‘The Electric State’ review: Wasted money and potential

A weak screenplay and forgettable performances present The Electric State as the poster child for Netflix’s algorithm driven film making.

The Electric State has so many things going for it—an intriguing sci-fi premise, charismatic actors, and interesting production design. Yet, somehow, the film manages to squander it all. The lackluster screenplay has a paint-by-numbers plot and is so full of cliches that it feels like Netflix’s infamous algorithm gained sentience just long enough to write it.

The Russo Brothers and longtime collaborators Christopher Markus and Stephen McFeely continue to prove that perhaps they weren’t the special sauce behind their MCU hits. Millie Bobby Brown, Chris Pratt, and the rest of the cast fail to imbue the paper thin characters with any kind of life. The two hour run time is the final nail in the coffin of a film that somehow accounts for a 320 million budget.

Wasted potential.

The Electric State introduces a a version of earth where robot technology developed rapidly and resulted in sentient robots leading a civil rights campaign and eventually to a human-robot war. That’s an interesting premise that is presented in the most uninteresting way possible. Holly Hunter narrates this history over a montage presented as an in universe news report or documentary. The academy award winning actress proceeds to disappear for the rest of the film. She makes another extremely minor appearance to provide a neat wrap up summary report near the end of the film.

This trend of presenting potentially interesting ideas and absolutely refusing to engage with them continues for the entirety of The Electric State. Humanity wins the war using drone-like robotic avatars that allow them to separate their consciousness to essentially be in two places at once. One part of their mind can be in a virtual world experiencing whatever reality it wants while the other part deals with the drudgery of the real world via the drones. In ten minutes The Electric State manages to mash together Severance, Wall-E, Westworld, and more before punting it all away to focus on a very basic story of a girl looking for her brother.

Copy and paste.

A simple story in a complex world can work in a good film. But the narrative in The Electric State overwhelms itself with cliche that there’s nothing to dig into. Brown and Pratt play reheated versions of characters they’ve played before only this time they’re in terrible wigs. Stanley Tucci’s villain has zero complexity and has about three lines of dialogue to deliver a feeble attempt at a backstory. Giancarlo Esposito’s antagonist is a glorified roomba with his face on it whose motivations vacillate wildly so that he can advance the plot. There is nothing in the story that comes close to an actual character arc. The themes fail to move beyond milquetoast platitudes about “overcoming differences” and “coming together.”

Some of the 320 million dollar budget is tangible on screen. The robots move and interact with the world in a way that feels plausible and there are some genuinely fun ideas for how these boots were designed to meet specific functions. Pratt’s robot sidekick Herman, voiced by Anthony Mackie, has a nesting doll design that would have sent me straight to my parents to beg for a toy when I was eight years old. In a better film he could have easily been a breakout character but instead ends up being a barely visible bright spot.

The bottom line.

Screenwriters have cited that they are receiving notes from Netflix to write dialogue that explains what is happening on screen for viewers who have Netflix playing in the background. The Electric State is the consequence of these types of film making principles. A cliff notes version of a story expanded back out without any of the details added back in. A copy of a copy of a copy that embodies the accusations levied at the robots in the opening of the film: soulless and disposable.

The Electric State is now streaming on Netflix. Watch the trailer here.

Images courtesy of Cr. Paul Abell/Netflix ©2025

Jose Cordova

Jose Cordova is based in the San Francisco Bay Area. A lifelong appreciator of film, television, and video games, he can usually be found sitting on his couch desperately trying to make a dent in his watchlist.