Mercy turns Chris Pratt’s star power into an AI-era warning—and the “safety” of its justice system is the real thriller

A new sci-fi courtroom thriller is tapping into a very current anxiety: what happens when the system meant to protect you decides it’s faster to assume you’re guilty. Mercy (2026), led by Chris Pratt, doesn’t sell fear through aliens or superweapons. It sells it through something quieter—digital certainty. The film’s central hook is simple and chilling: an AI court gives a defendant 90 minutes to prove innocence, and if the algorithm won’t budge, the sentence is immediate.

When “efficient justice” becomes the scariest kind of mistake

Mercy is built around a future that feels uncomfortably close rather than distant. In its version of Los Angeles, the justice system doesn’t just use technology—it runs on it. Evidence isn’t a messy human argument; it’s a flood of surveillance video, messages, cloud logs, and social footprints pulled into a pristine courtroom interface. The film’s tension comes from a question many viewers already wrestle with in real life: if your devices can tell a story about you, who gets to decide what that story means?

The movie pushes that fear to an extreme with a “probability of guilt” readout that ticks like a bomb. It’s not the judge’s mood that matters. It’s the score. That framing turns “mercy” into a loaded word—because the system isn’t designed to forgive, hesitate, or doubt itself.

Inside Mercy: cast, concept, and what’s driving the conversation

Pratt plays LAPD homicide detective Chris Raven, accused of murdering his wife and forced to argue his own case under a rigid time limit. Rebecca Ferguson plays Judge Maddox, the human-like AI presence presiding over his trial—cool, controlled, and terrifyingly confident. The supporting cast includes Annabelle Wallis (Raven’s wife), Kylie Rogers (his daughter), Kali Reis (his partner), and Chris Sullivan (a figure tied to Raven’s personal life and credibility).

Two creative choices are making the film stand out—even among AI thrillers:

• Pratt’s restrained performance: Much of his role is physically restricted, pushing him away from swagger and into panic, pleading, and vulnerability. That’s a noticeable shift for an actor often used as the “can-handle-anything” engine of big action franchises.

• The “screenlife” approach: Large parts of the narrative play out through screens—feeds, interfaces, evidence windows, and digital reconstructions—so the viewer experiences the case the way the system experiences it: as data.

The release has also arrived with a split reaction. Early critical response has leaned mixed-to-negative, while audience feedback has been more varied, with exit polling signaling a middle-of-the-road reception rather than instant word-of-mouth raves. Commercially, the film debuted in theaters on January 23, 2026, opened strong for its day-one numbers, and entered the weekend tracking toward a solid—if not blockbuster—start for an original sci-fi title in late January.

Micro Q&A

Is Mercy based on a true story?
No. It’s a fictional near-future thriller built around current debates over surveillance, algorithmic decision-making, and the role of AI in law enforcement.

Who is the AI judge in Mercy?
Judge Maddox, played by Rebecca Ferguson, an AI authority running a high-speed “Mercy Court” process.

What’s different about Chris Pratt in this one?
He spends much of the film physically constrained and emotionally exposed—less action-hero dominance, more desperation and fragility.

By design, Mercy doesn’t ask you to fear AI because it’s evil. It asks you to fear it because it’s confident—and because a system that never doubts itself can be the most dangerous courtroom of all.