Send Help

Wickedly lovable with the potential to be timeless, “Send Help” is controlled delirium microwaved on high heat.

A vicious, relentless dark comedy, the film takes the well-worn “unlikely duo forced to work together” premise and strips it down to the bone—then starts gnawing.

Send Help is a brilliant, startlingly gory dark comedy. Sam Raimi still has that old magic.

It’s a perfect bit of shlock.

This is an immensely effective tropical island-set chamber drama in which two characters see their gender and labor relations start to reverse in ways that eventually reveal surprising ambiguities.

Even though it gives away one twist/gag too easily and tends to pummel us in the finale, I have no notes. This is a damned funny riff on “Survivor” and the very idea that the dainty McAdams might have a little “Misery” era Kath Bates in her.

It’s a time-honoured and perfectly enjoyable setup, and the first act, when the new reality dawns on clueless Bradley, is watchable. But the plot twists are derivative and the action then becomes dependent on weird stabs of grisliness that are not convincing or consistent with the characterisation.

If you can imagine '9 to 5', 'The Admirable Crichton' and 'Lord of the Flies' rolled into one, then that gives you some idea of what this film is like. Linda Liddle (Rachel McAdams) is a data analyst for a consultancy firm. Her immediate boss, Donovan (Xavier Samuel) claims credit for her work. However he is merely a junior **** compared to Bradley Preston (Dylan O'Brien), the entitled son of the founder, who is now CEO. In a world of bro's, Linda is the lowest of the low and despised by them. She only survives because she is so valuable but her social skills and penchant for tuna sandwiches are only a few of the things that stop her scaling the office ladder. However if the tables were turned and Linda became the alpha, how would the boys feel then? Particularly Bradley. I don't want to say too much but this film has many layers and if you think you have sussed it out, then the next scene can completely confound you about the direction it is taking. This is one for office nerds everywhere who have dreamed of sticking it to senior management but have never had the opportunity. For Linda that becomes a reality and we can enjoy unpeeling the layers of this film and trying to anticipate its twists and turns. There is much more I could say about this film but I don't want to spoil it for you. It is only February but this is the best film I have seen this year so far, possibly a contender for film of the year. Rachel McAdams is brilliant as Linda and Dylan O'Brien is the perfect foil as Bradley. This film really struck a chord with me and though it is utter fantasy, I really got involved in it which is something that rarely happens. More comedy than horror it is true but certainly a must see if you like the films I do.

Sam Raimi turns a very predictable story into an entertaining two-hour flick. He injects many of his signature quirks such as the dark comedy, visceral horror, gruesome gore, and a kinetic filmmaking style which elevate the film.Rachel McAdams delivers a terrific, layered performance as the lead. She begins as someone awkward and cringy but gradually evolving into someone genuinely menacing and unhinged. The highlight of the film is the tension between her character and Dylan O’Brien’s.Despite all this, the film feels somewhat tame and isn’t among Raimi’s most memorable works. Still, it’s enjoyable enough that you’ll leave feeling you had a good time.

Send Help apuesta por una premisa clásica de supervivencia y la desarrolla de manera correcta, aunque sin demasiadas sorpresas. La tensión está presente y el ritmo es constante, pero el guion no profundiza lo suficiente en los personajes ni en los conflictos internos. Funciona como entretenimiento ligero dentro del género, aunque le falta ese elemento distintivo que la haría destacar.

Bridget Jones meets Castaway meets Lord of the Flies. I'm baffled by the generous reviews for this movie. The unoriginal, predictable plot with more holes than Swiss cheese and ridiculous characters that completely loses the run of it itself by the end and just decided to wrap it up quickly. I guess it does appeal to the "girl power" brigade so the generous reviews are perhaps unstandable. Women strong rawrrrr.

I love you, Raimi. I have a soft spot for Sam Raimi that borders on blind devotion. He’s one of those directors I’ll always keep on a pedestal, whether he delivers a masterpiece or a complete misfire. Send Help, unfortunately, leans closer to the latter—though it’s a disappointment I was already bracing for. And the frustrating part is that it begins so well. The opening sequences—those set in the office—have presence. There’s a clear functional intent, a rhythm that almost echoes Zack Snyder at times, and a sense of solid construction. For a moment, it genuinely feels like the film is building toward something compelling. But then the plane arrives… and everything begins to unravel, slowly but steadily, until it crashes under its own weight. Rachel McAdams becomes a rather conflicted focal point. Her performance exists in an uncomfortable space: her character feels pedantic, yet undeniably magnetic. She gives off both warmth and coldness at once, and that tension is valuable. I’m never entirely sure where she’s heading, even if I can sketch out possibilities. It’s not a performance that impresses me outright, but it does provoke something—and that matters. It leaves me wondering whether my issue lies with her as an actress or purely with the character. I feel compelled now to revisit About Time, The Notebook, and Mean Girls to find an answer. As it stands, my relationship with her here feels oddly toxic—an ongoing push and pull between attraction and rejection. With Dylan O'Brien, the reaction is similar, though more muted. I’ve always seen him as an actor who simply does the job. Never particularly charismatic, never truly transcendent. And here, once again, I feel a certain rejection—but it seems intentional, aligned with the character’s design. He’s effective at being unlikable, which, I suspect, is precisely the point. Where the film truly falters is in its visual texture—specifically, the CGI. It breaks immersion. It feels artificial, almost clay-like, as if nothing carries real weight. I understand the practical limitations of staging something as complex as a plane disaster, but when you think about how Christopher Nolan has approached similar challenges with tangible methods, it inevitably raises questions. Perhaps the issue isn’t the film itself, but my growing intolerance for digital artifice. Stripping away that digital falseness, the film remains visually engaging. It’s easy to watch, never overwhelming in the way Snyder’s more excessive tendencies can be. There’s a clear intention behind where the viewer’s gaze is directed, often emphasized with aggressive zooms. This flamboyant style strongly recalls Drag Me to Hell—a film that, like this one, seems to aim for horror but frequently slips into something bordering on parody. At times, it feels closer in spirit to Scary Movie than to genuine terror. I find myself laughing more than feeling fear. And yet, paradoxically, the film surprises with its brutality. The gore is explicit, sudden, and at times genuinely uncomfortable. It makes me straighten my back, react physically—and I appreciate that. I value cinema that provokes a visceral response, even if the rest of the film struggles to engage me. There’s an aggression here that I admire. Narratively, however, it’s painfully predictable. The dynamic of the undervalued employee versus the arrogant boss, with its inevitable reversal of roles, feels exhausted. I can already sense the trajectory from the premise alone. There’s no real sense of discovery. The core issue lies in the relationship between the two leads. The idea—two people who can’t stand each other forced to survive together in an extreme situation—is strong. But the execution lacks depth. They don’t fully convince me, neither together nor apart. There’s a missed opportunity to explore their interaction with the environment, to push the tension further. Ultimately, the film feels too much like a film. Everything is overly constructed, excessively shaped. Of course, cinema is always artificial—we have figures like Alfred Hitchcock and Stanley Kubrick, masters of meticulous control—but here, that construction feels off. Forced. And I’m aware of the contradiction: when a film leans too much into realism, I want it to go further; when it does, I criticize it for losing authenticity. That tension is, perhaps, partly on me. In the end, this is the weakest film I’ve seen from Sam Raimi so far. My expectations were already tempered, and thankfully so—because while it disappoints, it doesn’t quite feel like a crushing blow. Still, I don’t buy it. And that stings, because when someone of his caliber misses, you can’t help but feel it a little more.