In the bleak landscape of dystopian cinema, Mercy emerges as a film that tantalises with a high-concept premise only to squander it in a sea of narrative confusion and missed opportunities. Directed by Timur Bekmambetov and starring Chris Pratt and Rebecca Ferguson, this 2026 release plunges viewers into a near-future Los Angeles where justice is meted out by an artificial intelligence, but the execution leaves much to be desired.
A Chilling Premise Wasted
The film opens with a voiceover that is menacingly chipper, setting the tone for a world where crime is rampant, and civil unrest has led to the creation of the Mercy court. Here, AI Judge Maddox, portrayed by the sublimely charming Rebecca Ferguson, presides over cases with unfettered access to personal data. The accused are strapped to a chair, assumed guilty from the outset, and given a mere 90 minutes to prove their innocence using digital evidence—or face immediate termination.
This setup conjures a horrifying scenario: what if an algorithm, scraping information from the digital world, held the power over life and death? Mercy initially ponders this ethical quandary, but any depth is quickly lost as the plot meanders through dead ends.
Chris Pratt's Underwhelming Role
Chris Pratt plays Chris Raven, a cop who finds himself on the wrong side of the Mercy court after arresting its first defendant. Awakening in the chair with no memory of the day, accused of murdering his wife, he must command Judge Maddox to pull up phone records, Instagram accounts, and emails in a desperate bid for innocence.
However, Pratt's performance feels interchangeable with any other Hollywood Chris, and the film's efforts to immerse viewers—through flashy screens and 3D effects—fall flat. The camera frequently cuts to his pained expressions, undermining the "screenlife" gimmick that Bekmambetov popularised with films like Unfriended and Searching.
Narrative Dead Ends and Missed Opportunities
Any promising idea in Mercy leads to a frustrating dead end. The film hints at exploring themes such as the true meaning of justice, privacy violations, and the ethics of AI sentience, but none are adequately addressed. For instance, when Chris's daughter confronts him about snooping on her phone, he acknowledges it's wrong but continues the behaviour, a subplot that goes nowhere.
Similarly, Judge Maddox's slow gain of sentience is either ignored or misunderstood by Marco van Belle's script, leaving Ferguson's skilfully artificial performance without meaningful context. After a series of pointless twists, the film concludes with a baffling message: "human or AI, we all make mistakes and we learn," a weak resolution for a story centred on capital punishment.
A Dismal Dystopian Vision
Mercy borrows heavily from classics like Minority Report and Blade Runner, presenting a world of segregated red zones and police brutality as an agreeable norm. Yet, it fails to critique or innovate upon these tropes, instead suggesting that such a dystopia would be fine with minor improvements. This lack of critical engagement renders the film a maddening watch, devoid of the intellectual heft its premise promises.
With a runtime of 100 minutes and a 12A certificate, Mercy is in cinemas from 23 January, but it struggles to rise above its dismal execution. For fans of sci-fi and dystopian tales, this film serves as a cautionary example of how a compelling idea can be lost in poor storytelling.
