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7. Amityville 3D (1983)
Where some remakes from this era have improved with my willingness to give them more of a chance than my twentysomething counterpart ever would, this one is more or less what I remembered: slick, breezy, and mostly forgettable. It’s arguably the best made Amityville film and it appreciably deviates from the original with its own tangents regarding the house’s sordid history, but it hardly amounts to anything. There’s no sense of actual dread or escalation—hell, the house is showing signs of being haunted while the realtor is showing it off to the Lutzes (here played by the astoundingly attractive couple that is Ryan Reynolds and Melissa George).
Like so many remakes, The Amityville Horror is content to mostly go through the motions; despite its deviations and (few) embellishments, you can practically hear the filmmakers muttering under their breath—“you already know how this story goes, so let’s get this shit over already, shall we?” Such an approach wouldn’t be altogether worthless if the film at least provided some gonzo flourishes; instead, it’s a relatively tame, safe take, which is why I’ll side with many of the infamous 90s efforts. At least it felt like just about anything could happen in those.
To that end, it’s hard not to chuckle at Amityville Dollhouse, which finds long-time producer Steve White finally assuming the director’s chair himself. And wouldn’t you know it—after the relatively tame and dull New Generation, this sequel resorts to the kind of batshit stuff this series obviously needs. Tick off the boxes: a ludicrous premise (what, did someone own a dollhouse replica of the Amityville House while, uh, living in the Amityville House?), half-baked domestic drama (this one pits blended family against each other, so it’s like The Brady Bunch Goes to Hell), incestual innuendo (this time with a step-mother and her son), and a zombie dad lurking in a frightened kid’s closet. Wait, what?
Needless to say, when it comes to delivering insanity, Amityville Dollhouse fucking brings it. Despite a low-body count, there’s a sense that just about anything can happen. I mean, when you have a dollhouse that’s capable of transforming pet rats into giant, mutated versions of themselves, all bets are off. With the exception of a badass, motorcycle-riding, occult-studying husband-aunt duo, everyone here absolutely sucks—each kid either whiny or a complete douchebag with awful hair and even worse fashion sense (the middle child—the nerdy son with a pet rat—is guilty of all three). The parents are ineffectual, milquetoast suburbanites who are so awfully boring that you start to root for the zombie dad—who winds up being a half-assed Freddy Krueger wannabe—to talk the younger son into slaughtering them after all.
In all seriousness (well, in as much seriousness as I can spare for Amityville 8), Dollhouse boasts some pretty terrific effects, including a gnarly burn make-up. Other highlights include the zombie’s rotting corpse and a legion of demons that inexplicably appears when the film suddenly turns into a Poltergeist movie. Considering these movies barely have any real connection to Amityville, that’s just as well.
This isn’t your usual family unit, though; in what may be the most awkward situation imaginable, a widower (Stephen Macht) is still chummy with an ex-girlfriend (Andrea Livingston), so much so that she still watches his kids when he’s out of town. When he’s attacked by a vicious neighborhood dog (presumably possessed by the evil clock), the ex practically moves in to care for him—which doesn’t stop her from inviting her new douchebag college professor boyfriend (Jonathan Penner) over and causing a ton of awkward exchanges. Honestly, I could probably just watch Macht and Penner go at it without any supernatural flourishes, but the gonzo accents certainly enliven the proceedings.
But more than that, It’s About Time really knows that the best Amityville efforts are as perverse as possible, so this entry obliges with a reprisal of The Possession’s incestual overtures between a brother and sister. It also cooks up a convoluted mythology that mines everything from Marquis de Sade to Nazis, right down to exploiting SS insignia. What does it say about this series that it has to resort to this kind of shit to be anything approaching watchable? I don’t know, but I am pretty sure I wish more of them were willing to be this nuts.
But the bigger surprise? The Evil Escapes actually lands in the upper echelon of the franchise, if only due to its willingness to be relentlessly entertaining. Transplanted from the dreary confines of Long Island to a quiet, seaside California hamlet, the franchise plunges headlong into ludicrous schlock. Familial drama still provides a rumbling tension (even if Jane Wyatt and on-screen mother Patty Duke claw at each other with soap opera-level hysterics), but it’s the assortment of unhinged supernatural shenanigans that truly delight. Haywire chainsaws, toasters, pipes, and garbage disposals claim a variety of expendable visitors and guests alike; everyone from a pet bird to a plumber are on the chopping block as Amityville goes full splatter movie—on prime time TV, no less. A riotously amusing entry—and technically the last “official” one until the remake—The Evil Escapes does not lack for insanity, what with its smelted corpses and lamplight séances.
And yet, the film endures as a popular and instantly recognizable effort from this era. While it actually arrived at the tail-end of America’s haunted house movie craze in the 70s, it codified so much of that genre’s formula, particularly when it comes to possession-style hauntings. You can’t watch a haunted house movie where a protagonist is slowly consumed by madness without thinking about Amityville, if only because this film represented a perfect storm: not only did it exploit the decade’s fascination with haunted houses, but it also exploited the most infamous case imaginable. It’s no wonder that it inspired a legacy that persists to this day: just the mere whisper of the word “Amityville” is enough to intrigue folks. Hell, look no further than most of the movies on this list for evidence.
The Possession, then, is something of a prequel, though it abandons all pretense of accuracy: not only are the names changed, but the events have been rewired for maximum scum and sleaze. Most infamously, it sees Ronald DeFeo stand-in Sonny Montelli (Jack Manger) start a relationship with his sister (Diane Franklin), much to the horror their parents. Somehow, it was decided that this angle would make this film feel truly fucked-up—never mind the fact that Sonny eventually winds up shooting his entire family to death. It’s a lurid, trashy attempt, and it’s oh so Italian horror, but I love every grimy minute of it. Buoyed by a virtuoso asshole performance from Burt Young, Amityville II is a mean, ugly follow-up that sees an American horror staple dragged through the Euro-horror exploitation mud. It was a sign of things to come—when just about everyone would get their hands on Amityville—and yet it’s also never been bested despite so many (read: too many) tries. You’re up, Amityville: Awakening. I'd wish you luck, but it shouldn't take too much effort to land among the better films in this series. comments powered by Disqus Ratings:
