"The Electric State" could have been a blast—if it didn’t zap itself with a horrible twist

Netflix’s latest sci-fi venture, The Electric State, directed by Joe and Anthony Russo, hit the streaming platform on Friday (March 14) with a hefty $320 million price tag and a cast stacked with stars like Millie Bobby Brown and Chris Pratt.

Set in an alternate ‘90s where humans and robots are at odds, the film follows Michelle (Brown) on a quest to find her brother Christopher, aided by a smuggler (Pratt) and a quirky robot sidekick.

I went in expecting a fun, retro-futuristic romp—think Back to the Future meets Transformers with a dash of Russo flair. And for a while, it delivers: the visuals pop, the robots are a nostalgic treat, and there’s a breezy adventure vibe that could’ve made this a guilty pleasure. But then the ending pulls the plug on all that potential, leaving a sour taste with a pro-euthanasia message that feels like an unwelcome woke misfire in an otherwise escapist flick.

The setup is pure popcorn fodder: sentient robots, once humanity’s cartoonish helpers, are now exiles after a failed uprising. Michelle teams up with Pratt’s Keats and a wise-cracking bot (voiced by Anthony Mackie) to trek across a dystopian American Southwest.

The world-building is quirky—giant robots litter the landscape like abandoned toys, and there’s a playful absurdity to it all. Early on, I was hooked by the promise of a lighthearted sci-fi romp. The special effects dazzle, especially in scenes like the robots gathering to watch a banned cartoon, a moment critics like Anna McKibbin from The A.V. Club noted as touching. Even John Nugent from Empire, one of the few kinder voices, called it “breezily watchable” with “just enough juice.” Brown brings some grit to Michelle, and Pratt’s discount-Harrison-Ford shtick lands a few chuckles. It’s not groundbreaking, but it could’ve been a solid Friday-night watch.

Then comes the finale, and it’s like the Russos swapped out the popcorn for a soapbox. Michelle finds Christopher hooked up to a machine—a pod that looks straight out of a euthanasia clinic—powering tech that’s wrecking the world. She shuts it off to save him and everyone else, but the film frames it less as a heroic sacrifice and more as a mercy killing. The machine keeping him alive, sleek and clinical, screams “euthanasia pod,” and the emotional beats push a vibe that’s uncomfortably pro-ending-life rather than pro-saving-the-day.

Critics like Matt Goldberg from The Wrap already slammed the sibling bond as “vacant,” and this twist makes it worse—why root for a connection that ends in a glorified unplugging? It’s a jarring pivot from the film’s earlier silliness, draining the fun like a robot short-circuiting in the rain.

Without that ending, The Electric State could’ve been a flawed but enjoyable ride. The action’s repetitive, sure—David Rooney from The Hollywood Reporter called it “thankless work”—but the retro aesthetic and oddball robot crew (hello, Woody Harrelson’s Mr. Peanut!) had charm. It’s not the MCU-level wit of the Russos’ Captain America days, but it didn’t need to be.

Instead, they bogged it down with a heavy-handed message that clashes with the tone. Imagine if Jurassic Park ended with a lecture on letting dinosaurs die out—it’d suck the joy right out. Here, the euthanasia undertone feels like a cheap shock, not a clever subversion, and it turns a would-be romp into a slog.

Critics are right to pile on—this isn’t the Russos’ finest hour. But strip away that ending, and you’ve got a decent flick that knows how to play with nostalgia and spectacle. Too bad it zapped itself with a twist that’s less thought-provoking than preachy. Next time, guys, just let the robots dance and leave the life-support debates to the documentaries (or just leave them out altogether.)

Variety contributed to this article.