Warning: This post contains spoilers for “Mercy.”
Hollywood has always had a penchant for taking the phrase “art imitates life” to heart, especially when it comes to American politics. We’ve seen it in abundance in recent years with President Donald Trump, and even more so during his second controversial term in office, which has cracked down on immigration, crime and policing in this country.
That’s all I could think about while watching “Mercy,” the new sci-fi thriller starring Chris Pratt, as my worries around the future of justice in America played out onscreen.
Set in 2029, the film centers on an intense trial in which Los Angeles detective Chris Raven (Pratt) is accused of killing his estranged wife (Annabelle Wallis). With just 90 minutes to clear his name, Raven must defend himself before an AI-run court system he once hailed as “the future of criminal justice” (so the movie’s tagline purports) — only now it’s playing judge, jury and executioner with his life.
The majority of the movie is spent with a hungover Raven strapped to a chair, conducting his own remote murder investigation before a poker-faced AI judge (played by Rebecca Ferguson). As the prime suspect, he’s offered an arsenal of resources — including doorbell and body cams, social media accounts, public surveillance cameras, a phone line capable of reaching any person he requests to speak with and more digital tools that are alarmingly too accessible — to argue his case and prove, beyond the 92% threshold of reasonable doubt, that he didn’t commit the crime.
If not, he’s to be automatically executed in a court of law (because, in this film, that’s a totally legal precedent).
The film unfolds through a series of twists and turns, culminating in a reveal that Raven’s AA sponsor — and his wife’s co-worker — Rob (Chris Sullivan) orchestrated her murder as an act of revenge against the detective. As the film hints early on, Rob’s brother was the first defendant Raven brought before the AI court, and he was executed for a crime he didn’t commit. The truth goes even deeper from there — as it turns out, Raven’s partner, Jaq (Kali Reis), suppressed the evidence that would have cleared him.
Another classic case of human corruption. However, “Mercy” shows the lengths some individuals will go to in order to legitimize an AI-driven justice system that presumes guilt first and strips away due process.
“Mercy” marks another screenlife entry from filmmaker Timur Bekmambetov, the same producer behind genre titles like “Unfriended,” “Searching,” “Profile,” “Missing” and last year’s “War of the Worlds.” This latest film, however, pushes the format a bit further, using its highly technical framework to depict a chilling vision of constant citizen surveillance and the erosion of digital privacy.
Whether that was the movie’s intentions or not, it raises valid anxieties around AI being used within already-flawed systems of power, particularly as it relates to overpolicing. Those concerns resonate strongly today, especially as Trump’s authorization of federal troop deployments continues to affect American cities.
Take, for instance, the opening sequence of “Mercy,” which shows law enforcement storming the streets of L.A., claiming that mass unemployment and homelessness drove the city into a “crime epidemic.” According to the film, red zones designed to restrict individuals suspected of violent activities failed, prompting more “extreme measures,” i.e., the creation of the Mercy Court.
The idea is that a high-tech court would reduce the need for lengthy trials by delegating all authority to an AI judge, which, in their view, makes sense for public safety.
What the film’s viewpoint overlooks, though, is that placing too much faith in any one institution, especially one tasked with delivering so-called justice, inevitably leaves room for error. An AI system, for instance, can’t account for a corrupt officer suppressing evidence that might prove someone’s innocence, paving the way for wrongful convictions. This kind of misconduct has long fallen hardest on communities of color, especially Black communities — just look at cases like the Exonerated Five or the Harlem Park Three. Handing even more authority to algorithmic decision-makers only raises the question of how much greater that harm could become.
That query lingered with me throughout “Mercy.” If the film’s cop protagonist — now framed as a “victim” of the very system he once championed — can find himself trapped in a labyrinth where AI determines his fate, what protection could everyday civilians (some of whom are already unjustly targeted and discriminated against) possibly expect?
In an interview with Cinema Scholars, director Bekmambetov suggested AI is something one could train to understand them and, by extension, anticipate one’s needs.
“Because the more you work with a partner, the more and more that partner understands you,” he said.
That doesn’t imply AI can achieve perfect comprehension, though. And that limitation is precisely what makes its involvement in criminal justice affairs so worrisome. Hence, it seems up to humans to remain vigilant, question the decisions of artificial intelligence and ensure that moral judgment isn’t abused by technology in criminal justice affairs.
“I hope that people do question AI, and humans’ relationship to AI,” Ferguson noted in the film’s production notes. “Artificial Intelligence is a fantastic tool, but it should always be just that — a tool to aid humans, not an alternative to humans. This film highlights, in a narrative sense, some of the ways that relying on AI could go very wrong.”
Though a work of fiction, “Mercy” offers an onscreen vision that feels all too plausible. While the film suggests that an inevitable AI takeover should encourage us to consider responsible uses for the technology, I’d argue there’s no morally defensible way for algorithms to make decisions about human lives and conditions.
With films like “Mercy,” the takeaway shouldn’t be total optimism about AI’s future capabilities, but a cautionary reminder of the dangers of handing technology too much control over already flawed aspects of our lives.
It’s bad enough that we’re still grappling with defects in our current justice system — one that, these days, seems quicker to target journalists doing their jobs than to hold federal agents accountable for gunning down citizens in the streets.
We don’t need AI to fast-track more corruption.
“Mercy” is now playing in theaters.
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