Hannah has been writing about horror, sci-fi, and all things nerdy since 2021. At Collider, she covers news and conducts interviews, along with contributing features that dive deep into genre storytelling and why it works. If there’s something lurking in the shadows, she’s probably already writing about it if she's not too busy watching a tape from her VHS collection.

There isn't much left to prove about modern Evil Dead. Over the last decade, the franchise has accomplished what once seemed nearly impossible. It proved Evil Dead could survive without Ash Williams. It proved the series could embrace a darker, more emotionally punishing tone without losing its identity. Most importantly, it produced three outstanding horror movies that stand comfortably alongside Sam Raimi's originals rather than in their shadow. Evil Dead Burn is the latest example of that success. It's a brutally effective horror movie that earns every uncomfortable reaction it gets. The violence is relentless, but what really sticks is the emotional cruelty. The Deadites don't rush through their work. They mock, taunt, manipulate, and drag every confrontation out for as long as possible because they're having far too much fun to simply kill someone and move on. Watching them pick apart a family before they pick up a weapon is often more unsettling than the violence itself. It's also hilarious.

Grandma gets some of the biggest laughs in the movie before she's ever possessed, and once the Deadites take over, the audience is invited to laugh right alongside them. Their sarcastic insults, exaggerated expressions, and gleeful performances regularly earned some of the biggest reactions at my screening. Burn understands something that's always been true about Evil Dead: the Deadites should be terrifying, but they should also be having the absolute time of their lives. That realization also exposes the one ingredient the modern movies haven't quite recaptured. The Deadites still feel like they walked out of a Raimi movie. The world around them doesn't.

One of the easiest criticisms to throw at the modern movies is that they abandoned the franchise's sense of humor. Evil Dead Burn proves otherwise. The comedy has simply shifted almost entirely onto the Deadites themselves. They're still sarcastic little monsters who seem genuinely delighted by every terrible thing they say and do. Possession isn't just about creating another killer, it's about giving the Deadites another stage to perform on. That theatrical streak has always been one of the franchise's greatest strengths.

They're cruel because they enjoy being cruel. They stretch every interaction into another opportunity to show off, whether that means mocking someone's grief, delivering another perfectly timed insult, or grinning through the most horrifying moments imaginable. The Deadites in Burn are every bit as entertaining as the ones audiences met in Evil Dead 2 or Army of Darkness. If anything, they're the strongest they've ever been. That's part of what makes Burn so enjoyable. The movie understands that horror and laughter aren't competing emotions and that they feed each other. The audience laughs because the Deadites are outrageous, and then immediately regrets laughing when the next brutal moment lands. The monsters haven't forgotten what franchise they're in.

Image via New Line Cinema

What's changed is everything around them. One of Raimi's greatest strengths as a filmmaker was his willingness to make the entire movie feel as unhinged as the monsters inhabiting it. The camera crashed through windows and raced through forests. Furniture came to life. Ash fought his own possessed hand. Every scene carried the feeling that absolutely anything could happen, no matter how ridiculous it seemed just seconds earlier, and Bruce Campbell matched that energy with ease. The world itself felt infected, and that's the ingredient the modern movies rarely chase.

Beginning with Fede Álvarez's 2013 reboot, Evil Dead became more grounded. The characters feel like real people carrying real grief, and the violence lands because the emotional stakes are taken so seriously. Evil Dead Rise refined that approach, while Burn pushes it even further by making family trauma just as devastating as the gore itself. It's an approach that clearly works, but it also creates an interesting contrast. The Deadites are still operating with the same manic, mischievous energy they've always had, while everyone else is trapped inside a world that plays by much stricter rules. That tension isn't a flaw. In fact, it's one of the reasons Burn is so effective. It just isn't the same kind of chaos that once made Evil Dead feel unlike anything else in horror.

Image via Rosebud Releasing Corporation

The answer isn't to undo what the modern movies have accomplished. Evil Dead Wrath, the upcoming prequel set in 1972 before the events of the original movie, feels like the natural continuation of this darker era. There's no reason to expect it to suddenly embrace slapstick, and there shouldn't be. The modern movies have earned their reputation as some of the best horror movies of the last decade by committing completely to their more brutal identity. The opportunity comes after that. One of the reasons Evil Dead has endured for more than 40 years is because every major chapter reinvents the franchise instead of trying to outdo the last one. Raimi transformed straightforward horror into manic horror-comedy. The 2013 reboot pulled the series back into uncompromising terror. Rise expanded the formula beyond the cabin. Burn may have perfected this darker interpretation of the Deadites.

Rather than asking the next filmmaker to make them even crueler, the better challenge would be to rediscover the gleefully anarchic spirit that once surrounded them. The Deadites don't need to change: Evil Dead Burn proves they're still funny, still terrifying, and still capable of stealing every scene they're in. What's missing isn't the monsters, it's the feeling that the movie they're trapped inside has gone just as wonderfully insane as they have.

Release Date July 10, 2026

Runtime 120 Minutes

Director Sébastien Vanicek

Writers Florent Bernard, Sébastien Vanicek, Sam Raimi

Producers Robert Tapert, Sam Raimi