Malignant

Australian auteur James Wan is best known for his franchise-spawning horror films such as Saw, Insidious, and The Conjuring.

However, his latest directorial effort lacks the same potential to perpetuate. Malignant wraps stale genre tropes into a slick and stylish package while struggling to maintain a layer of psychological terror beneath the surface scares.

The story is set in Seattle, where Madison (Annabelle Wallis) is pregnant while stuck in a relationship to an abusive husband (Jake Abel). One physical attack causes a miscarriage, while leading indirectly to his meeting a violent end.

When she returns home from the hospital to start over, Madison begins experiencing nightmares involving gruesome murders at the hands of a malevolent creature that she features might target her next.

Yet the killings turn out to be authentic, prompting a visit from homicide detectives who dismiss Madison’s claims, outright wondering if she’s actually the perpetrator. Curiously, the murderer goes by Gabriel, which happens to be the same name as an imaginary friend Madison cherished as a child. Is it a coincidence?

Meanwhile, a series of abandoned underground tunnels makes a cool and creepy visual backdrop. And from the second it’s nonchalantly introduced, you know it will play an integral role later.

As her behavior turns more erratic, Madison’s sanity is called into question, and it becomes increasingly apparent that she will need to confront her real past to exorcise her imaginary demons.

Wallis (“Peaky Blinders”) initially earns our rooting interest as the resilient heroine navigating supernatural forces, residual guilt and grief, and her own paranoia. However, as the film eventually reveals the source and meaning of Madison’s disturbing visions — as well as the identity and motive for her tormenter — it lacks sufficient incentive for deeper emotional investment.

After an opening sequence that feels like a parody and signals a self-aware detachment from reality, Akela Cooper’s screenplay takes itself too seriously. Then there’s the deliriously unhinged mayhem in the final act, which at least lifts the energy level, even if it turns laughably incoherent.

Unsettling rather than spine-chilling, Malignant does, ahem, conjure a handful of decent frights, even if they mostly feel like variations on the same trickery Wan has been pulling for years.

Rated R, 111 minutes.