Editor’s Note: This article contains spoilers for “Mercy.”
Timur Bekmambetov’s “Mercy” arrived at a time when anxiety about the future of artificial intelligence (AI) is at an all time high with its release on Jan. 23.
The thriller film is set in a dystopian Los Angeles in 2029 and centers on detective Chris Raven (Chris Pratt), who is on trial. His case is heard by an advanced AI judge, Judge Maddox (Rebecca Ferguson), who acts as judge, jury and executionary. Raven is accused of the murder of his wife and the evidence is damning. While the suspense is undeniable as both the defendant and audience watch the clock,“Mercy” ultimately struggles to clarify its message. It juggles too many ideas at once — wavering between a critique of AI, policing and justice without committing strongly enough to any of these concepts.
Overridden with crime, the justice system is outsourced to an AI program called Mercy Court, run by Maddox. Defendants are presumed guilty until proven innocent and have 90 minutes to advocate for themselves and lower the AI’s probability of guilt.
The film opens with the disturbing image of the biggest supporter of the system, Raven, strapped to a chair inside the courtroom with no human to hear his pleas. However, he has access to AI’s full capabilities and is able to use the city’s digital surveillance, phone data, witness testimony and crime scene files to prove his innocence and find the real killer.
As the movie progresses, Raven sits in the same place as those whose executions he celebrated, encounters truths that blur the line between truth and corruption, and begins to question the system. However, the film never fully commits to giving an answer to these questions.
While “Mercy” starts off exploring the dangers of replacing humans with AI in a courtroom, it later pivots to corruption faced within law enforcement. However, it doesn’t fully commit to either stance, making it a weak cautionary tale. The resulting message is middling as it instead leans towards broader, fable-like themes about judging a book by its cover and the consequence of sacrificing people for the greater good. In an attempt to balance a critique of police, technology and morality, the film ultimately lacks conviction.
“Mercy” also suffers from underdeveloped potential, particularly in its worldbuilding. There is a brief explanation of Los Angeles’ division into different zones but this system is never fully fleshed out. How these districts fit into the backstory of Mercy Court or how it intersects with controversial policing is never meaningfully explored.
AI’s broader consequences are also left underdeveloped. An interesting route to go down would have been how AI reinforces biases and dehumanizes subjects, such as the first person it executed: a homeless man accused of murdering a woman. While the homeless man’s case is touched on a bit, “Mercy” rarely lingers enough to let its implications land. Much of the film’s worldbuilding relies on the audience’s imagination of what might happen after the camera cuts.
Despite these shortcomings, “Mercy” is still an entertaining film. The ticking clock structure sustains tension throughout its runtime and there are several twists and turns that make it a fun watch. Movies don’t have to have deep commentary to be good, but it seems like “Mercy” wanted to offer something truly impactful but missed the mark. The biggest lesson “Mercy” teaches is that if you try to say too much, you end up saying nothing at all.
Ayiana Grana is an Arts and Entertainment Intern for the winter 2026 quarter. She can be reached at angrana@uci.edu
Edited by Annabelle Aguirre
Interested in becoming an intern or a contributing writer for the Entertainment section?
Contact us at entertainment@newuniversity.org!
