Malum (2023)

“More Budget, Less Scares”

Let’s start by showing y’all the trailers, shall we?

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Non-Spoiler Plot Overview

Malum is the 2023 remake of Last Shift, both directed by Anthony DiBlasi. The idea sounds promising on paper: revisit the small, effective cult-horror gem and give it a bigger budget, new cast, and expanded lore. But here’s the problem — what made Last Shift work wasn’t a big budget or sprawling mythology. It was its stripped-down atmosphere, its suffocating single-location tension, and its smart use of minimalism.

By reimagining it with more money, longer runtime, and “modern horror” tropes, Malum manages to lose nearly everything that made the original terrifying. It’s louder, longer, flashier, and somehow emptier.


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Character Rundown

Officer Jessica Loren (Jessica Sula): The rookie cop on her first night shift at a decommissioned station, stepping into her late father’s shadow. Unlike Juliana Harkavy in Last Shift, Sula is stuck with endless exposition dumps and clunky dialogue. She never feels as grounded or relatable.

John Michael Paymon (Chaney Morrow): The cult leader, reimagined with more screen time. In Last Shift, he was a whispering nightmare whose presence infected every corner. Here, he struts around too much — turning mystery into melodrama.

Cult Members: More elaborate makeup, more screentime, less scare factor. They go from terrifying apparitions in Last Shift to rubbery monsters who look like they wandered off a haunted house attraction.

Supporting cops and family figures: Added to pad the runtime, but their arcs go nowhere. The partner who connected to her father is included, but his reveal isn’t chilling this time — it’s telegraphed and undercut.



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Pacing / Episode Flow

The pacing drags where it should suffocate. Last Shift was lean — a 90-minute exercise in rising tension. Malum adds unnecessary subplots, extra characters, and multiple locations. Instead of tightening the screws, it loosens them.

Moments that should simmer (the homeless man, the bullet hole reveal) are rushed or buried under noisy editing. Instead of spiraling into a nightmare, the film lurches from scare to scare, like a checklist.


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Pros

Jessica Sula does her best.

Some prosthetics and gore look good in still frames.

A few echoes of the original station’s creep factor linger, but not enough.



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Cons

Budget kills atmosphere. Bigger sets, flashier effects, and wider scope strip away the suffocating one-room terror that Last Shift thrived on.

Lore overload. Instead of suggestion, the film drowns you in explanations and cult mythology. Horror explained is horror defanged.

Too many locations. Expanding beyond the police station ruins the claustrophobia. The horror loses focus and feels diluted.

Neutered scares. What was unsettling in Last Shift is turned into overproduced jump scares. The fear becomes predictable.

The ending. Jessica is dragged to a throne of twisted metal, hailed as a cult “queen.” Is she possessed? Symbolic? The movie doesn’t care. It just ends in a confusing, music-video-style image that feels meaningless.

Message muddled. Last Shift told a clean story of trauma and family legacy. Malum loses its emotional thread in the noise.



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Final Thoughts

Sometimes less is more. Last Shift was terrifying because it had no choice but to work within its limitations. Malum, given more resources, drowns itself in excess. Instead of a lean cult nightmare, we get a bloated remake that tries to “fix” what was never broken.


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Rating

4/10


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Spoiler Warning

From here on out, spoilers ahead.


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Spoilers

Jessica Loren takes her post at the station, the same cursed place tied to the Paymon cult. Instead of letting silence and shadows carry the dread, the movie bombards us with constant visions and loud scares.

The homeless man sequence — unforgettable in Last Shift when his eyes bulged grotesquely — is repeated here, but the staging kills it. The shock is buried under sloppy editing and too much gore, robbing it of the surreal punch.

The cop partner twist — once a brilliant “oh no” moment when we saw the bullet hole in the back of his head — is flattened here. It’s too obvious, too telegraphed. The uncanny realism of Last Shift’s ghosts is replaced with clunky makeup.

And then there’s the finale. Jessica is captured, pulled into a ritual chamber, and crowned on a throne of metal while cultists chant. What does it mean? Possession? Ascension? Symbolism? The movie doesn’t bother clarifying. It ends on an image that feels hollow and silly, not chilling.

By trying to expand the story, Malum destroys its sharp edges. What was once terrifying in Last Shift becomes cartoonish here.


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Why Last Shift Works, and Malum Fails

Last Shift (2014):

One location: the abandoned police station.

Minimal budget, maximum atmosphere.

Focus on psychological tension.

Subtlety in the cult lore — the less you know, the scarier it is.

A devastating, bleak ending that lingers.


Malum (2023):

Multiple locations dilute the horror.

Bigger budget = overlit sets, noisy CGI, and hollow scares.

Exposition-heavy lore dumps ruin the mystery.

Clunky attempts at symbolism (that metal throne) confuse rather than terrify.

Ending feels like a music video instead of a gut punch.


The lesson? Last Shift proves that fear thrives in silence and simplicity. Malum is proof that more money and more “stuff” doesn’t equal better horror.