THE AMITYVILLE HORROR (1979)

There is a house on the south shore of Long Island, New York. It’s a large Dutch Colonial home in a suburb called Amityville. Many legends have circulated about this house—some of them even true. Some say the walls bleed. Others claim cloven hooves trace circles in the snow around the house as if marking it as a dwelling of evil. And some have even heard the house whisper sinister commands: “For God’s sake… get out!”

At 3:15 every morning, one of the Lutz family members wakes up. They’ve only recently moved in, but they all find themselves in the presence of a powerful entity—are there supernatural forces at work in their home? George Lutz (James Brolin) is certain something’s wrong: he’s constantly cold and hasn’t slept well in weeks. What’s more, he has a dangerous glint in his eye, one that unsettles his friends and his new wife, Kathy Lutz (Margot Kidder). Then, Kathy has terrible dreams about what George is going to do to them and she fears they might be premonitions.

The Amityville Horror was panned upon release 45 years ago. Although it would experience terrific success at the box office—even becoming the most successful independent film of all time, for a while—many critics denigrated the film as a tedious slog. While it’s true The Amityville Horror suffers from uneven pacing and a weak ending, there’s still plenty in the film to appreciate.

For one thing, the place this film holds in cinematic history is fascinating. It revolutionised the portrayal of haunted houses. It also features frightening moments, unnerving performances, and intriguing themes that keep the film afloat. Even if you’re not overwhelmed by scares, you’ll probably find yourself feeling at least a little unsettled—even after nearly half a century.

What truly happened at this New York mansion has been the subject of much debate ever since. However, one thing that has never been in dispute is why the house first came under scrutiny: a mass murder took place within its walls. On 13 November 1974, the house became forever enshrouded in notoriety after Ronald DeFeo murdered his entire family with a .35 Marlin rifle.

It was around 3 a.m. Although his story would continually change, with some parts retracted and others added over the years, DeFeo initially confessed that he went from bedroom to bedroom and shot his parents and four siblings while they slept. He then buried his blood-soaked clothes, the rifle and cartridges, had a bath, got dressed, and went to report the crime at around 6:30 a.m. He claimed to have no memory of the event, but when asked by the prosecution why he executed his whole family in cold blood, Ronald DeFeo responded: “The voices told me to.”

Such a tale was sure to curdle the blood of American citizens. Concerns about the societal effects of a new drug-taking generation mingled with fears of the emergence of ungodly practices, such as Satanism and witchcraft. It was in this unbalanced climate that the Lutz family told their story. After purchasing the DeFeo house in December 1975, George and Kathy Lutz fled the abode with their children and dog after only 28 days. They claimed that the presence of paranormal forces caused them to flee in fear for their lives.

Thus began the legend that has plagued the residence ever since. A real-life haunted house: a home that caused one unfortunate man to murder his family and forced another family to abscond in terror. Consequently, it is unsurprising that the tale of this Amityville residence was turned into a feature film. With the foundations of a chilling true-crime story, one that had gripped the nation with its sheer brutality, followed by an equally unsettling tale of supernatural forces, it was bound to be a success.

Stuart Rosenberg’s film capitalises on this national hysteria in parts. A pair of disembodied eyes stare through the window at Kathy, and she has nightmares about the mass murder that happened in the house only a year prior: “She was shot in the head!” George’s attempts to stay warm in their home, which is somehow always cold, also work to unsettle the viewer; there is something not right about this house.

There is, however, one moment above all others that succeeds in jolting the viewer. Kathy sees the deranged George standing over the bloodied corpse of her daughter, just before he turns and cleaves Kathy’s head in two. An expression of unbridled rage is etched on his bearded face. Only then is it revealed to be a dream, but that moment of ambiguity is chilling. It’s moments like these that have inspired some of the best 21st-century horror filmmakers; this dream sequence bears a remarkable resemblance to a nightmare in Ari Aster’s spine-tingling Hereditary (2018).

Unfortunately, Rosenberg struggles to maintain this level of terror throughout the film. While the iconic scenes and imagery are present—a bathroom overflowing with flies at the wrong time of year, walls that ooze blood, and a rocking chair that sways mysteriously—others lack impact. It doesn’t help that some sequences feel rather arbitrary, as they are never explained: black liquid pulsates from the toilets but causes little concern for either George or Kathy and is never mentioned again.

