Mercy (Christian Movie Review)

Mercy is not a great, nor even particularly good, film, but it is enjoyable with a creative storytelling approach and enough narrative intrigue to keep audiences engaged for its brisk runtime.

About the Film 

Mercy imagines a near-future reality where AI is used as the sole judge, jury, and executioner of heinous crimes. In the “Mercy Court”, the accused are presumed guilty and have 1.5 hours (conveniently the length needed for the movie’s runtime!) to use the near-omnipotent AI capacities of the court to prove their innocence. The film itself has a similarly daunting task to prove its merit, as audiences may assume that it is merely a derivative film (reminiscent of Steven Spielberg’s Minority Report, etc.) that was unceremoniously dumped into the notoriously bleak January movie season for a reason. Is it guilty as charged or will it manage to win over skeptical audiences? The answer is, yes!  

The response to the film, positive or negative, will depend on expectations. Mercy feels like it is better suited (and more likely to be positively and uncritically received) as a straight-to-streaming movie. That it was produced by Amazon MGM studios makes its theatrical release even more surprising. With these modest expectations, I enjoyed this film more than I expected to. Is it a great film? Certainly not. Is it even a good film? Debatable, and arguably less so the longer you think about it. But it is an enjoyable film, with enough creative storytelling ideas and narrative intrigue that it kept me interested for the duration of its relatively brisk runtime. It’s a film that will almost inevitably be panned by critics only to become a breakout hit on streaming platforms several months from now.    

The defining (and likely divisive) selling point of Mercy is its unique storytelling approach. The film’s gimmick is that Chris Pratt, playing a man accused of murdering his wife, spends 95% of the film strapped in a chair, and with the assistance of an AI judge (Rebecca Ferguson), he must prove his innocence in a trial that unfolds in real time. At times, watching Chris Pratt read a series of on-screen text messages has all the thrills of, well, watching somebody read a series of text messages, but the film also manages to find ways to effectively utilize its concept. For as much as the marketing materials made it appear like “Minority Report lite,” the found-footage element allows Mercy to feel more original. It’s certainly not the first film to use this unconventional approach, but it may be among the highest profile, and arguably among the best.     

How you feel about that central gimmick will make or break the film, because there isn’t much else to sink your teeth into. Chris Pratt and Rebecca Ferguson are A-list performers but struggle to transcend the limitations of the rolls. Against-type, Pratt plays a dour, deadbeat alcoholic (and does anyone really want to see a dour, deadbeat Chris Pratt?). Meanwhile, Ferguson spends most of her screen time giving menacing glares as a floating head avatar of an emotionless AI. Both do about as well as they could, given the limitations, but audiences shouldn’t expect to find much emotional stakes or character growth.   

Found footage films always require a hefty suspension of disbelief. The harder you think about the plot specifics of Mercy the messier and more nonsensical it becomes. Conveniences and plot holes abound, as well as several moments that seem to directly contradict elements established only several scenes earlier. Again, expectations matter. If you go in looking to evaluate and judge the plausibility of the story, then you certainly will find plenty to make you shake your head. If you shut your brain off and simply go along for the ride, ignoring how incoherent that ride can be, then you will find more enjoyment and less frustration.  

Cinema is often reactionary and, unsurprisingly, there have recently been a parade of AI-centric films. Mercy touches on several hot button debates about AI’s potential for human flourishing or human destruction, as well as themes of justice and government (see themes section below), but it doesn’t have much to contribute to these conversations. That’s fine since I don’t necessarily need a sci-fi film in January to deeply challenge my philosophical beliefs on crucial existential questions. Still, the lack of thematic depth does leave Mercy feeling like a bowl of stale, plain potato chips, lacking the flavor to justify the consumption of such empty calories.  

In the end, Mercy is exactly the type of movie you expect it to be, for better or worse. It’s a creative film, but not always a clever one. It occasionally bumps up against its full potential as gripping and innovative but ultimately falls short of that standard, landing firmly in the territory as a neat, ultimately forgettable idea that could have been better. Even so, like that aforementioned bowl of potato chips, sometimes we eat for nutrition and sustenance, and other times we are simply bored and want something to munch on. I liked Mercy, but perhaps I was just in the mood to munch.   

Is AI our Friend or Enemy?

The impact of AI is arguably the number one hot button issue of our time. Many recent movies sought to explore the theme, with the prevailing conclusion being that AI is not our friend. Mercy is not necessarily an enthusiastic embrace of AI, but it is not a complete disregard either. The concept of the AI-run “Mercy Court” is framed with appropriate horror and criticism, and the countless menacing glares from Rebecca Ferguson’s avatar are clearly designed to hammer home the dehumanization of AI. At the same time, whereas many AI-centric films take the form of dire, dystopian warning, Mercy is much more measured.   

In one scene, Pratt’s character challenges the AI that she (to paraphrase) “sees the world in black and white of right and wrong, but humans know that the truth always rests in the mushy gray area between those two.” Setting aside the possible biblical and theological issues in the declaration, in context, the intention is not to deny the absence of absolute truth or morality, but only to affirm that the emotional capacity of humans transcends a binary, algorithm assessment.  The same emotional capacity that can lead to a violent crime of passion can also lead to an intuitive “hunch” that discovers the truth that a cold and detached inhuman AI cannot comprehend.

The film ends with a character stating that they are all “doing what we’re programmed for. Human… AI….We all make mistakes and lie.” The implication is that both humans and AI have the capacity for good and evil, for discovering truth and making critical mistakes. In that way, Mercy doesn’t take a firm stance on the issue of AI beyond acknowledging the messiness of the issue. It suggests that the real problem is not AI, but a lack of moderation and an overreliance on such technologies. AI can be a helpful tool, as long as we do not lose sight of our God-created humanity.