The next installment in the "Chris Rock makes the same movie over and over again" series, "Head of State," hits theaters today. The movie takes its cue from Rock's box office bomb, "Down to Earth," but since no one saw that, "Head of State" is most similar to a long line of Eddie Murphy films, most notably, "The Distinguished Gentleman."
In "Head of State," Rock is paired with fellow comedy giant Bernie Mac. Rock plays Mays Gilliam, a down-on-his-luck, Washington, D.C., alderman. When the Democratic presidential candidate for 2004 unexpectedly dies, Gilliam is chosen as his unexpected replacement to improve the party's image with minorities.
Predictably, Gilliam is surrounded by a group of uptight advisors, and showcased around uptight white people at fundraisers, where his urban sensibilities cause some hilarious hijinx. Imagine 100 rich, white senior citizens rapping, while dancing the electric slide.
As the election drags on with no results, the politically na??ve Gilliam decides to stop listening to his advisors and, much like Warren Beatty in "Bulworth," to start "telling it like it is." He converts his campaign bus into a Cash Money Millionaires' album cover on wheels, and starts addressing real issues, while telling his Republican competitor, Randall Lewis (Nick Searcy), that he is "full of s---." All of this comes with the help of his brother and running mate, Mitch (Bernie Mac).
All of the fish-out-of-water jokes, the stereotypical evil Republican competition and Gilliam's campaign advisors' unseemly motivations, combine to form a movie written with a mathematical marketing formula.
The obligatory romantic subplot doesn't even make sense. Gilliam falls for Lisa (Tamala Jones), a gas station attendant; a dance, a scenic walk through Washington and voila, they're in love. During these moments, viewers will contemplate the valuable time taken away from Mac.
Despite these minor setbacks, "Head of State" is worth seeing. Unlike his previous journey into the realm of the black-guy-meets-uptight-white-people film ("Down To Earth"), Rock doesn't reuse old comedy material. Another of the film's surprises is that Rock co-wrote and directed it.
But one major disappointment in "Head of State" is that Mac's role in the film is only slightly larger than his role as Frank in "Ocean's 11." For the first half of the film, Mac appears in one scene. Arguably, he co-stars in the second half, but he still doesn't have nearly as much screen time as Rock.
However, when Mac appears, his presence is absolutely hysterical. His news interviews elicit the film's funniest bits. He definitely steals the movie from Rock, which is saying a lot considering that Rock himself is a phenomenal talent.
"Head of State" isn't spectacular. It's not going to change your life, and it certainly isn't realistic. But Mac and Rock sharing one screen is reason enough to see it. Even some of the predictable gags create humorous moments, including a scene depicting literally thousands of white people running (and scooter-riding) out of their suburban homes to the polls after the news announces that America's first black president is about to be elected.
There aren't too many surprises, but everything that happened in Method Man and Redman's "How High" was also completely predictable - and that movie is a masterpiece.
"Head of State" might not be a masterpiece, but compared to other films currently in release, viewers will still get their money's worth.


