Review: Send Help (2026)

There’s a chaotic energy running through Send Help that immediately reminds you why Sam Raimi remains one of the most distinct voices in horror cinema. After years of larger studio productions and blockbuster filmmaking (Drag Me to Hell notwithstanding), Send Help feels like Raimi reconnecting with the manic, off-kilter instincts that made films like The Evil Dead and Evil Dead II cult classics. It’s funny, grotesque, tense and knowingly ridiculous in equal measureand, most importantly, it’s absolutely twisted.

I think what makes Send Help work so well is its deceptively simple premise. Raimi takes a survival scenario and twists it into something deeply psychological, absurdly uncomfortable and consistently entertaining. The movie constantly walks a tonal tightrope between horror and dark comedy, but Raimi’s confidence behind the camera means it never collapses into parody. Instead, the unease becomes part of the humour. Characters say the wrong thing at the wrong time. Moments of terror are punctuated by awkwardness and human stupidity. The film understands that panic often makes people ridiculous, and it mines that truth brilliantly.

The performances are a huge reason the movie succeeds. Rachel McAdams delivers one of most memorable performances of her long and studied career, playing her role with an eerie unpredictability that keeps every scene alive. She’s unsettling without ever becoming cartoonish, somehow balancing genuine menace with this wonderfully strange comedic rhythm. One moment she’s deeply unnerving, the next she’s hilariously awkward, and the transitions happen so seamlessly that you never quite know how to read her. Raimi clearly understands how effective McAdams can be when she's allowed to lean into her stranger instincts, and she absolutely runs with it. There’s something delightfully “off” about her performance in the best possible way.

Dylan O'Brien is equally impressive, even if his character spends much of the runtime behaving like a complete douchebag. I haven't seen much of O'Brien since the Maze Runner movies, but I really dug his performance in this. What prevents his he character from becoming unbearable is O’Brien’s ability to reveal flashes of humanity underneath all the arrogance and selfishness. Raimi and the screenplay never try to overly sanitise him; instead, they allow him to remain frustratingly flawed while still giving the audience glimpses of vulnerability. Those quieter moments land because O’Brien plays them sincerely rather than sentimentally. It gives the film an emotional texture that elevates it beyond a standard survival thriller.

Visually, Raimi hasn’t lost a step. In fact, Send Help often feels like a filmmaker gleefully returning to the stylistic tricks that made him famous. The frantic camera movements, exaggerated zooms, warped perspectives and sudden bursts of visual insanity all feel ripped straight from his early horror work. There are sequences here that feel spiritually connected to Evil Dead (you'll know when you see them) not in a nostalgic or fan-service way, but in the sense that Raimi is once again embracing chaos as a filmmaking language. He shoots horror with movement and personality, something that so many modern genre films completely lack.

What’s especially refreshing is how tactile the movie feels. Even during its more absurd moments, Send Help never feels sterile or overly polished. There’s dirt under its fingernails. The environments feel sweaty, grimy and oppressive, which makes the humour land even harder because the film never loses its sense of danger. Raimi understands that horror-comedy only works when the horror itself still functions, and there are several moments throughout the film that are genuinely tense and uncomfortable. Also, the man knows how to shoot Thailand!

The pacing occasionally wobbles in the middle act, and not every comedic beat lands perfectly. There are moments where the film threatens to indulge in its own weirdness a little too much, particularly when our leads occasionally drift into caricature. But even when it stumbles, the film remains entertaining because Raimi’s direction is so energetic and committed. You can feel a filmmaker having fun again, and that enthusiasm becomes infectious.

Ultimately, Send Help is exactly the kind of mid-budget horror-thriller Hollywood desperately needs more of: director-driven, weird, stylish and unconcerned with sanding off its rough edges. It’s a reminder that Raimi’s greatest strength has never been subtlety, it’s his ability to turn chaos into entertainment. The film may not reach the heights of his absolute classics, but it absolutely recaptures their spirit.

Most importantly, it’s just a genuinely fun time. Funny, creepy, tense and gloriously strange, Send Help proves that Sam Raimi still knows exactly how to make audiences squirm and laugh at the same time.

4/5.