Perhaps worse, Rosenberg commits the unforgivable error of creating moments that end up being unintentionally funny—likely every horror director’s worst nightmare. When Aunt Helena (Irene Dailey) visits the house, the nun flees in horror from the evil presence within. As she speeds away, Helena parks haphazardly and leans out of the car door, narrowly avoiding ruining the interior as she vomits onto the ground.

This kind of horror elicits more laughs than thrills, damaging the atmosphere the director is painstakingly trying to create for the overall story to work. The only thing scary about this scene is that it reminds me of a time I drove my drunken friend home from the pub after he’d just eaten a curry. Unfortunately, he couldn’t get the car door open in time before he expelled the evil that dwelled within him, the whole event feeling reminiscent of a particular scene from The Exorcist (1973).

Another prominent issue in Rosenberg’s film is the uneven pacing, which further hinders his attempt to build a consistently terrifying atmosphere. There are sections in the film where very little happens at all, and arguably the editor should have cut some scenes that don’t contribute to the story.

However, despite these flaws, The Amityville Horror remains engaging and ultimately proves to be an interesting case study. There are several different ways in which to analyse the film, and its position in film history yields intriguing insights. While imperfect, it reflects an increasingly modern approach to horror and is supported by thematic concerns that defined the period. It could even be argued that it established the framework for how haunted house films would function in a new generation of cinema, making it a groundbreaking film in the genre.

This is not to say that Rosenberg’s film existed in a vacuum. A plethora of haunted house films preceded it. The 1960s were recognised as a decade of unprecedented progress in the genre’s history. Stylistic advances in cinema and the relaxation of the Hays Code allowed for some truly challenging horror films to be made. These included the likes of The Innocents (1961), which has been argued to allegorise the sexual repression inherent in religion, and The Haunting (1963), the latter of which is considered by some to be the greatest haunted house film ever made.

Much of 1970s horror can be seen as a flowering of the seeds sown in 1960s horror. Rosemary’s Baby (1968) exemplifies a preoccupation with paganism and satanic ritualism that would become a growing concern in America. The Exorcist and The Wicker Man (1973) both continue this trend: the films’ sincere exploration of contemporary anxieties, such as the diminishing presence of Christianity and the subsequent moral decline of an increasingly alienated world, reflects the prevalent fears of the time.

Undoubtedly, such films exacerbated what became known as the Satanic Panic, a period generally said to have run from the early-1980s to the late-1990s. The public was terrified by the idea of gangs of Satan worshippers abducting children and making snuff films. The Exorcist, The Wicker Man, and The Amityville Horror all, to varying degrees of effectiveness, conveyed the importance of religion in overcoming such primal evils.

Therefore, I argue that the battle between secularism and Christian virtues offers the most insightful interpretation of these films. It’s no coincidence that a nun flees the house in terror, or that Father Francis Delaney (Ron Steiger) cries out “I’m blind!” after battling the demonic entities haunting the Amityville home. This symbolism represents the blindness that has plagued a wayward nation straying from the path, painfully unaware of the evils steadily growing around them.

However, others have interpreted the film differently. Horror icon Stephen King has suggested that the subtext for the film is the terror of homeownership amid an economic crisis. The film is set during the 1973-75 recession, a period of stagnation that occurred at the end of the post-World War II economic boom, further compounded by the 1970s energy crisis. In the same year, identical fears of global financial decline and unreliable energy resources led to the creation of films like Mad Max (1979) in Australia.

While the ability to move freely is presented as an essential right in Australia, without which the nation would crumble into dystopia, in America, it’s the house that’s shown to be an inalienable right for every man, woman, and child. The economic burden placed upon families who want to own a home is likened to otherworldly evil. Existing in a time when you cannot afford the house you live in is equivalent to hell, which perhaps explains the miniature inferno in the Lutz family’s basement.

In his book Hearths of Darkness, Tony Williams writes: “The Amityville Horror contains significant associations between family life, homeownership, and supposedly supernatural horror… It is one of the few films that link the economic responsibilities of homeownership to family horror.” We can even see the visual symbolism behind this idea: the walls bleed as if the lifeblood that the Lutz family have poured into the house is seeping out. Or, the house is literally bleeding their wallets dry—there are some ways to interpret that image.

Regardless of the interpretation chosen, it’s interesting to note how the fundamental mechanics of horror ultimately remain the same, although the content of the fear tends to shift. The four aforementioned horror films all feature the theme of outsiders intruding upon what should be sacrosanct territory, be it the nation, the home, or even the human body.

