We go to the movies to escape, to momentarily leave our own lives behind. But a curious trend is emerging – films that trap us *within* the screens we’re trying to disconnect from. It’s a subgenre called “screenlife,” and it’s quietly taking hold.
Early examples like the unsettling horror of “Unfriended” and the gripping thriller “Searching” pioneered this format, presenting entire narratives through computer and phone displays. More recently, films like “Missing” and even a segment of “Modern Family” have experimented with the style. A single name appears consistently behind these projects: Timur Bekmambetov.
Bekmambetov, a filmmaker known for visually dynamic action films, now delivers “Mercy,” a high-stakes thriller set in a near-future Los Angeles overwhelmed by crime. The city’s solution? The Mercy system – an AI judge and jury rolled into one, promising swift and impartial justice.
Detective Chris Raven, played by Chris Pratt, finds himself accused of his wife’s murder. But instead of a traditional trial, he’s strapped into the Mercy chair, facing judgment from Maddox, an AI embodied by Rebecca Ferguson. His fate hinges on a single, terrifying metric: a guilt rating.
Maddox initially assesses Raven’s guilt at 97.5%. He has 90 minutes to lower that percentage to 92%, enough to introduce reasonable doubt and secure his freedom. The stakes are absolute – failure means immediate execution. His only tools are access to the city’s vast digital network and the ability to make desperate phone calls.
The film unfolds almost entirely with Pratt confined to the chair, arguing his case to the dispassionate digital presence of Ferguson’s AI. It’s a claustrophobic, high-pressure scenario reminiscent of “12 Angry Men,” but with an unyielding, algorithmic opponent. The system, Raven is warned, “does not make mistakes.”
While the premise of an AI judge is timely and thought-provoking, “Mercy” feels strangely limited by its chosen format. The screenlife aesthetic demands more telling than showing, resulting in dialogue that often feels artificial and explanatory. It’s a curious choice, given how much of our lives are *already* spent staring at screens.
Bekmambetov’s previous work thrived on visual spectacle, but “Mercy” operates within self-imposed boundaries. This approach likely stems from budgetary considerations; a film starring Chris Pratt can be made for a fraction of the cost of his blockbuster franchises like “Guardians of the Galaxy.”
Pratt and Ferguson deliver capable performances, but their talents are somewhat constrained by the script. Despite a compelling concept, “Mercy” ultimately feels like a forgettable entry in the January movie landscape, unable to fully capitalize on its star power or its intriguing premise.
“Mercy” is rated PG-13 and runs for 1 hour and 40 minutes. It is currently playing in theaters.
