Imagine being stranded on a desert island with the person who just ruined your career. Sounds like a nightmare, right? But what if it’s the perfect recipe for revenge? Rachel McAdams stars in Sam Raimi’s Send Help, a twisted survival tale that flips the power dynamic in the most unexpected ways. And this is the part most people miss: it’s not just about survival—it’s about transformation, both physical and psychological.
Three years ago, Ruben Östlund’s Triangle of Sadness took the Cannes Film Festival by storm, winning the Palme d’Or with its biting satire of the elite. In it, a cruise ship of self-absorbed oligarchs and influencers sinks near a tropical island, leaving them at the mercy of a resourceful janitor who turns the tables on their privilege. Send Help treads similar ground but with a B-movie flair that’s all Raimi. Here, the setting is a private jet crash, and the survivors are Linda Liddle (McAdams), a brilliant but overlooked corporate number cruncher, and her smarmy boss, Bradley (Dylan O’Brien), who’s just passed her over for a promotion. Spoiler alert: their island getaway isn’t exactly a team-building retreat.
But here’s where it gets controversial: While Triangle of Sadness used its premise to critique class inequality, Send Help leans into chaos and dark humor, leaving deeper themes on the cutting room floor. Is this a missed opportunity, or does Raimi’s approach offer something uniquely entertaining? You decide.
McAdams delivers a surprising performance as the frumpy, undervalued Linda, a far cry from her Mean Girls days. Her transformation from downtrodden employee to island survivor is as dramatic as it is satisfying, though you can’t help but wonder if the character’s initial dowdiness feels a tad exaggerated. Still, it’s a refreshing stretch for McAdams, much like Michelle Pfeiffer’s turn as Selina Kyle in Batman Returns—you know she’s not really that hopeless, but the contrast makes her rise all the more compelling.
O’Brien, fresh off his jaw-dropping dual role in Twinless, plays Bradley with smug entitlement, a character so unlikeable you almost root for his downfall. Yet, his dynamic with Linda keeps the film unpredictable—until the ending, which feels all too familiar. And this is the part most people miss: Raimi’s disregard for logical behavior in favor of pure, gonzo energy makes Send Help a wild ride, even if it sacrifices plausibility for shock value.
From Bradley’s festering leg wound to a cringe-worthy wild boar cameo (why, CGI, why?), Raimi doesn’t hold back on the gross-out humor. But unlike Östlund’s subtle satire, Raimi’s film is more interested in pushing buttons than making statements. Is this a weakness, or does it give Send Help a unique appeal? It’s a question that divides audiences.
What’s undeniable is the film’s ability to keep you guessing. Linda’s growing enjoyment of their stranded situation contrasts sharply with Bradley’s desperation to return to his fiancée (Edyll Ismail), who appears in dream sequences that feel both out of place and oddly fitting. Their relationship never turns romantic—a bold departure from tropes like Romancing the Stone—but instead escalates into a far-fetched war of wills. It’s absurd, it’s over-the-top, and it’s undeniably fun.
Here’s the real question: Does Send Help need to be more than a popcorn flick to succeed? Or is its refusal to take itself seriously its greatest strength? Let us know in the comments—we’re curious to hear your take on this chaotic island adventure.
