Malum Review: A Nightmare Reworking of Familiar Fears

Anthony DiBlasi’s 2023 film Malum tells a harrowing tale that unfolds over rookie police officer Jessica Loren’s first night shift alone at a soon-to-be closed-down police station. Nine years after his chilling film Last Shift covered similar ground, DiBlasi revisits the story with this remake. Malum thrusts Jessica into a nightmare as strange happenings and unexplainable visions plague her shift.

On the one-year anniversary of her father’s tragic death, Jessica volunteers for the final shift at the old Lanford police station, hoping to find answers. As her night progresses, Jessica’s reality begins to blur. Terrifying phone calls and uninvited intruders disrupt her shift, while flashbacks reveal new information about her father and his fateful encounter with the sinister cult known as The Flock of the Low God. Strange sights and unearthly presences haunt the empty hallways, but is there a rational explanation or has an unseen evil penetrated the walls of the station?

With this remake, DiBlasi heightens the atmosphere and intensity for a new viewing audience. This review aims to provide a comprehensive exploration of Malum’s mysteries, examining key themes, characters, and the film’s unsettling ambiguities. Special attention will be paid to analyzing changes from the original and how this new vision brings the story chillingly to life once more for modern audiences.

Night of Terror at Lanford Station

Jessica Loren begins a solitary night watch at the old, soon-to-be decommissioned Lanford police station. She volunteered for the shift, hoping to learn more about the mysterious events from a year ago, when her father, Will, was hailed as a hero for rescuing women from a murderous cult. But Will suddenly snapped, killing colleagues before taking his own life, and Jessica still seeks answers.

Her first night doesn’t go as planned. Strange phone calls warn of threats against “pigs,” and an enraged homeless man bursts in shouting at his murdered daughter. Odder still, someone chains a large pig painted with occult symbols outside. As the night wears on, the station takes on a hellish feel. Flickering lights cast shifting shadows, and faint singing seems to rise from the walls.

In her father’s abandoned office, Jessica finds disturbing footage on a memory stick. It shows cult leader John Malum terrifying his victims and interrogations where Malum seems to exert a sinister influence. The cult blamed Will for a woman’s death, driving him mad. Then Jessica has visions of cloaked figures and a severed face. She’s unsure if these are real or in her head.

Calls for help go unanswered as chaos engulfs the town. Now Jessica wonders if cultists have invaded the station, hunting her as their intended prey. With nowhere left to turn, she starts to believe uncanny forces have put her in this place on this date for sinister purposes. As the visions grow ever more gruesome and nightmarish shapes appear, Jessica must face her destiny, and the night of terror at Lanford station will at last reveal its grim secrets.

Connected Stories, Diverging Paths

While Malum and Last Shift share the same fundamental premise and events, director Anthony DiBlasi takes his new vision in interesting directions. Both center around Jessica, a rookie officer grappling with family tragedy during a solitary shift. Yet small tweaks create meaningfully different experiences.

Where Last Shift’s Jessica was white, Malum casts her as a woman of color. This adds resonance, considering ongoing debates around race and law enforcement. Her struggle to find purpose in her father’s legacy parallels modern efforts to reform broken systems and understand tragic mistakes. The expanded police station setting also reflects increased scrutiny of such institutions.

Tone and tension vary between the films. Last Shift drifted in moody stillness, crafting unease through suggestion. Malum explodes with vivid scares and gore in its climactic minutes. This amplifies the hysteria of Jessica’s harrowing night. However, some identical scenes feel borrowed rather than reimagined.

Debating whether a remake is truly needed overlooks the artistic journey. Nearly a decade separated these works. DiBlasi evolved as a storyteller, technological abilities advanced, and societal lenses shifted. Remaking allowed refining a personal myth for changed times. Both films live as two paths a starting point took, one lingering in shadows while the other unleashes hell.

Overall, Malum packs its atmosphere with renewed vigor. But it seems best appreciated alongside—not replacing—its haunting predecessor. Their balanced blend offers repeated chills and insight into an artist’s thoughtful process of revisiting old ground with fresh eyes. Some seeds may bear multiple fruits.

Inherited Burdens

Jessica Loren faces a challenging night on duty, grappling with personal demons that are nothing new to her family. Her father, Will, met a tragic end as a police officer, and his actions still haunt those left behind as they search for answers. Wounded by Will’s mental breakdown and the ruptured bonds it caused, Jessica volunteers for a solitary shift at the abandoned station where it all occurred.

She hopes this will provide closure and reassurance that Will’s deterioration was an isolated incident. Instead, Jessica discovers unsettling truths that implicate others and implicate deeper issues within the institution her father served. Disturbing videos and interrogation records shed new light on the disturbing crimes he aimed to prevent. They also expose the prejudices he navigated as a man of color on the force.

As the night wears on, Jessica struggles with visions both supernatural and psychologically fueled. Her unstable home life left scars, and the station walls hold more than dust and memories of past wrongs. Whatever the source of the terrors she faces, Jessica comes to represent the burden borne by those on the frontlines of violence. Her conflicts mirror society’s changing views of policing in a racially charged climate.

