Chris Pratt stars as Chris Raven in 'Mercy.'Justin Lubin/Amazon MGM Studios.
Mercy
Directed by Timur Bekmambetov
Written by Marco van Belle
Starring Chris Pratt, Rebecca Ferguson and Kali Reis
Classification PG; 103 minutes
Opens in theatres Jan. 23
If I was holding out hope for Mercy, the sci-fi thriller starring Chris Pratt as a detective charged with murdering his wife, it’s because every so often, its director, Timur Bekmambetov, finds a conceptual gimmick that can be appealing. He’s the director who had Angelina Jolie curving bullets in 2008’s Wanted, and the producer who shepherded the savvy Skype-window horror franchise Unfriended to the screen, conjuring jump scares not from what’s lurking in the shadow, but instead from what’s buffering.
Unfriended contained all its action to chat windows and browser tabs on a single computer monitor, establishing the “screenlife” trend that would be deployed again in its sequel, alongside Searching and last year’s disastrous War of the Worlds adaptation (all produced by Bekmambetov).
Mercy takes that “screenlife” model, updates it for contemporary anxieties over AI and an extrajudicial police state, and left me hoping I never have to sit through anything like it again.
It’s not like the premise isn’t intriguing. It’s just that the result is the kind of soulless response you’d expect from AI, should it be prompted to make a “screenlife” version of Minority Report, with some elements from Speed.
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Set in 2029, Mercy imagines a new cost-cutting justice system powered by AI, where suspects are tried and executed within hours of committing a crime, saving resources spent on investigations, trials and housing prisoners. Like Tom Cruise’s beleaguered cop in Minority Report, Pratt’s Chris Raven is a staunch defender of the new system. That is until he finds himself on the stand, or rather in a chair, restrained, with 90 minutes to use the invasive modern tech at his disposal to sort through evidence and clear his name, or else be executed on the spot.
The AI comes personified in Judge Maddox, an avatar played by Rebecca Ferguson, whose winning personality just can’t be contained in a series of skeptical or curious glares, as she guides Raven, and us, through the proceedings. She makes a nifty foil to Pratt’s desperate Raven. Were that enough.
Pratt’s bewildered everyman appeal is usually pretty effective when he can draw on his dry humour. But here he’s just functional, because Mercy makes very little room for laughs, or personality – unlike say Unfriended, where we got so much from just watching its main character work through her music playlist.
Raven's partner, Detective Jaq, is played by Kali Reis from 'True Detective: Night Country.'Justin Lubin/Amazon MGM Studios.
Raven is a relapsed alcoholic, a character trait doubling as a cheat to keep him and us on even footing. He’s so hungover that he doesn’t remember where he was at the time of the crime he’s implicated in, the brutal stabbing of his wife, which appears like a crime of passion.
As he launches into an investigation to clear his name, Maddox accesses private cell phone videos on the cloud, social media feeds, GPS trackers, body cam and all-seeing drone footage, often losing sight of the investigation to feed us exposition or some memory meant to be a shortcut to further character development.
We also glimpse footage of encampments and riot police, which could and should trigger responses for how closely it resembles what’s taking place on our newsfeeds. However, in Mercy, which is so uninvested in its world-building, it’s all just visual noise, more tabs in its barrage of streaming footage.
Raven also calls on his partner, Detective Jaq (Kali Reis from True Detective: Night Country), who chases down leads and suspects at his behest. Her video calls bring us in on the occasional fight or high-speed chase, but these barely raise a pulse because they often come through with the detachment of watching someone playing a video game.
Rebecca Ferguson plays an avatar named Judge Maddox.Courtesy of Amazon MGM Studios/Amazon MGM Studios.
There is of course the mystery element, which is intriguing enough for a brief period, as we acclimatize to Mercy’s 3D multi-screen presentation of clues and red herrings. But the screenplay, credited to Marco van Belle, gets increasingly frustrating as it regularly tosses aside human logic in its characters, just to keep the plot and premise going.
You’ll glean pretty early on who the actual culprit is, because the storytelling here tends to be so algorithmic. What you probably can’t predict, is the why, because their plot and motives grow so ridiculous and stupid, as Mercy attempts to pile on stakes as an afterthought.
If you think the stakes here are the threat of AI, the movie manages to be both preachy and politely measured on that front. “Human or AI, we all make mistakes,” Raven sermonizes by the end.
Mercy makes a damning case, not against the new technology that’s flooding our current reality with unreality, but against itself.
Special to The Globe and Mail