'Evil Dead Burn's Scariest Scene Is More Disturbing Than The Violence
If you've seen the reviews for Evil Dead Burn (2026), they're attached to words like "brutal" and "violent." Both of these are true, but it's also an Evil Dead movie, so are you really surprised? Perhaps what's more shocking than any of the over-the-top violence in Evil Dead Burn is a quieter moment—one that takes place between Susan (Tandi Wright) and her now-Deadite husband Edgar (Erroll Shand).
Deadite Edgar spends a good chunk of the film's 110-minute runtime keeping guard outside the house. However, when he does decide to enter, he does so via the ultimate manipulation: an intense kiss. Here's what makes Evil Dead Burn's kissing scene so disturbing, and how it emphasizes the deeper message beneath the Deadite massacre.
'Evil Dead Burn's Deadite Kiss Is The Most Disturbing In The Franchise
Trigger Warning: This entry discusses sexual consent.
There have been a couple of Deadite kisses in the Evil Dead franchise, and each of them results in the receiver transforming into a Deadite. Evil Ash (Bruce Campbell) forcibly kisses Sheila (Embeth Davidtz) in Army of Darkness (1992), while Mia (Jane Levy) also forcibly kisses Natalie (Elizabeth Blackmore) in Evil Dead (2013) after mutilating her tongue with a knife. Both scenes are disturbing in their own ways, even excluding the lack of consent. Still, Evil Dead Burn one-ups them.
What makes Susan and Edgar's kiss so unique is the consent factor. Sure, the Evil may be manipulating Susan to an extent. However, Susan largely kisses Edgar of her own free will—and kiss they do. In other circumstances, this would've been one heck of a makeout, but, of course, all the blood and Edgar's mutilated face never let us forget that this is an Evil Dead movie. Afterward, Susan even remarks, "You haven't kissed me like that in years," with astonishment coating the statement.
The fact that Susan walked away from her bloody Deadite kiss with weak knees is disturbing and icky all at once. Yet, it's also incredibly sad and helps hammer home Evil Dead Burn's bigger message about grief—and, perhaps, even abuse.
Susan's Grief Is On Full Display In 'Evil Dead Burn'
Evil Dead Burn's entire plot surrounds the death of Will (George Pullar). It kickstarts the Evil's hunt for the Kandarian Dagger, but Will's family is struggling with their dysfunction long before the Deadites show up at the front door. As Will's mother, Susan is obviously grief-stricken by the loss of her son, and she's willing to overlook the flaws he had in life to preserve his memory as she wants to remember it.
That's why Alice (Souheila Yacoub), Will's wife, becomes disposable to her, and she ignores the obvious domestic abuse her son committed in his marriage. In fact, she's coddled both her sons to the point that their respective relationships with women are both dysfunctional, just in very different ways. From that perspective, Susan is a destructive idealist who just wants her family back together, no matter what the cost. She's not only grieving the death of her son, but also what her life and family should've looked like. (Remember, she also tells Alice that she put away her own dreams to care for her aging mother.)
It's why the Deadites can so easily manipulate Susan. Missing the person her mother was pre-dementia, Susan hugs her clearly possessed mother, just like she quickly kisses her husband, who, based on her "You haven't kissed me like that in years" line, seems to have grown emotionally distant in their long marriage.
In that sense, Susan is the focal point of grief, with most of the characters' actions connecting back to her, even if we don't see every detail on screen. When Edgar's Deadite comes knocking, Susan is grieving the loss of her son, the loss of her mother's mind, the connection she once had with her husband, and, arguably, the way both her sons were "taken" by her from other women. The circumstances make it easy for her to open the window and invite Evil into her home under the pretense that it will fix things.
Similar to the messages in iconic stories like Pet Sematary (1989) or The Monkey's Paw, the answer to grief—in all its different forms—isn't just resurrecting what something once was. It's about learning to adjust to a different world, where the people and relationships you once had look different.
