As a proud Minnesotan, Mercy really isn’t the right movie for the moment. Now entering its third week, the ongoing inhumane ICE raids throughout the Minneapolis area have ravaged the community, forcing citizens to fear those who have supposedly sworn to protect them. Minnesotans have always exemplified a strong communal spirit, so we will prevail. Within the opening scenes of Mercy, there are several moments where masked law enforcement officers arrest vaguely defined bad guys. These officers then make speeches about how they are doing what needs to be done to uphold the law. The country is at war with its morals, and the wrong side is winning.

In fairness to Mercy, it was conceived, written, and produced years before today’s headlines, and it certainly had no intention (or courage) to make a statement. But this is also a movie that is not right for any moment, with little to warrant the amount of time and energy that went into its creation. January is always good for one movie that a studio would like to bury with as little fanfare as possible. Mercy is this year’s poster child, falling in line alongside such classics as Flight Risk, The 355, Mortdecai, Dolittle, Serenity, and the bulk of the Underworld movies. We’ll at least always have my beloved The Beekeeper.

Perhaps the only redeeming quality this film has is the presence of a 50-foot-tall Rebecca Ferguson, domineering over her chained-up prisoners. I’d imagine someone will get a kick out of that (not me, of course…). Her existence is a function of the Mercy Program, which has rapidly usurped the traditional legal system within Los Angeles County. Things such as rights and due process were clogging the judicial pipeline, so an artificial intelligence system was promoted to the simultaneous roles of judge, jury, and executioner. In this courtroom, you’re guilty until proven innocent, and you only have ninety minutes to overturn the verdict.

Detective Chris Raven (Chris Pratt) was an early proponent of this new system, arresting many of its initial convicts. Now the shoe is on the other foot, with him being locked in the steel chair. The system anthropomorphizes itself through Judge Maddox (Rebecca Reguson), whose sleek looks are matched by the coldness it displays towards humanity. Facts and logic trump emotions, which run hot as Chris stands trial for the alleged murder of his wife, Nicole. Within his allotted time, Chris is given full access to the municipal database, which pretty much lets him do whatever the plot needs of him.

An authoritarian near-future sci-fi plot such as this shares several ideas with Philip K. Dick’s Minority Report, which imagines a world where supposedly incorruptible foreknowledge can be used to prevent a crime before it is even committed. Director Steven Spielberg and screenwriters Scott Frank and Jon Cohen brought thought-provoking nuance to this concept in the 2002 film adaptation starring Tom Cruise. Humans no longer trust themselves to be their own police, somehow thinking that a system built by them will be a better replacement. Freedom has been traded away in favor of alleged security.

Mercy fully lacks any interest or ability to mingle with those ideals. Director Timur Bekmambetov and screenwriter Marco van Belle would rather disorient the viewer than engage with them. Legal jargon and plot revelations fly at an increasingly accelerated pace, all of it seemingly pulled out of thin air to service whatever needs to happen at this exact moment. And not to spoil the ending, but this film cowardly talks out of both sides of its mouth when it comes to artificial intelligence, government surveillance, and the increased militarization of the police.

Bekmambetov was also a leading producer for last year’s Ice Cube-starring War of the Worlds, a cinematic calamity that will always be easy to laugh at. That film was produced during the COVID-19 pandemic, employing the “Screenlife” strategy to make it appear as if the film's events were unfolding on a computer monitor. Used more as a cost-cutting measure rather than a means to upend the cinematic grammar, this aesthetic wholly lacks any sense of cinematic integrity. War of the Worlds at least had the benefit of solely being watched at home through Amazon Prime. Mercy putting it all on a silver screen is just lame, hitting way too close to my usual experience at work. A significant portion of this film’s marketing budget has been used to promote its release in IMAX 3D, a format I imagine would be an absolute nightmare to experience.

Pratt is a terrific star when given the chance to feed off other people’s energy, such as in the many seasons of Parks and Recreation and the Guardians of the Galaxy franchise. This film fully strips away that asset, locking him in a single location, devoid of all humor or thrills. Rebecca Ferguson gets even less to do as the artificial overlord, dryly reciting lines and mugging for the camera anytime a music sting cues a reveal. This story offers little mercy to their careers and to its audience. Luckily, I’ll be able to get my revenge a year from now when we’re able to discuss the worst films of 2026.