Send Help (2026) — Movie Review
There is a specific kind of film that exists almost nowhere else except inside Sam Raimi's head — one where the camera zooms in with deranged urgency, fluids fly in directions physics never intended, and you find yourself simultaneously horrified and laughing so hard your eyes water. Send Help, Raimi's first horror film since 2009's Drag Me to Hell, is exactly that kind of movie. It is messy, mean-spirited in the best way possible, and an absolute blast from beginning to end.
The setup is pure workplace catharsis. Linda Liddle, played by Rachel McAdams, has spent seven years being overlooked, talked down to, and quietly humiliated at her company. When the CEO dies and his son Bradley, played by Dylan O'Brien, slides into the top job and hands her long-promised promotion to a fraternity buddy, she is shunted sideways with a corporate smile. Then a plane goes down somewhere over open ocean, and suddenly Linda and Bradley are the only two survivors on a deserted island. The corner office does not mean much when you cannot make a fire.
What follows is genuinely surprising. The film draws natural comparisons to Triangle of Sadness in how it gleefully flips the class and gender dynamics set up in the opening act — but it does not stop there. Raimi keeps turning the tables. Every time you think you understand who holds the power between these two, something happens, often involving a considerable amount of blood and boar guts, that reshuffles everything. The script by Damian Shannon and Mark Swift is wickedly clever in how it strings you along.
Rachel McAdams is extraordinary here. Raimi has spoken about feeling she was underused in Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness, and this film reads like a deliberate correction. As Linda, she commits completely — physically, vocally, emotionally. She is funny and frumpy and frightening, sometimes within the same three-second shot. The audience's allegiance shifts with her, which is no small achievement given how morally complicated Linda becomes by the third act. This is award-level work wrapped inside an R-rated genre picture. Dylan O'Brien, meanwhile, makes Bradley so immediately insufferable that the audience practically roots for his suffering, though he finds real moments of sad humanity in the character that make the dynamic richer than simple revenge fantasy.
At 66, Sam Raimi directs Send Help with the unhinged enthusiasm of someone who has been waiting seventeen years to get back onto a set where he can cover his lead actors in something unspeakable. The plane crash sequence that strands the two protagonists is a masterclass in turning genuine horror into grotesque physical comedy. His signature crash zooms and whip-pans are all present, deployed at exactly the right moments. Danny Elfman's score, retro-flavoured and knowingly theatrical, is the perfect accomplice throughout.
The film is not without flaws. At nearly two hours, it overstays its welcome by perhaps fifteen minutes, and a stretch in the second half loses momentum before Raimi reasserts control. A handful of CGI moments look noticeably rough, and one or two plot turns in the final act strain credibility even by this film's already elastic standards. If you walk in expecting a tightly plotted thriller, you may come away frustrated. This is not that kind of movie. It is deliberately shaggy in places, more interested in sensation and dark laughter than narrative precision — and your enjoyment will depend largely on your appetite for that.
There is something almost refreshing about an original, R-rated studio horror film landing in theatres in 2026 with no franchise strings attached. Send Help is not a remake, not a reboot, not based on any existing intellectual property. For that alone, it deserves credit. The fact that it is also frequently hilarious, often genuinely unsettling, and anchored by one of McAdams' best performances makes it one of the more memorable cinema trips of the year. Sam Raimi is back — manic, unapologetic, and clearly having the time of his life. Don't wait for streaming. This one deserves a big screen and a crowd to react with.

0 Comments