Remember that feeling when you watched Ready or Not for the first time? The one where your heart raced like you’d just chugged a triple espresso, your palms sweated through the entire hide-and-seek sequence, and by the end, you were cackling maniacally as Grace Le Domas (Samara Weaving) lit a cigarette amid the fiery ruins of her in-laws’ cursed mansion? Yeah, that electric cocktail of terror, dark comedy, and unapologetic gore that turned a $6 million indie flick into a $50 million global phenomenon? Well, buckle up, because Searchlight Pictures just unleashed the first trailer for Ready or Not 2: Here I Come, and it’s not just a sequel—it’s a full-throttle escalation into a world-conquering nightmare that makes the original look like a backyard game of tag.

Dropped like a Molotov cocktail on Wednesday morning via YouTube and social media, the two-minute teaser clocks in at a pulse-pounding 120 seconds of pure chaos, racking up over 12 million views in its first 24 hours and igniting a firestorm of reactions from “FINALLY!” to “Samara Weaving is our scream queen forever” across platforms like X, TikTok, and Reddit. Directed once again by the dynamic duo Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett (the Radio Silence wizards behind Scream reboots and Abigail), penned by the original’s sharp-tongued scribes Guy Busick and R. Christopher Murphy, and slated for a theatrical bloodbath on April 10, 2026, this trailer doesn’t just tease— it taunts. It promises that Grace’s wedding-night survival was merely the tutorial level, and now, the game’s gone global, with stakes that could rewrite the rules of power, privilege, and pretty much everything else.

Let’s break it down frame by blistering frame, because if you’re a fan of the first film (and if you’re not, drop everything and binge it right now—seriously, it’s streaming on Hulu and will prep you perfectly for this madness), this trailer is a love letter laced with razor wire. It opens exactly where we left off: dawn breaking over the smoldering Le Domas estate, Grace—bloodied wedding gown clinging to her like a second skin, mascara-streaked face twisted in exhausted triumph—stumbling down the marble steps, that iconic cigarette dangling from her lips as she mutters, “Ready or not… here I come.” Cut to black. Then, a heartbeat later, the screen explodes into crimson: “Moments after surviving an all-out attack from the Le Domas family, Grace discovers she’s reached the next level of the nightmarish game—and this time with her estranged sister Faith at her side.”

Enter Kathryn Newton as Faith, Grace’s long-lost sibling, a wide-eyed wildcard with a backpack full of secrets and a glare that screams “I brought the snacks… and the switchblade.” The sisters’ reunion is anything but Hallmark—think less “sisters forever” and more “trust issues on steroids,” as Faith drags a reluctant Grace into a shadowy underground bunker pulsing with the kind of opulent dread that only old money can buy. “You think that was the end?” Faith hisses, slamming a leather-bound tome onto a mahogany table etched with occult symbols. “That was checkers, sis. This is chess… and we’re playing for the board.” Cue the first big reveal: the Le Domas “game” wasn’t some isolated family curse—it’s the tip of a global iceberg, a centuries-old ritual controlled by the High Council, a cabal of ultra-wealthy dynasties who use blood sports to decide who pulls the strings on world events. Elections? Rigged. Wars? Wagers. Pandemics? Just another round of high-stakes poker.

From there, the trailer catapults us into a montage of escalating insanity that had me pausing every five seconds to catch my breath (and laugh hysterically at the sheer audacity). Grace and Faith, now unwilling pawns-turned-players, are thrust into “the Hunt”—a sprawling, multi-continental game where four rival families (led by a rogues’ gallery of genre royalty) vie for the High Seat, the throne that grants absolute dominion. We see Grace in a rain-soaked Tokyo alley, dodging crossbow bolts from assassins in tailored kimonos; Faith barricaded in a Parisian catacomb, rigging a homemade flamethrower from vintage champagne bottles; and both sisters sprinting through a neon-drenched Vegas casino, where slot machines double as trap doors and blackjack dealers moonlight as snipers. The gore? Oh, it’s gloriously over-the-top—limbs severed mid-swing, arterial sprays painting priceless Picassos red, and one particularly unhinged kill involving a crystal chandelier and a very unfortunate oligarch’s face that left me equal parts horrified and howling.

But what elevates this from slasher sequel to satirical masterpiece is the humor, that razor-sharp Busick-Murphy wit that skewers the one percent with the precision of a guillotine. Elijah Wood pops up as a twitchy tech-bro heir to one of the families, his Frodo-esque innocence twisted into a meme-worthy line: “It’s not murder if it’s multiplayer!” Sarah Michelle Gellar, channeling her Scream 2 slay-queen energy, slinks through a scene as a Botoxed socialite matriarch, cooing, “Darling, survival isn’t about speed—it’s about who you step on first.” And then there’s David Cronenberg, the godfather of body horror himself, in a cameo that feels like meta gold: a grizzled council elder with veins bulging like exposed wiring, rasping, “The game evolves… or it devours.” Throw in Shawn Hatosy as a sleazy fixer, Néstor Carbonell (Lost‘s Richard Alpert) as a enigmatic gamekeeper, Kevin Durand (X-Men Origins) as a hulking enforcer who looks like he bench-presses Bentleys, and surprise turns from Olivia Cheng, Varun Saranga, and Daniel Beirne, and you’ve got a cast that’s less ensemble and more explosive device.

Samara Weaving, of course, is the beating (and frequently splattered) heart of it all. Seven years after her breakout as the bride from hell, she’s leaner, meaner, and somehow even more magnetic—her Grace now a battle-hardened anti-heroine who quips through carnage like Deadpool with a death wish. In the trailer’s money shot, she’s cornered in a gilded ballroom, surrounded by masked hunters, back-to-back with Faith, a pair of antique revolvers in hand. “Last time I played hide and seek,” she growls, cocking both hammers, “I burned the house down. This time? I’m burning the world.” Fade to the logo—Ready or Not 2: Here I Come—with a tagline that chills and thrills: “The game was never over. It was just getting started.” Chills? Check. Goosebumps? Double check. An immediate need to pre-order tickets for April 10, 2026? Abso-freakin-lutely.

To understand why this trailer has the internet in a collective chokehold, you have to rewind to the original Ready or Not, that 2019 sleeper hit that snuck into theaters like a midnight intruder and refused to leave. Directed by Bettinelli-Olpin and Gillett in their pre-Scream glow-up, it followed Grace, a wide-eyed bride marrying into the Le Domas fortune, only to discover the family’s “tradition”: at midnight on her wedding night, they play a game of hide and seek, and if she survives until dawn… well, let’s just say the board game Backgammon has never been the same. Blending The Most Dangerous Game with You’re Next‘s home-invasion savvy and a healthy dose of class-war satire, it grossed $28 million domestically on a shoestring budget, earned 89% on Rotten Tomatoes, and spawned endless memes (who can forget Adam Brody’s “Fuck!” as his hand explodes?). Weaving’s performance was the secret sauce—vulnerable yet vicious, turning Grace from victim to victor in a gown soaked in symbolic (and literal) blood.

The film’s cult status only grew post-pandemic, fueled by VOD binges and TikTok edits syncing the dawn explosion to everything from breakup anthems to revenge fantasies. Fans clamored for more, but the ending seemed airtight: Grace wins, the family implodes, cue credits. How do you sequel-proof a story that’s all about one perfect night of vengeance? Enter the trailer’s genius pivot: the Le Domas curse as mere entry-level hazing to a larger, more insidious syndicate. As Busick teased in a recent Variety interview, “We always knew the game had layers. Grace beating the Le Domases? That’s like winning the local poker tourney. Now she’s at the World Series… with the Illuminati holding the chips.” Murphy added, “It’s still hide and seek, but globalized—think Squid Game meets The Purge, with more laughs and less moralizing.”

