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About Malum
Malum tracks the unsettling journey of Jessica Loren (Jessica Sula), a rookie cop about to start her first solo shift. What should be a quiet night stationed in a soon-to-be-demolished police station quickly spirals into chaos. The looming shadow of her father, Will Loren (Eric Olson), hangs over her—he had infamously gone on a killing spree in that very building a year prior, ending in his own grisly death.
On that same fateful night, a cult obsessed with a mysterious entity known as "The Low God" was apprehended for performing brutal, ritualistic murders. Now, Jessica has returned, hoping to uncover the truth behind her father’s tragic descent into madness. As the hours tick by, she experiences an onslaught of strange, spine-chilling events. The more Jessica digs, the more it seems like she’s destined to repeat her father’s dark fate.
Malum vs The Last Shift
In 2014, writer-director Anthony DiBlasi delivered Last Shift, a low-budget horror flick with an eerily similar premise. Now, DiBlasi steps back into the same haunted police station with Malum, joining an elite club of filmmakers (think Hitchcock, Demille, and Capra) who’ve dared to remake their own work. So, what sets *Malum* apart from its predecessor?
At first glance, Malum feels like a high-octane version of Last Shift. The bones of the story are nearly identical—lone female cop, deserted police station, mounting terror. But this time, DiBlasi had a bigger budget and more directorial experience under his belt, which translates into a slicker, scarier, and more confident film.
Where Last Shift flirted with ambiguity—leaving audiences to question whether the horror was all in the protagonist's head—Malum takes a sledgehammer to that subtlety. From the first frame, it’s clear this isn’t just psychological horror; we’re diving headfirst into cult craziness. The atmosphere is drenched in dread, and it’s not shy about showing its cards. The opening scene alone sets the tone, making it crystal clear that Jessica isn’t just losing her mind—she’s up against something far more sinister.
That being said, what Malum sacrifices in mystery, it more than makes up for with visceral scares. Even scenes lifted directly from Last Shift—like a harrowing flashlight moment in a holding cell—feel sharper, more terrifying, thanks to DiBlasi’s polished direction and clearer visuals. The horror is front and center, and it doesn’t pull any punches. It’s bloodier, creepier, and far more intense.
Another noticeable shift is the film's engagement with contemporary attitudes towards law enforcement. In 2014, when Last Shift was released, it was rare to see overt critiques of police culture in mainstream horror. But in Malum, you get hints of those tensions through subtle dialogue and the protagonist's increasing isolation. It’s a small but impactful update that adds a layer of social relevance to the film.
As a standalone movie, Malum offers a solid dose of terror, packed with eerie twists and enough blood-soaked horror to keep genre fans happy. As a remake of Last Shift, it’s an even more fascinating beast—a case study in how a filmmaker’s vision evolves over time. DiBlasi’s redo is bolder, bloodier, and arguably better, making Malum the superior pick if you’re only watching one version.
Have you seen both of these films?
Which version do you prefer: Malum or Last Shift? Let us know in the comments!
