In the world of AI that we live in, it’s becoming increasingly unsettling to realize how much control we are already handing over. Jobs are disappearing – writers, lawyers, doctors – any work that can be avoided by humans and performed by a machine eventually will be. Convenience is winning. Speed is winning. And we barely stop to ask what we’re giving up in return. But what happens when that same AI no longer works for us, but begins to decide for us?

What if one day it isn’t just assisting the legal system, but becomes the judge – deciding what we can or cannot do, who is guilty and who is not? What if the very humans who built what they believed to be the most intelligent machine mind in the world are the first ones placed under its authority? And what if the machine you created doesn’t fail…
but decides you are the problem? This is why the screenplay by Marco van Belle tries to expand on it further.

Set in the year 2029, an LAPD detective Christopher Raven (Chris Pratt) suddenly finds himself accused of murdering his wife. He has just 90 minutes to clear his name before an AI-driven justice system, or an AI judge (Rebecca Fergusson) –  cold, mechanical, and absolute – delivers its verdict. A verdict that doesn’t mean prison. It means death. This is the very system he once supported. The same technology he openly promoted, believing it would reduce crime and bring efficiency to Los Angeles. Now, his life, his future, and his fate rest in the hands of a senseless, emotionless, heartless intelligence — one that doesn’t think like a human, doesn’t feel like a human, and doesn’t react like one.

All it does is observe. Measure his demeanor. Calculate probabilities. If the algorithm determines there is more than a 90% chance of guilt, the outcome is final. So the question isn’t just whether he can prove his innocence. It’s whether he can uncover who really killed his wife – or whether the truth is far more disturbing. Maybe it was him. Maybe the system knows something he doesn’t. Either way, there is no jury. No mercy. Just one man… and the machine he must now fight to survive.

Without giving too much away, the core purpose of Mercy is not the mystery itself, but what it reveals about the power we are willing to hand over to artificial intelligence. The film exists to test the limits of how much access AI can be given – and whether efficiency is worth the cost. There are clear advantages. AI is fast. It is precise. It can process vast amounts of information without fatigue, bias, or limitation. In theory, it should make better decisions than humans ever could.

But what it lacks is just as important. AI has no sense of human impact. No intuition. No fear of being wrong. It doesn’t feel doubt, remorse, or hesitation. It doesn’t understand that facts can be incomplete, manipulated, or intentionally altered. And if the information fed into the system is flawed, how can the outcome possibly be just? AI can only judge what it is shown. In Mercy, the LAPD officer knows this – and he knows that time is not on his side. With only 90 minutes to prove his innocence, the system isn’t looking for truth. It’s looking for probability. And that is where the beauty and the danger of artificial intelligence collide.

Rebecca Ferguson is quietly remarkable in Mercy, delivering a performance that exists in a difficult space – playing both a judge and an artificial intelligence at the same time. As a human presence embodying a machine, she is required to suppress emotion almost entirely, yet subtle nuances still emerge. That tension makes her performance one of the film’s most intriguing elements.

To conclude, Timur Bekmambetov`s Mercy is an interesting and timely film. It suggests that when humans and AI work together, meaningful results can be achieved – but it also asks whether we are truly ready for that balance. Maybe we are. Maybe we aren’t. The film doesn’t pretend to have a clear answer. What Mercy presents may feel dystopian, but history has shown us something unsettling: many of the ideas once considered science fiction have slowly become reality. What we once watched on screen as distant futures is now unfolding in real time. Artificial intelligence is already taking over jobs. Automation is accelerating. And the idea of AI-driven judgment no longer feels impossible.

Worth to note though, the film is careful not to demonize AI. In fact, it acknowledges its power – its efficiency, its potential, its ability to help humanity achieve incredible things. But when it comes to decisions where a human life is at stake, Mercy raises an uncomfortable question: should that responsibility ever be removed from human hands? Because if humans can be corrupt, then the systems they build can be corrupted as well. So where does that leave us? Mercy doesn’t answer that question – but it doesn’t need to. It succeeds by making us think about it. Because the future is already here. The only real question left is: are we ready for it?