The beauty of near-future dystopian sci-fi films is that we will always need them to point out parallels in our current society. The beauty of crime thrillers is that people will always want to watch them, edge of their seat, popcorn in hand. Combine the two? Strap in, double up the popcorn, and bring on the M&Ms, because these can be absolute classics…or, at worst, flawed but interesting cult favorites. Mercy, the latest example of this genre, comes in strong with a premise that had me hooked from the first trailer. In the year 2029, Detective Chris Raven (Chris Pratt) wakes up strapped to a chair inside the ultra-high-tech “Mercy” program, accused of murdering his wife, Nicole. He now has ninety minutes to convince an AI judge, Maddox (Rebecca Ferguson), of his innocence, or she will also serve as his executioner on the spot.
Raven has access to vast amounts of digital information via the cloud, along with his own years of experience as a detective. The film is directed by Timur Bekmambetov, known for Night Watch and Wanted, and it leans heavily into one of his signature techniques: the “Screenlife” format, in which the story unfolds almost entirely through computer screens. Here, that format works remarkably well. The computer footage becomes both Raven’s legal defense and a clever vehicle for flashbacks, without ever slowing the pace (the countdown timer continues to loom in the corner). Combined with the real-time dialogue between Raven and Maddox, it creates a brisk, tightly wound viewing experience. Found footage is a device I like in theory but often find clumsy in practice; Bekmambetov, however, uses it to maximum effect, keeping the film lean and propulsive.
Judged purely as an action-crime thriller, Mercy is a success. I don’t recall a moment where my attention drifted, and the rapid-fire clues are delivered clearly enough that the average viewer won’t feel lost. Pratt is serviceable as the flawed but relatable lead, and he manages to land a few genuinely effective emotional beats. Where the film falters is in its sci-fi ambition. Mercy centers on one of the most contested topics of the moment: the morality of AI and how much authority it should be given over human lives, yet it only dips a cautious toe into those waters. Ferguson is excellent as Maddox, balancing cold politeness, absolute certainty, and a faint uncanny-valley quality. But despite the concept’s potential, the film never commits to a meaningful stance.
I left the theater unsure what the movie ultimately believed: that AI is dangerous but necessary? flawed but efficient? Merely another neutral tool? It’s possible the writers themselves weren’t certain, or simply chose not to say. And while not every film needs to bludgeon its audience with a moral thesis, science fiction (even the pulpy kind) has traditionally been about more than spectacle. I don’t expect every sci-fi thriller to reach the philosophical heights of Blade Runner or even Minority Report. But I do expect to walk away with a new perspective, whether or not I agree with it. In the end, the most striking thing Mercy offers is its Screenlife presentation, not its ideas. It’s fast, entertaining, and nerve-wracking enough to make me wish I’d bought more snacks, but it ultimately fails to answer the very question it places at the center of its story.
