Listen, we need to have a real conversation about Sam Raimi’s latest, Send Help.
If you’re anything like me, the name "Sam Raimi" isn't just a director credit—it’s a whole damn mood. It’s a promise of that beautiful, chaotic "splatstick" energy we grew up on. Whether it was the DIY genius of the original Evil Dead trilogy that basically invented a new language for horror, the operatic, pulp-noir soul of Darkman, or the way he made us actually care about Peter Parker's heart before the explosions started in the early 2000s, Raimi has always been a master of the tonal tightrope. He’s the only director who can make you scream and laugh in the same breath, blending genuine dread with Looney Tunes-esque slapstick.
So, when the news broke that he was helming a new thriller starring Rachel McAdams and Dylan O’Brien? My hype wasn't just high; it was reaching orbit. I walked into that theater begging for something unhinged. I wanted the kinetic camera work that feels like the lens is chasing the characters, the mean-spirited humor, and that specific brand of "gross-out" magic that made Drag Me to Hell such a cult masterpiece.
Did I get it? Well... sort of. It’s a bit of a mixed bag, but honestly? Even "middle-of-the-road" Raimi is still more interesting than most directors' best days. Here’s the breakdown of how it actually felt to sit through it.
The Setup: Corporate Hell Meets Actual Hell
The premise is simple, but it hits close to home if you've ever worked for a total nightmare of a human being. Dylan O’Brien plays this spoiled, arrogant CEO—a kid who basically fell upward into his dad’s company after his father passed away. He’s the literal definition of "unearned confidence," a man who has never heard the word "no" and views the entire world as his personal boardroom.
Opposite him is Rachel McAdams as his long-suffering assistant. She’s the one actually running the show, the hyper-competent glue holding his chaotic life together, and she’s getting zero credit for it. She was promised a promotion that this new "boy king" has absolutely no intention of giving her. The friction between them is palpable; you have the entitled executive who thinks money can solve physics, and the subordinate who actually knows how to survive a Monday morning.
Then, the plane crashes overseas during a high-stakes merger trip.
Suddenly, we’re on a deserted island, and all those titles, stock options, and bank accounts? They mean nothing. It’s Cast Away meets Misery, filtered through a darkly comedic, Hitchcockian lens. I loved watching the power dynamic shift. When the cell service dies, the "social contract" dies with it. The film uses this isolation to ask a really biting question: when you strip away the suits and the hierarchies, who is actually in charge? Watching the toxicity of an office relationship mutate into a literal fight for survival is where the movie finally finds its pulse.
The Performances: Why You Should Actually Care
If there is one solitary, "buy the ticket" reason to see this, it’s the cast. They take a script that—if I’m being honest—sometimes feels a little thin and generic, and they absolutely carry it across the finish line through sheer force of will.
Rachel McAdams is a beast. We’re used to her being the rom-com queen in About Time or the grounded dramatic lead in Spotlight, but every once in a while—like in Red Eye—she shows us her teeth. Here, she goes feral. Watching her transform from a timid office worker who fades into the background to keep the peace into a woman who is "letting her hair down" (quite literally) was so incredibly satisfying. You can see the darkness in her eyes—it’s like she’s been training for this nightmare by surviving a toxic workplace for years. She brings a raw, physical intensity to the role that makes you believe she could actually take down a wild animal while her boss is busy crying over his ruined loafers.
Dylan O’Brien is having the time of his life. I’ve been a fan since his "Void Stiles" days on Teen Wolf, which proved he could play a terrifying villain, and he brings that same manic, chaotic energy here. He makes the "Boss from Hell" pathetic and hilarious all at once. He captures that specific type of corporate incompetence that becomes life-threatening in the woods—the man who thinks he can "manage" a survival situation like a quarterly review. The tug-of-war for power between him and McAdams is electric, and O’Brien isn’t afraid to make himself look weak, foolish, and completely out of his depth.
The "Raimi" of it All
As a self-proclaimed "Raimi Head," I was looking for those signature directorial touches like a hawk. And they’re there! When the film allows Sam to stretch his legs, we get the goods: the disorienting Dutch angles that make the island feel askew, the extreme close-ups (lots of manic eye shots focusing on fear and paranoia!), and that heightened, almost campy tone that makes his movies feel like nothing else.
The sound design is where the "Raimi Factor" really kicks in. The wind howls just a little louder than it should, and the trees seem to lean in with a menacing intent, creating an atmosphere that feels almost supernatural even though there isn't a ghost in sight. For the gore-hounds, there are fleeting moments of that classic gross-out humor. There’s a specific sequence involving a boar in the second act that felt like it was ripped straight out of the Evil Dead cutting room floor—it’s messy, intense, and darkly funny. It reminds you that Raimi is the master of making the physical world feel like it’s actively conspiring against the protagonist.
Where It Lost Me a Little
I’ve gotta be honest with you guys: it’s not the modern masterpiece we were all hoping for.
The first 25 minutes? Honestly, a bit of a slog. It felt like a standard, somewhat bland workplace drama. Sam Raimi doesn’t usually do "bland," so the slow start was a bit of a shock to the system. It lacks the satirical bite or visual inventiveness we expect from him until the plane actually goes down. In a thriller, that lost momentum in the first act can be deadly.
Also, the movie feels like it’s having a bit of an identity crisis. The trailer sold it as a non-stop, intense horror fest, but the actual film is much more of a dark comedy-thriller. While that’s fine, the movie seems to lack the confidence to fully commit to either side. I kept waiting for it to go "full throttle" into the madness—to lean harder into the Misery aspect of forced reliance and obsession. There is a nastier, meaner, and bloodier version of this film that might have been left on the editing room floor. It touches on psychological horror but pulls its punches right when it should be delivering the knockout blow.
MY RATING: 3/5
Is it a masterpiece? No. It lacks the cohesive punch of his best work. Is it a waste of your Saturday? Definitely not.
In a month like January, which is notoriously known as the "dump month" for weak studio projects, Send Help is a breath of fresh air. It is miles ahead of films like Night Swim or other recent January horror entries. It’s a solid, fun ride fueled by two incredible lead performances and just enough "Raimi Magic" to keep you entertained. Just don’t go in expecting Evil Dead II levels of insanity, or you might leave feeling a little deflated.
My advice? Go for a matinee. Skip the trailers if you haven't seen them yet, because they set an expectation the movie isn't interested in meeting. Just let the movie be its weird, quirky, survivalist self. Even when Raimi is playing it safe, he’s still more interesting than 90% of the directors out there.
But I want to hear from you guys! Did that ending work for you? Am I being too hard on the first act? Did you enjoy the twisty dynamic between Rachel and Dylan as much as I did? Let’s talk about it in the comments below!





