Malignant

James Wan spending studio money on something completely deranged, and the third act is one of the great swerves.

Madison, in an abusive marriage, begins having visions of murders as they happen. She has an imaginary childhood friend called Gabriel.

For an hour it is a competent, glossy, slightly stiff supernatural thriller with dialogue that is off in a way you cannot place. That is deliberate and it is a setup.

Then the reveal arrives and the film becomes something else entirely: a giallo pastiche crossed with a body horror premise, executed with a level of commitment that turns the whole thing retroactively into a comedy about what Wan was allowed to make.

The police station sequence is a legitimately astonishing piece of action direction.

It flopped and then found an audience who understood the assignment. Watch it with people and do not warn them.