Evil Dead Burn Movie Review by Brian Cochran
For those who have done the whole online dating thing, you will know exactly what I’m speaking of. You match with someone you’re genuinely interested in. Their profile and pictures excite you. You message them, and the initial conversation is intoxicating. Then you finally meet up in person and realize there is absolutely no click. The conversation is bone-dry. All that mounting interest you had fails to translate to reality, leaving you feeling completely empty.
That is exactly what watching Evil Dead Burn feels like.
Leading up to its release, director Sebastian Vaniček said all the right things. The trailers teased a beautiful display of carnage candy, which is per the norm for this franchise. We were promised the meanest, most depraved entry yet. But when the credits roll, you are left entirely empty.
For decades, the Evil Dead franchise has enjoyed one of the most immaculate streaks in horror history. From Sam Raimi’s manic original trilogy to Fede Álvarez’s relentless 2013 reimagining and Lee Cronin’s claustrophobic Evil Dead Rise, every single entry has delivered the goods. On paper, Vaniček—hand-picked by Raimi after his stellar work on the creature-feature Infested—seemed like the perfect match to push the envelope.
Don’t get me wrong: I didn’t hate this movie. It is perfectly serviceable for a Friday night horror fix, and as a massive fan of the universe, it’s always nice to see something new from the lore. However, it truly feels like a mid-2000s, direct-to-DVD Hellraiser sequel. It boasts some cool concepts, but it entirely lacks the cinematic weight worthy of a theatrical release.
The narrative does deserve credit for introducing a freshness the franchise desperately needs. Rather than retreading the worn-out path of a random, isolated possession film, Burn pivots to a compelling new hook: this time, the deadites are actively looking for something. It’s an exciting expansion of the mythos, and the movie further rewards hardcore fans by bringing back Jessica and Ellie from Evil Dead Rise—a fantastic tether to the broader universe that was genuinely great to see on screen.
Unfortunately, the screenplay fumbles its deeper thematic ambitions. The overarching backstory tackles the heavy subject of abuse, a choice that should have added profound psychological weight. The issue is that the film simply doesn’t trust its audience. The abuse is completely evident right from the club scene in the first act; it’s right there, present and palpable in the characters’ initial interactions. Yet, the movie insists on peppering unnecessary flashbacks throughout the runtime, dragging the pacing to a crawl in a desperate attempt to manufacture an “oh my God” reveal that the audience already figured out an hour prior.
This heavy-handedness extends directly to the character writing. Evil Dead has always thrived on strong anchoring personalities. Whether it’s Ash’s unhinged bravado, Mia’s grueling battle against addiction in 2013, or Beth’s fierce maternal instincts in Rise, we have always had compelling figures to root for. Burn suffers greatly in the writing department here, saddling us with an entirely unlikable family lacking any distinct, redeeming traits. When you don’t care about the characters, suspense completely evaporates.
Visually, the film is an aesthetic disaster. The overall grey color tone of the movie is flat-out ugly, blanketed by a heavy digital coat that gives the deadites a muddy, video-gamey appearance rather than relying on the franchise’s signature gritty, tactile practical effects.
This visual inconsistency extends to the cinematography, which is a massive hit-or-miss bag. At times, Vaniček showcases real promise; the film’s opening sequence injects a burst of intensity with exciting, kinetic camera movements that get the adrenaline pumping. Yet, once the story confines itself to the house, the camerawork becomes amateurish. It turns so hyperactive and disjointed during chase sequences that you completely lose track of the physical geography.
Furthermore, despite being promoted as an incredibly mean and depraved ride, Burn never actually feels mean. It certainly aims for shock value with its wild gore, but it lacks a sinister edge. This absence of genuine bite results in a movie entirely devoid of a standout, landmark scene. Rise gave us the agonizing cheese grater; 2013 gave us the box-cutter. Burn tries desperately to manufacture its own version with a grotesque dish-washing scene, but because the film lacks structural momentum, it feels like a calculated checklist item rather than an organic escalation of terror.
Ultimately, Evil Dead Burn proves that a successful entry requires far more than loud noises and aggressive gore. While its unique deadite concept and legacy cameos keep it entirely watchable, its ugly grey palette, weak characters, and clunky storytelling relegate it to the bottom of the franchise hierarchy.
Rating: 5.5 / 10
