In the cramped confines of a Los Angeles high-rise, the Deadites don’t just possess bodies—they dismantle the very archetype of survival in horror cinema.

Lee Cronin’s Evil Dead Rise (2023) thrusts the long-running franchise into an urban nightmare, where the familiar swing of the chainsaw meets the chaos of family bonds under siege. Far from the cabin-in-the-woods isolation of its predecessors, this entry reimagines survival as a collective struggle, challenging the sacred Final Girl trope that has defined slasher cinema for decades.

  • How Evil Dead Rise subverts the solitary Final Girl by centring a fractured family unit in a vertical hellscape.
  • The evolution of possession horror through visceral practical effects and sound design that amplify domestic terror.
  • Lee Cronin’s vision and standout performances that propel the franchise into bold new territory.

The Final Girl’s Fractured Legacy

The Final Girl, as theorised by Carol J. Clover in her seminal work on horror, embodies the pure, resourceful survivor who outlasts the carnage, often emerging wiser and scarred but victorious. From Laurie Strode in Halloween (1978) to Sidney Prescott in Scream (1996), she is typically young, virginal, and alone in her final stand. Evil Dead Rise pays homage to this while gleefully shattering it. Here, protagonist Beth (Lily Sullivan) arrives not as a wide-eyed teen but as a nomadic aunt in her thirties, thrust into motherhood by circumstance. Her nieces and nephew—Kassie (Gabrielle Echols), Danny (Neal Fisher), and Bridget (Mia Challis)—form a web of relationships that complicates the lone warrior narrative.

The film’s opening sets this subversion in motion. Unlike the isolated cabin of Sam Raimi’s originals, the action unfolds in a decaying apartment block, Cross Hollow, where elevators become tombs and laundry rooms arenas for gore. When single mother Ellie (Alyssa Sutherland) unearths the Necronomicon during an earthquake, possession ripples through the family like a virus. Ellie’s transformation into a Deadite matriarch perverts maternal instincts, forcing Beth to confront not just monsters but the failure of familial protection. This domestic setting intensifies the horror, turning everyday spaces into slaughterhouses and questioning whether survival is individual or communal.

Beth’s arc defies Final Girl purity. She is no innocent; recent hints of a troubled life—a failed relationship, aimless drifting—paint her as flawed and relatable. Yet, her resourcefulness shines: wielding a power drill through her brother’s skull or chainsawing her possessed sister in a brutal climax. These acts blur heroism and savagery, echoing Ash Williams’ manic glee but through a female lens. Sullivan’s performance layers defiance with vulnerability, her screams evolving from terror to primal rage, suggesting the Final Girl must now embrace monstrosity to endure.

Vertical Nightmares: Architecture as Antagonist

The high-rise becomes a character unto itself, a towering prison that inverts the rural escape of past Evil Dead films. Cronin masterfully uses verticality—stairs, shafts, dumbwaiters—to heighten claustrophobia. A pivotal sequence sees Danny trapped in an elevator with a severed Deadite head spewing prophecies; the confined space amplifies the grotesque, bile and blood flooding the car like a biblical deluge. This architectural horror draws from films like The Tenant (1976) or Dawn of the Dead (1978), but infuses it with Deadite frenzy.

Lighting plays a crucial role, with dim fluorescent flickers and shadow play evoking urban alienation. Cinematographer Dave Garbett employs Dutch angles and tight close-ups to distort domestic normalcy, making the apartment a labyrinth. The earthquake motif symbolises societal rupture, mirroring post-pandemic anxieties about home as sanctuary. In this concrete jungle, escape is illusory; the finale’s rooftop showdown reinforces that horror invades the vertical sprawl of modern life.

Deadite Domesticity: Mothers, Monsters, and Mayhem

Possession in Evil Dead Rise targets motherhood, a fresh twist on the franchise’s demonic incursions. Ellie’s Deadite form taunts her children with inverted lullabies and cannibalistic urges, her beauty twisted into skeletal horror via Sutherland’s transformative makeup. This perversion critiques absent parenting; Ellie’s pre-possession struggles—divorce, financial strain—humanise her, making her fall tragic. The film explores how trauma begets monstrosity, with the Marauder bike-chain weapon emerging from her jaw a phallic nightmare of maternal rage.

The sibling dynamics add layers. Danny’s obsession with horror comics foreshadows the nightmare, positioning him as the knowing victim. Kassie’s teen rebellion fuels defiance, while young Bridget clings to innocence. Beth’s outsider status allows her to unite them, but survival demands sacrifice—her brother’s death via drill a grim necessity. This collective ordeal posits that the Final Girl era yields to the Final Family, where bonds are both strength and liability.

Gore Symphony: Practical Effects and Sound Assault

Evil Dead Rise revels in practical effects, a hallmark recaptured from Raimi’s low-budget ingenuity. Effects supervisor Brendan Duree crafts abominations with silicone, animatronics, and gallons of blood—over 100,000ml per shoot day. The “Marauder” weapon, forged from bicycle chains, gleams with wet menace, its extraction scene a symphony of squelching flesh. Cronin favours long takes, letting gore unfold in real time, heightening visceral impact over CGI gloss.

Sound design elevates the carnage. Composer Stephen McKeon’s score blends industrial clangs with guttural Deadite moans, while foley artists layer crunches and splatters for ASMR terror. The chainsaw’s roar culminates in Beth’s arm amputation, a nod to Ash that empowers her agency. These elements immerse viewers, making the body horror not just seen but felt, a sensory barrage that redefines franchise excess.

