Insert other back puns here. Look, I'm going to spoil Malignant. I would love to write about it without yielding to the ruddy, lethiferous elephant in the room, but that would only result in an angry tusker flinging a power chair through the fourth dimension. And that...doesn't make sense. Booyah! Malignant doesn't make a lot of sense. I don't have time right now to deliver a proper review, but I did feel compelled to jot down a couple of musings.
The obvious point of reference is Basket Case. I've seen so many fans call the film's villain a conjoined twin. No, no, no. Doctors explain that "Gabriel" is a teratoma, a cancerous tumor. How this growth drinks electricity and throws his voice to FM speakers is anyone's best guess. By the way, I didn't realize that it was commonplace for families to listen to FM radio. Then again, I wasn't checking out Malignant for a sense of realism.
It's incredible that this Grindhouse-with-a-budget reel made it to theaters at all. Don't take a viscous curveball for granted. Malignant is troubled, but it feels fresh in a landscape choking on its own riskless, generic self. I don't think it was produced as a prank; rather, I think James Wan attempted to craft a mindless monster flick in the same vein as Basket Case or Castle Freak. Eh, I wish I could type more on Wan's resume. Maybe in the future? Let's do lunch?
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