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Chris Rock gives us just 15 minutes of funny in the clumsy Head of State. That's enough for a comedy routine, but not for a movie.
By STEVE PERSALL, Times Film Critic
© St. Petersburg Times, published March 27, 2003
The first rule of artistic inspiration is: Use what you know. Chris Rock knows stand-up comedy, perhaps better than anyone working today who isn't named Cosby or Seinfeld. That doesn't mean he can direct a movie.
Rock's debut in that capacity, a fitful comedy blandly titled Head of State, plays like one of his stand-up routines. That format operates on ideas but, in movies, ideas must be developed into premises linked together with smoother segues and stricter continuity than comedy clubs require. Head of State would make a terrific 15-minute set. It's the other 75 minutes of clumsy cinematic bridges between the gags making it disappointing.
Rock also co-wrote the film and stars as Mays Gilliam, a Washington, D.C., alderman recruited as a presidential candidate when one party's ticket gets killed in a plane collision. A party leader (James Rebhorn) who'll run in 2008 expects him to lose.
Before you can say Bulworth, Mays' straight talk narrows the pollster gap between him and a vaguely Republican incumbent vice president (Nick Searcy) whose campaign slogan is: "God bless America, and no one else." That's the sharpest political satire available in Head of State. The rest is all passive-aggressive culture conflict, as Mays and his running mate brother (Bernie Mac) do everything against the rules except lose votes.
Some funny material pops into the predictable plot rhythms, usually provoking a mental image of how Rock would convey the same joke with vocal infections and body language in a stand-up routine. It's amusing that Mays' first thought about why he's chosen to run is that he'll be assassinated, a fast sight gag for the character to imagine. On stage, Rock would milk it for all it's worth, bobbing and weaving, ducking imaginary bullets until the laughter stops.
The same goes for a sequence at a fundraiser when Mays plays DJ for white muckety-mucks miraculously getting their grooves on. Rock is versatile enough to play all the parts on stage. As a director he simply sets up, points and shoots with much less comedic effectiveness. He isn't concerned with character arcs; some people change their allegiances between scenes, just to be positioned for the next joke, wherever it may wind up.
Rock's personality is always welcome on screen, and Mac proves in a too-short role that he's a commanding presence waiting to be utilized properly. Other actors are just straight men and women: Robin Givens as Mays' opportunistic ex-girlfriend, Tamala Jones as his new one, Dylan Baker as the token uptight white campaign manager and Lynn Whitfield as his doubting colleague. Viewers don't learn anything about them other than what Rock wants to poke fun about. Rock, the director, still has much to learn about making fun movies.
Grade: C
Director: Chris Rock
Cast: Chris Rock, Bernie Mac, Lynne Whitfield, Dylan Baker, Nick Searcy, Tamala Jones, Robin Givens, Tracy Morgan
Screenplay: Chris Rock, Ali LeRoy
Rating: PG-13; profanity, brief sexuality, drug references
Running time: 93 min.