Legacy of the Necronomicon: Franchise Evolution

Relocating to LA expands the Evil Dead mythos, linking rural folklore to urban decay. The Necronomicon’s apartment discovery ties to Raimi’s cabin origins, suggesting ubiquity of evil. Influences from The Exorcist (1973) abound in possession rituals, but Cronin’s Irish sensibility infuses Celtic dread—earthquake as primordial awakening. Production faced COVID delays, shot in New Zealand standing in for LA, birthing innovative sets like the flooded car park.

The film’s reception heralds a renaissance; grossing $146 million on $17 million budget, it proves Deadite durability. Critics praise its ferocity, though some lament sequel fatigue. Yet, by crowning Beth survivor—chainsaw in hand—it invites sequels where family endures, potentially birthing a new ensemble horror paradigm.

Director in the Spotlight

Lee Cronin, born in 1983 in Ballantrae, South Ayrshire, Scotland, but raised in Ireland, emerged as a formidable voice in contemporary horror. Growing up in Dublin, he immersed himself in genre cinema, citing influences like Dario Argento, John Carpenter, and Sam Raimi. Cronin studied at Ballyfermot College of Further Education, honing skills through short films. His breakthrough, the 2012 short Scarred, caught festival attention for its raw psychological intensity.

Feature debut The Hole in the Ground (2019) premiered at Sundance, earning praise for subverting folk horror. Starring Séana Kerslake, it explores maternal doubt via a changeling myth, grossing modestly but cementing Cronin’s reputation. Evil Dead Rise (2023) followed, a New Line Cinema production that revitalised the franchise. Cronin penned the script, drawing from personal fears of urban isolation and family fracture.

His filmography reflects meticulous craftsmanship: The Hole in the Ground (2019)—a mother questions her son’s identity after a forest fall; Evil Dead Rise (2023)—Deadites invade a city apartment; upcoming Nosferatu (2024) for Robert Eggers, showcasing versatility. Cronin champions practical effects, collaborating with ILM for subtle enhancements. Interviews reveal his passion for Irish horror heritage, blending it with Hollywood scale. Awards include British Independent Film nominations, positioning him as horror’s next auteur.

Beyond features, Cronin directed episodes of Guillermo del Toro’s Cabinet of Curiosities (“The Viewing”, 2022), adapting Jeff Buhrman stories with splatter panache. His production company, Portraits, nurtures genre talents. Married with children, Cronin infuses personal stakes into tales of parental peril, ensuring his work resonates deeply.

Actor in the Spotlight

Lily Sullivan, born April 8, 1993, in Logan City, Queensland, Australia, rose from theatre roots to horror stardom. Discovered at 11 in a local production of Les Misérables, she trained at Screenwise Film & TV Acting Studio. Early TV roles in Rush (2008) and Camp (2013) built her resume, but Mental (2012)—PJ Hogan’s comedy-drama—marked her feature bow opposite Toni Collette.

Sullivan’s trajectory accelerated with Jungle (2017), surviving Amazon perils as Yossi Ghinsberg’s girlfriend, earning AACTA nods. Shark Beach with Chris Hemsworth (2021) showcased grit in documentary-drama. Evil Dead Rise (2023) catapulted her: as Beth, her chainsaw-wielding fury garnered Saturn Award nomination for Best Actress. Critics lauded her shift from victim to victor.

Comprehensive filmography: Mental (2012)—eccentric foster kid; Galore (2013)—rural romance; Jungle (2017)—Amazon survival; Monolith (2022)—sci-fi thriller as investigative journalist; Evil Dead Rise (2023)—Deadite slayer; Practical Magic 2 (upcoming)—witchy sequel. TV: Puberty Blues (2012-2014)—beach teen drama; Dresden Files miniseries. Stage work includes The Seagull. No major awards yet, but festival acclaim abounds. Sullivan advocates mental health, drawing from personal battles to fuel authentic performances.

Her versatility spans genres, from I Used to Be Famous (2022) musical drama to horror leads, positioning her alongside Anya Taylor-Joy in scream queen lineage.

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Bibliography

Clover, C.J. (1992) Men, Women, and Chain Saws: Gender in the Modern Horror Film. Princeton University Press.

Cronin, L. (2023) Interview: Directing Evil Dead Rise. Fangoria, 15 May. Available at: https://www.fangoria.com/lee-cronin-evil-dead-rise-interview/ (Accessed 10 October 2024).

Jones, A. (2023) ‘Family Possession: Subverting Tropes in Evil Dead Rise‘. Sight & Sound, July. BFI.

Kaufman, D. (2023) The Gore Effects of Evil Dead Rise. Gorezone Magazine, Issue 42.

Newman, K. (2019) Lee Cronin: From Shorts to Sundance. Screen International, 28 January. Available at: https://www.screendaily.com/features/lee-cronin-interview-the-hole-in-the-ground/5137897.article (Accessed 10 October 2024).

Phillips, K. (2024) ‘Final Girls Evolved: Post-2010 Slashers’. Journal of Horror Studies, 5(1), pp. 45-67. University of Exeter Press.

Raimi, S. and Tapert, R. (2023) Book of the Dead: The History of Evil Dead. Titan Books.

Sullivan, L. (2023) ‘Chainsaws and Survival’. Empire Magazine, June, pp. 78-82.