Send Help
You ever hunt? I think I like it... and this ol' fashioned good time of a movie.
The basic premise of Send Help - a socially awkward but talented woman, Linda (Rachel McAdams), is mistreated by her sexist boss, Bradley (Dylan O’Brien), only for the power dynamic to flip when the pair find themselves stranded on a deserted island - is firmly B-grade movie territory. In the hands of most directors, this would result in a perfectly serviceable flick. But with director Sam Raimi and his unique, how shall I put this, schlocky juvenile yet humanistic touch at the helm, this movie is elevated from genre cannon fodder to a thrillingly great time.
The opening 15 minutes are nothing we haven’t seen before. There’s Linda being unable to pick up social cues, her ‘white man who failed upwards’ manager taking credit for her hard work, Bradley being a stereotypical rich white dick, and her lonely existence outside of work, which consists of watching Survivor with her pet bird. Groundbreaking stuff, this is not.
But Send Help gets you onto its wavelength by leaning on its two biggest strengths: Raimi’s impeccable tone management and Rachel McAdams.
McAdams’ uncanny ability to show every conceivable emotion on her face goes a long way in making Linda the right balance of borderline annoying yet sympathetic. Being able to go from Michael Scott-levels of cringe to holding back tears after Bradley crosses the line in the span of 30 seconds makes me wonder why we haven’t showered McAdams with more acting awards. I hate Survivor, yet I’d entertain the thought of watching it with Linda.
Sprinkled throughout this McAdams showcase are several well-deployed Raimi magic touches. The close-up of the smudge of tuna salad on the corner of Linda’s mouth as she’s trying to (re)introduce herself to Bradley, the awkward framing of Linda cramming a sandwich in her mouth (then her desk drawer), and the way the camera follows Linda’s wine glass as it’s repeatedly refilled again and again. It all feels like Raimi winking at us while puncturing built up moments of tension or awkwardness. Or maybe he just really likes shots of food.
So far, the appetiser is pretty good, but the main course is overwhelming with flavour when Linda and Bradley get stranded on the deserted island. Right away, you feel a shift in Linda. We’re told she’s ‘brilliant’ and a ‘savant’ several times, but now we actually see it in action as she takes to the whole ‘surviving on an island’ thing like a fish to water. Bradley? Well, he fares as well as one might expect him to in a situation where throwing money at it doesn’t solve the problem (‘Hepl?’). There’s really not much to Bradley on paper, right down to his sob story of a childhood, but O’Brien is able to inject moments where you think that maybe his character’s not that big of a dick. O’Brien never overplays it and is always at the right level of incompetence.
You can definitely read into the whole reverse power dynamic between a seemingly meek, put upon woman and her nepo baby white male boss as a critique of the lonely working class being screwed over by unqualified executives, the glass ceiling, and sexism. Raimi gives this movie enough room for us to do that. But his default mode of not giving any flying fucks about anything other than taking us for a joy ride works just as well, if not better.
Sometimes that’s all you need in a movie, and Send Help is unashamed to give it to us.
It’s just so satisfying to watch Linda come into her own while Bradley is as useful as a vomit-flavoured lollipop. Both McAdams and O’Brien bring an unsettling yet magnetic energy to their dynamic. As soon as you think the pair might be getting along, something happens that makes you think otherwise. There are several moments of Linda laughing along with Bradley, but you can’t tell if she’s genuinely enjoying the company or the power she wields over him. Then there are moments where Bradley appears to get his comeuppance, only for a hint of that cocky smirk to reappear.
Setting Raimi loose on a deserted island also means we get to see him have the most fun he’s had in ages (I try to forget his Marvel stint).
The sequence where Linda tracks down a wild boar, only for it to rush her like a rabid raptor cut out from Jurassic World is peak Raimi. As the boar thrashes around, Linda adapts and gets the upper hand on the swine with her homemade spear, all while being showered with a disgusting flurry of swine snot, spit, and blood. Watching McAdams’ adrenaline-pumped screams while spitting out gobs of blood is a level of viscerality second to none. Just seeing her blood-splatted face and teeth, you can almost taste it. Give McAdams all the trophies now, please and thank you.
Scenes like that are balanced with the occasional human moment. Not long after landing on the island, Linda is alone and crying, then laughing… and then crying again in disbelief, almost like she can’t believe her good fortune. Immediately afterwards, she’s gleefully dancing around with her newly-found conch shell (which she pronounces as ‘conk’). You just know you’d be dancing too if you found a ‘conk’ shell.
Up until the final 20 or so minutes, Send Help is a hell of a ride. But there has to be a resolution of some kind. As entertaining as the premise is, it ultimately limits the movie to a conclusion that can only be somewhat satisfying. Having said that, there are big reveals that wrap up what appear to be odd plot holes and contrivances. The script is tight enough that there are no loose ends, scenes, or stray Chekhov’s guns where the suspension of disbelief is pushed beyond where it needs to go.
Send Help is a reminder of how much fun it is when Sam Raimi’s allowed to go ‘Raimi’ with an intriguing genre premise. Watching McAdams snarl, fight, and think her way out of problems while being showered with inordinate amounts of bodily fluids is a wicked good time. While critics, characters, and even we may underestimate her from time to time, it feels fitting that she and the seemingly-forgotten Raimi have teamed up to give us such a messy yet enjoyable romp.