Mercy (2026)

Sometimes even the most ardent cinephiles need to take a break from serious movie watching with a big, dopey action-adventure thriller that has about as much meaningful substance as a supersized bucket of over-buttered popcorn has in nutritional value. And that hankering is nicely satisfied here by the latest release from director Timur Bekmambetov, a guilty pleasure offering that plays like an AI-driven knock-off of “Minority Report” (2002) set in a crime-ridden version of Los Angeles of the near future. To counter a spike in acts of violence, the City of Angels has established a new judicial system known as the Mercy Court, a legal forum in which artificial intelligence jurists conduct proceedings based on the principle of swift justice, playing the often-maligned (but, here, warmly welcomed) combined roles of judge, jury and executioner. Defendants have 90 minutes to overcome the de facto presumption of their guilt (a reversal of the time-honored precept of innocent until proven guilty), a failure at which can readily result in the immediate administration of a death sentence. During their trials, defendants have unfettered access to a wealth of computer-based legal resources and wide-ranging surveillance records to prove their innocence, but judges take a hard-line “just the facts” approach to their analyses and rulings, leaving little room for legal latitude. And, with the clock ticking, any attempts at making one’s case must, of necessity, proceed quickly. In this story, the veracity of the system gets put to the test in a big way when Det. Chris Raven (Chris Pratt), a strong proponent who pushed for the adoption of the Mercy Court, is tried for the grisly murder of his wife, Nicole (Annabelle Wallis), a crime that he insists he didn’t commit but that he also can’t remember. The presiding jurist in his case, Judge Maddox (Rebecca Ferguson), perfunctorily carries out her duties in line with the rigid limitations of her programming, an approach that leaves the often-frustrated officer grasping at straws to prove his innocence as his time quickly runs out. The result is the unfolding of a complicated scenario peppered with blind alleys, misdirections and surprise revelations, some of which admittedly may seem wholly implausible and suitably over the top. But, then, this is also the kind of thriller that inherently calls on viewers to suspend logic as the wild and woolly plot plays out, one that features its share of rapid-fire action and some of the best vehicular chase scenes since “Speed” (1994). Granted, “Mercy” is far from groundbreaking cinema, and one shouldn’t expect that upon entering the theater. Nevertheless, it’s a fun, mindless midwinter thrill ride that throws in another cautionary tale about the perils of questionable technology and an out-of-control police state to provide a dash of contemporary relevance. In any event, when it comes to this one, set your sights low and don’t take it too seriously, but, by all means, have a good time and enjoy the ride.

When detective “Raven” (Chris Pratt) wakes up, he’s shocked to find himself strapped to a chair and somewhat hungover. All he has for company is the rather assertive image of “Judge Maddox” (Rebecca Ferguson) on a screen before him telling him that he has been arraigned on a charge of murdering his wife (Annabelle Wallis) and is now subject to the automated “Mercy” justice system. This involves AI evaluating multiple sources of information and working out the probability that he committed the crime. His rate is up around the 97% mark and so it is looking like he is toast. Of course he denies the crime, and so he is given ninety minutes to review all the evidence, footage and interviews and to carry out some questioning of his own to try to prove that he is innocent. What now ensues sees him backtrack over a weekend where we discover some home truths about this policeman and he discovers some about himself, his marriage and his best friend. I recently watched “Incident” (2023), a real-time documentary that illustrates just how much of our lives are truly being filmed and recorded. Add to that, this fictional but not entirely improbable society that legally obliges us all to sign up our devices and social media accounts to a cloud that leaves nothing private or beyond the reach of the authorities, and we have something of the Orwellian about this plot. That’s the premise, and for a while our captive Pratt and his electronic judge/jury and juicer make for quite a compelling critique on just where things might be going if we don’t stop relying on the internet for everything we do. Sadly, though, once the story is teed up for us, the batteries run out fairly quickly and this descends into a fairly formulaic drama that we’ve all seen loads of times before, before a denouement that hadn’t any of the courage of it’s earlier, much more menacing, convictions. It’s a perfectly watchable, wordy, television thriller, but I left the cinema feeling really quite underwhelmed.