Horror films from the 1950s employed the same terrifying device, but the shape of the threat was the diffuse, unstoppable spread of Communism in America, as seen in films like Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956) or The Blob (1958). In the 1980s, when the fear of demonic possession had temporarily subsided in favour of an even greater, more diffuse threat, Cronenberg transformed the global fear of an AIDS pandemic into a unique body horror film, The Fly (1986).

Analyses like these are part of the reason why The Amityville Horror remains worth watching 45 years after its initial release. The film functions partly as a historical document, being both a definitive work in the haunted house genre and a timely meditation on the importance of faith as a method of warding off evil. Furthermore, it’s also worth noting how a film that revitalised the American haunted house was almost immediately overshadowed by the emergence of two instant classics the following year: The Shining (1980) and The Changeling (1980).

Regarding the influence of Kubrick’s film, I’ve often wondered how much it might have drawn from The Amityville Horror. After all, the similarities in plot, execution, and release date are rather uncanny. There’s a child with an imaginary friend, whom no one else can see. There’s a father who gradually spirals into insanity and decides to murder his family, with an axe being his weapon of choice.

Both films feature a sequence where someone hides in a bathroom as the patriarch chops it down with said axe. Both families reside in a house (or hotel, for the pedants out there) that was the site of a mass murder. Additionally, both films use intertitles to count down the time the family has spent in the haunted dwelling, with ominous chanting from demonic voices forming part of the film’s soundtrack.

There are probably more similarities, but these are the ones I could immediately discern. With all this in mind, you might think that Kubrick blatantly plagiarised Rosenberg’s film, but you’d be wrong. That’s because, although Kubrick’s film was released a whole year later, Kubrick had begun production in May 1978 and wrapped in July 1979, just before The Amityville Horror was released. The fact that all their similarities are down to mere coincidence may be the most supernatural thing about these films.

The similarities between The Amityville Horror and other subsequent haunted house features may not be entirely coincidental. Poltergeist (1982), for instance, echoes much of the plot and general aesthetic of Rosenberg’s film. The door to another dimension, the house built on a Native American burial ground, and children communicating with spirits from another realm all bear an uncanny resemblance. This is likely amplified by the fact that both films spawned franchises of lesser sequels.

While their story sparked a highly successful horror film, it appears, by all accounts, that the experiences documented by the Lutz family were entirely fabricated. Many believe that author Jay Anson and the Lutz family concocted the story to get rich. At the very least, that’s what law enforcement infers; police dispute George Lutz’s claim that he ever called to report disturbances.

Subsequent occupants never reported any strange events either, and meteorological records indicate no snowfall occurred during the period in question. This means no evil spirit could have violated the pristine snow with cloven hooves. Finally, and perhaps most egregiously, the local Shinnecock Indians have unanimously rejected the claim that the house was built on a site where the tribe would abandon the dying. This ties this mystery up in a rather neat bow.

While the initial crime was tragically real, and Ronald DeFeo Jr.’s claims of hearing voices very evocative, it’s likely that the subsequent haunted house story was a hoax. It’s probably for similar reasons that the film suffers from such a weak ending; if nothing truly happened, it’s difficult to imagine a dramatic climax that’s both shocking and verifiable.

With these kinds of films particularly, such a bland ending is unforgivable. Yet, Rosenberg still managed to craft what was the definitive modern haunted house movie, one that would go on to define a generation of filmmakers. It may have been surpassed by the likes of The Changeling and The Shining, but it was a game-changer for its era.

Furthermore, even with the weak ending, The Amityville Horror is a perfect film for a stormy night. If you’re watching it with friends, you’ll all enjoy the palpable atmosphere the film creates. And if you’re watching it alone, you probably won’t be too keen on going down to the basement before bed.

USA | 1979 | 118 MINUTES | 1.85:1 | COLOUR | ENGLISH

Cast & Crew

director: Stuart Rosenberg.
writer: Sandor Stern (based on the novel by Jay Anson).
starring: James Brolin, Margot Kidder, Rod Steiger, Don Stroud, Murray Hamilton, John Larch, Natasha Ryan, K.C Martel, Meeno Peluce, Michael Sacks, Helen Shaver, Amy Wright, Val Avery, Elsa Raven & Irene Dailey.