‘The Amityville Horror’ (2005): Literally One in a Million

April 15, 2020

There seems to have been a haunted house movie made every fifteen minutes since the tragic event that happened November 13, 1974 (sorry, ladies and germs, it was a Wednesday). Ronald DeFeo Jr. killed his family at 112 Ocean Avenue in Amityville, New York. It’s been fifteen years since the Ryan Reynolds version of The Amityville Horror (2005), and there have been more than fifteen Amityville-related movies produced since then. Anyone up for a quindecuple feature? You still won’t have seen them all. It’s a crowded house.

I grew up on Long Island, so naturally a few things stand out. First, if you know someone who grew up near Amityville, ask them if they ever drove by the house. Yes. They did. So often that police used to beat the neighborhood to chase away loiterers and gawkers. The address was even changed to 108 Ocean Avenue. I don’t know where Ryan Reynolds and his insta-family was living. Up the block at 412 Ocean Avenue, according to the 2005 movie.

As you probably noticed from the above paragraph, Long Islanders say “I live ON Long Island” as opposed to “I live IN Long Island.” It’s sort of a colloquialism we know is wrong, but try arguing with a Lawn Guylander about it. Oh my gawd. You have to take a bridge to Manhattan. The colloquialism ends in Brooklyn, because Brooklyn ain’t Long Island, yo. But it is. So why does the Realtor say “IN?” Screen writer, Scott Kosar, would probably say she was a transplant. And yeah, she’d have to be. Her accent was too neutral.

But we’re not here to talk about location or historical accuracy. We have jitter edits, flicker lightning, thunderous orchestral jolts, and jump scares to talk about. It’s supposed to be a creepy tale, but hey, it was 2005. It was the aughts. The first decade after the big, bad nineties was in direct competition with its predecessor. A few years after 9/11, we were back into blood and goo, violence and killing, and gore porn. 2004 gave us Saw. It was followed quickly by Saw II in 2005. The highly regarded The Descent was released in 2005. Hostel, 2005. It was a bloody year. Yet, The Amityville Horror went the safe route with the (sort of) happy ending. They axed the dog, though (did the actual George Lutz admit to murdering the family dog?). No bueno. People die in horror movies. People are supposed to die there. That’s why we watch them. But instead of killing this extremely pretty family, the only people who die are in the flashbacks. The Lutz family didn’t die in real life, either. They only walked away from the real estate deal of a lifetime because of a few odors and insomnia. But who cares about historical accuracy once there’s been a hundred movies made on the subject? Long Islanders were convinced every family who lived there would be doomed. They were fascinated. They were obsessed. It was time for a refresh. For the time, it worked.

Somehow, it holds up, but not for the story. Some credit goes to George and Kathy Lutz for contributing material for the screenplay. But, really, Kathy. George threatens your kids with an axe, and you’re going to stay with him? Of course you are. Story rights, et al. George said it himself, “Houses don’t kill people. People kill people.” You didn’t walk away from the investment. Walking away twenty-eight days later (serendipity) was the investment. Kudos. Jay Anson’s novel was one of my favorites growing up. I think I read it four or five times before 1990.

Who wouldn’t want to be portrayed by Melissa George and Ryan Reynolds? The cast is strong. They held this movie together with intensity that catapulted just a few careers. Chloë Grace Moretz kicks ass. I’m not sorry for that pun. She played the little girl who had a little dead girl friend better than anyone. Try not to have empathy when she argues with her mom about Jodie after the roof scene. Jodie is real. Chelsea Lutz will tell you. Wait, but Jodie is supposed to be a demonic pig, not a girl. You Lutzes. What did you do? I don’t even know what’s real anymore. Time sure does fly. It seems like it was 3:15 AM just a few hours ago, but it’s been fifteen years.

Bonus material for sleuths:

I wrote down a bit of information Kathy Lutz pulled from the card catalog at the Amityville Library… Reverend Jeremiah Ketcham:
Chronicle of a Zealot 1665-1691
A chronicle of one of Amityville’s most curious inhabitants, Reverend Ketchem
ISBN 6-490834-458-29

I looked it up. The ISBN is not valid. I so wanted it to be real. Jeremiah Ketcham (aka Ketch’em and Kill’em) is loosely based on a John Ketchum. Although he lived on Long Island in the seventeenth century, he didn’t live in “the house.” He didn’t torture Indians. That trope needs to die. Let it rest in peace with the Indian burial ground in Poltergeist, the last legitimate place for that cliche. Something tells me he didn’t slit his own throat in the basement, either. This story is unraveling at the seams. Better get to watching those other ninety-nine films. Hey, Lutz family, want to join me for a marathon?

Stab me with money