Bettinelli-Olpin and Gillett, fresh off Abigail‘s ballerina-bloodbath (which pulled $41 million worldwide), were the only directors fans trusted to helm this resurrection. “Radio Silence gets it,” raved Bloody Disgusting. “They don’t just amp the body count; they dissect the absurdity of power.” Their visual style shines in the trailer: kinetic Steadicam chases that feel like a fever dream, POV shots from the hunters’ masks that make you the prey, and production design that marries gothic opulence with modern excess—think Versailles if Versailles had tripwires and acid-laced caviar.

The cast additions are a horror nerd’s wet dream, a murderers’ row that screams “event movie.” Kathryn Newton, hot off Abigail and Ant-Man, brings sibling-rivalry fire to Faith, her chemistry with Weaving crackling like a live wire in the trailer’s tense bunker standoff. Elijah Wood, trading Hobbit wholesomeness for high-society sleaze, steals his 15 seconds with a unhinged monologue about “algorithmic apocalypse.” Sarah Michelle Gellar, returning to horror after The Grudge, exudes icy elegance as a council viper, her line “Darling, the throne isn’t won—it’s inherited in pieces” dripping with venom. And Cronenberg? His brief, shadowy appearance as the council’s elder statesman is pure fan service, a nod to the body-horror roots that Ready or Not subtly echoed with its explosive demises.

But let’s talk Weaving, because if the original made her a star, this sequel cements her as a scream queen for the ages. “Putting that dress back on was emotional,” she told Deadline during filming. “Grace isn’t the same girl who said ‘I do’ in terror. She’s a force now—scarred, smarter, and ready to flip the board.” The trailer showcases her range: a quiet, vulnerable moment cradling Faith after a brutal kill, exploding into feral rage as she dispatches a hunter with a stiletto heel. It’s Weaving at her peak—fierce, funny, and fearlessly unhinged—proving why she’s the perfect vessel for this franchise’s feminist fury.

The trailer’s reception? Volcanic. On X, #ReadyOrNot2 trended globally within hours, with 2.3 million mentions by midday. “This trailer just cured my post-holiday blues—Grace vs. the 1%? Take my money NOW,” tweeted one fan, attaching a reaction video of themselves shrieking at the chandelier kill. Reddit’s r/horror lit up with threads dissecting Easter eggs: a Le Domas board game cameo in the bunker, a Scream nod in Gellar’s wardrobe, even a subtle Videodrome reference in Cronenberg’s throbbing-vein close-up. Critics are already buzzing—Polygon called it “the impossible sequel that feels inevitable”, praising how it expands the satire without diluting the scares. “In a year of reboots, this is resurrection done right,” gushed ScreenGeek.

Of course, not everyone’s convinced. Purists on forums like Letterboxd gripe that globalizing the game “dilutes the intimate horror,” but trailer architect Tripp Vinson (producer on the original) clapped back in a IndieWire Q&A: “Intimacy was act one. This is the empire strikes back—bigger, bloodier, and twice as biting.” With a reported $25 million budget (double the original’s), high-profile producers like James Vanderbilt (Scream) and William Sherak (Smile), and Searchlight’s marketing muscle, expectations are stratospheric. Early test screenings reportedly scored 92% audience approval, with one anonymous viewer leaking to The Hollywood Reporter: “It’s Ready or Not on steroids—laughs harder, hurts deeper, and ends with a twist that’ll have you googling ‘High Council real?’ at 3 a.m.”

As April 10, 2026, looms like a guillotine blade, the trailer serves as a siren call: this isn’t just horror; it’s a revolution in red. In a world where the rich get richer and the rest of us hide from headlines, Ready or Not 2 weaponizes that rage into something cathartic, comedic, and catastrophically fun. Grace isn’t just surviving anymore—she’s conquering. And after that trailer? We’re all ready to play along.

So mark your calendars, stock up on fake blood (or real popcorn), and prepare to scream. Because when Grace says “here I come,” she means it. And this time, the whole world’s her playground.