Director Anthony DiBlasi layers personal trauma atop broader themes to create an create an unsettling effect. The reimagined setting and characters ensure this remake transcends being derivative. Like Jessica, viewers must weigh reality versus deception and consider the cyclical nature of harm. In a landscape of ambiguity, one truth is clear: the sins of the father often distort the child’s path indefinitely, and fixing damaged institutions requires more than replacing wood and wire. It demands that we address the roots of injustice and learn from history’s horrors so they end where we stand.

Captivated by Chaos: The Technical Triumphs of Malum

This remake took full advantage of increased resources, transporting viewers deeper into a nightmarish vision. Director Anthony DiBlasi wields his larger canvas masterfully, sustaining a pervasive sense of dread.

The decommissioned police station has never felt more like a decaying limbo between worlds. Cinematographer Sean McDaniel bathes scuffed walls in unnatural hues, blurring the lines between reality and occult permeation. Subtle shifts in lighting sow paranoia, preparing the mind for jumps both genuine and psychological. Spacious yet claustrophobic, its geometries confound lonely pursuit as much as armed invasion.

As Jessica descends the rabbit hole, DiBlasi crafts sequences that burrow under your skin. Her cellblock confrontation plays like survival horror, the torch crackling with each erratic swing. Visual flourishes there, like a bloodstain mapping invisible violence, leave an impression. His climactic revels even honor Giallo’s flair, framing frenzied carnage within the lurid.

Aided by practical FX studio RussellFX, monsters emerge all the more unshakable for being glimpsed alongside the human depravity fueling them. The towering idol elicits primordial fear through suggestion alone before unleashing malediction in its full daemonic majesty.

Leading lady Jessica Sula invests her plagued protagonist with empathy, grounding escalating panic in an earnest longing for answers. Supporting turns likewise deepen the film’s examination of corruption’s contours. Chaney Morrow, in particular, imbues cult leader Malum with a chilling charisma that holds sway even from beyond.

While some character moments feel cursory, the actors seem energized, seizing DiBlasi’s dark opportunities. Their combined efforts ensure Malum haunts not simply as a competent scarepiece but as a viscerally impactful vision of how chaos finds foothold in our world and within.

Malum Gains Traction on the Festival Circuit

DiBlasi’s latest horror creation made its premiere this past spring at South by Southwest, where its unflinching atmosphere garnered positive attention. Organizers praised its craftsmanship, comparing it favorably to works by established names in modern horror. This set the stage for a regional festival that ran through the late summer and early fall.

The audience reception was strong, with dedicated genre fans packing screenings coast to coast. While a step up from its predecessor’s exposure, Malum still remained relatively undiscovered by the general public. That began to change when acclaimed genre site Dread Central named it their “Sleeper Hit of the Season.” They celebrated its bleak tone and visceral chills, declaring, “DiBlasi is raising the bar for low-budget indie nightmares.”

Buoyed by the mounting buzz, Malum outgrossed Last Shift during its limited theatrical engagement. Its final box office tally came in just under $750K in the US alone. For an independent horror flick, this reflected devoted interest from dedicated fright fans. While far from a blockbuster, it was enough to put distributors on notice that DiBlasi was developing a following within horror circles.

Reviews showed polarized opinions aligned with prior familiarity. Those new to the world of Lanford praised its atmospheric tension and unnerving climax. Yet some felt it failed to live up to its predecessor’s minimalist allure. Most agreed both films achieve their aims through determined world-building and committed leads like Sula. So while opinions differ on which director better achieves the intended scare, DiBlasi again proves himself a director to watch in the genre.

Not all remakes are created equal

Anthony DiBlasi’s decision to revisit his earlier film Last Shift with Malum generated an understandable debate over whether the remake was justified. With mostly identical plots and several matching scenes, many felt Malum didn’t do enough to stand alone. However, others noted advantages like a larger budget, allowing for improved effects and atmosphere. Beyond debates over necessity, what truly matters is how successfully the remake crafts its own identity and experience.

While Malum struggles early on, it finds stronger footing as it branches further from its predecessor. Transplanting the tale to modern issues like policing helps deepen its commentary. More lavish setups add weight and reimagine earlier sparseness. And climactic revelations give the invasions of reality a fresh, unnerving twist, distinguishing Malum as not just a retread but its own intriguing tale.

For DiBlasi, revisiting familiar ground offered a chance to rework early visions. But Malum shows growth, risking new storytelling tricks that keep engagement high throughout. As an experiment in reinterpreting familiar components, it generates thoughtful discussion around what stays the same and how new shadings can evolve in early works. For genre fans, it offers duplications that expand prior chills into renewed scares.

Remakes won’t please everyone, yet DiBlasi proves with skill and experience that returning to old frameworks remains creatively stimulating. With time, reworking prior successes could inspire new directions, whether a re-make alters formulas again or freshens other works. For filmmakers, familiar worlds may seed future frights when approached not as repetition but as refashioning.