From The Office to the Ambulance: Rainn Wilson’s Dark Ride in "Code 3" (2025)

Follows a paramedic that is so burnt-out by the job that he is forcing himself to resign, however, he first must embark on one last 24-hour shift to train his replacement.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lxqKfd-1DvM

Okay, gang, let’s talk about Code 3. And no, it’s not the latest version of your Wi-Fi password or a secret Da Vinci cipher - it’s a new action-comedy about paramedics, starring Rainn Wilson and Lil Rel Howery. The title makes it sound like a tactical SWAT op, but really it’s closer to The Office meets ER - if Jim had been promoted to paramedic and decided to roast every coworker while chain-smoking regret.

The plot? Simple. A burned-out EMT, the kind of guy who probably has “I Hate Mondays” tattooed across his rib cage, is about to quit his job. But before he can slam his resignation letter down like a mic drop, he’s told he has to pull one more 24-hour shift and train his replacement. It’s the classic “one last ride” trope - but instead of Vin Diesel growling about family, we’ve got Rainn Wilson grumbling about chest compressions and insurance paperwork.

Now, here’s the thing: for a comedy, this movie has more dirt under its fingernails than a grave digger on overtime. It’s co-written by an actual paramedic, which explains why the realism hits harder than a defibrillator set to “Max Power.” You watch it and think, “Yup, this guy has definitely seen some stuff.” This isn’t your average Hollywood slapstick ambulance joyride where everyone’s hair is perfect and the IV bags are just props filled with Vitamin Water. Nope. This movie shows the trauma, the exhaustion, and the mental gymnastics required to do the job without turning into a walking bottle of bourbon.

But let’s get to the meat and potatoes - or maybe the meat and fentanyl. What worked for me? First off, the cast. Rainn Wilson is in that sweet spot of being perpetually cranky but weirdly endearing. Lil Rel Howery? Dude’s hilarious even when he’s just standing there blinking. And Rob Riggle, bless his loud, shouty heart, shows up to remind us that you can take the man out of The Daily Show, but you can’t take the drill sergeant voice out of the man. Toss in Aimee Carrero, and you’ve got enough talent to keep the thing rolling even when the script decides to zigzag like an ambulance driver with a broken GPS.

The heart of the movie lies in its authenticity. You can feel that this wasn’t just cooked up in some LA writer’s room over kale smoothies. It was written by someone who’s actually patched up people in alleyways at 3 a.m. That’s why the jokes land - because they’re steeped in the kind of gallows humor only frontline workers really get. It’s the kind of humor where you laugh first and then realize, “Wait, should I feel bad about laughing at that?” The answer, by the way, is always yes.

Now, what didn’t work? Sweet mercy, the swearing. I’m not exactly a choirboy, but this movie throws out so many F-bombs you’d think it was trying to win a Guinness World Record. At one point, I stopped following the dialogue and just started mentally calculating how much money they could have saved if they’d charged themselves a swear jar tax. We’re talking new ambulance money here.

And can we talk about the fourth-wall breaks? At first, they’re cheeky. Fun. A little wink to the audience like, “Hey, you’re in on the joke.” But by the fifth time, I was like, “Buddy, either talk to your trainee or talk to me, but stop acting like Ferris Bueller on a ketamine drip.”

The tone, too, sometimes skids all over the road. One moment, it’s poignant - showing the real toll of the job. Next moment, it’s like a rejected Family Guy gag. Then, suddenly, we’re back to the lead berating every young, hopeful character like he’s auditioning for “Most Cynical Human Alive.” After a while, you don’t feel sympathy - you feel like sliding an application for anger management across the table.

But hey, there’s still something worthwhile here. The film does succeed in showing just how brutal the life of a paramedic can be. The stress, the trauma, the way it rewires your brain until sarcasm is your only coping mechanism. There’s truth in that. But the overarching message - this is who you become, so get used to it - left me colder than a hospital waiting room at 3 a.m.

Fun fact time: Emma Roberts was originally cast in the lead role before being swapped out for Kate Mara in late 2023. Can you imagine? Somewhere out there is a version of Code 3 where Roberts is navigating body fluids and gallows humor, instead of Mara. Hollywood’s version of musical chairs with stethoscopes.

So where does this leave us? Code 3 is a mixed bag. It’s funny, but sometimes tries too hard. It’s authentic, but occasionally loses itself in forced bits. It’s heartfelt, but sometimes that heart is clogged with cynicism and expletives. In other words, it’s kind of like life itself: messy, absurd, and worth watching - at least once.

Ranking: 6.0/10