“Meet Linda Liddle,” commands the poster for “Send Help,” which features a blood-drenched, knife-wielding Rachel McAdams. “She’s in Strategy and Planning.” The subtext: Sam Raimi is back.
During the last two decades (the post-“Spider-Man” trilogy phase of his career), Raimi, now an elder statesman of cinema, has directed few films. Yet during that time, a defining theme has burst forth: his desire to test the limits of character likability.
That trend held true in “Drag Me to Hell” (2009), about a loan officer cursed for turning down the wrong lady; “Oz the Great and Powerful” (2013), a revisionist take on the not-so-wonderful wizard’s flimflammery; and “Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness” (2022), in which an ego-driven Stephen Strange battles the magically corrupt Scarlet Witch (whose villainy remains controversial among MCU fans).
Those harrowing tales, however, are mere appetizers when compared to the terrifying banquet of “Send Help,” which is Raimi’s first wholly original horror film in 17 years—and a wickedly droll survival thriller grounded in the natural world (barring a guilt-ridden zombie nightmare or two). It’s a film that takes the director’s likability tests to a new level, putting two characters at each other’s throats following reams of bad business between them (literally).
As always, Raimi makes room for his signature quirks: a Danny Elfman score; shots from a predator’s POV (a wild boar, in this case); and, of course, a cameo by Bruce Campbell, whose portrait can be spotted in the corner office of Bradley Preston (Dylan O’Brien), representing the father from whom Bradley inherited the company where Linda works.
As played by O’Brien, Bradley walks on a tightrope between formality and boorishness. He’s a classically misogynistic nepo-baby business bro who lords over Linda, favoring his frat brothers for promotions (one of them even steals credit for Linda’s diligent work). “I know that you are great with numbers…but I just don’t think you got it as an executive,” Bradley tells Linda. “I see no value in you.” It is a cruel denigration that Bradley (and his vital organs) will soon regret.
Far from Regina George’s queen bee status, McAdams (another “Multiverse of Madness” veteran) plays Linda as meek in the office but cheerful at home, where she drinks wine and watches “Survivor” (with her pet bird Sweetie). A failed contender for the iconic reality show, she is almost gleeful when she and Bradley crash-land on a tropical island during a business flight to Bangkok, an ordeal that leaves her vile boss weak and dependent on her.
When Bradley first meets Linda, she makes a poor first impression by accidentally spraying him with a gob of tuna (after which he uses a great deal of Purell). On the island, however, Bradley has to unlearn his fastidiousness, going from refusing to eat fish fried by Linda to desperately trying (and failing) to devour a live cricket.
Picky eating is often considered a hallmark of autism and other neurodivergent conditions, which makes it interesting that Bradley gets this particular trait while Linda does not. Yet Linda does check other boxes to imply that she is autistic, with her hyperfixation on “Survivor” and her social awkwardness (she is much more enthusiastic and confident when she gets to display her survival skills).
In the earliest trailer for “Send Help,” there was much lingering on the scene where Bradley tells Linda that he’s received complaints about “noxious odors.” The implication in the marketing was that Linda has a dangerous dark side hidden beneath the surface, but the actual truth is as layered as an onion, with each pass of the peeler leading to a darkly humorous twist.
To that end, “Send Help” relies greatly on sex-based sympathy as Linda endures the humiliations of the boys’ club. If she were a man, but still awkward and autistic-coded, many viewers would probably perceive the character as scorn-worthy from the start—especially in a world where men like Elon Musk, Neil Gaiman, and Kanye West have arguably attempted to use autism as an excuse for horrible behaviors.
Ultimately, Linda’s and Bradley’s arcs add up to some of Raimi’s most intensive character work yet, playing on viewers’ emotions expertly as both boss and subordinate (but which is which?) bring out the worst in each other. At some point, they’ll each lose most viewers’ support, but that’s precisely the point of Raimi’s gross-out funhouse ride, which has blood, guts, and dinner presentations deadly enough to impress Gordon Ramsay.
In other words, go see “Send Help.” Just don’t accept any kebabs or salsas on this island.
