Twice a month Joe Lipsett will dissect a new Amityville Horror film to explore how the “franchise” has evolved in increasingly ludicrous directions. This is “The Amityville IP.”
We’re hitting new lows with the “franchise” with The Amityville Theater (or The Amityville Playhouse depending on where you watch). Despite an inherently interesting location and a few well-shot sequences that suggest a much more interesting film, director John R. Walker and writer Steve Hardy never get a handle on the material. This is never more evident than in the brief climax, which poorly and hastily delivers a ton of exposition in a rushed and unsatisfying way. Add in some of the worst acting the series has seen yet, and this one is a bit of a stinker.
The first few scenes of the film are non-linear, as Fawn Harriman (Monèle LeStrat) confirms her plans to spend the weekend at the abandoned Roxy Theater that she inherited from her dead parents. Fawn’s overly invested high school Geography teacher Victor Stewart (Walker) thinks a weekend away could be good for her, while her attorney Dorothy Felix (Tiana Diehl) is shifty, but ultimately relents and gives her the keys.
The teens accompanying Fawn include her garbage boyfriend, Kyle Blaker (Linden Baker), who is clearly hoping for sex. Naturally he’s frustrated when he learns that she’s invited her best friend Indy (Eva Kwok, the film’s acting weak link), as well as Kyle’s brother, Jevan (Logan Russell), and Matt (Kennie Benoit).
Besides being poor actors, all of the scenes with the teens are grating because seemingly no one likes anyone else, including Fawn and her boyfriend. The dialogue is tin-earned, particularly Kyle’s inflammatory gay slurs about Jevan and Matt that necessitate exhaustive politically correct rejoinders from Fawn. Throw in his and Indy’s unusually aggressive reactions to Wendy (Hollie Anne Kornik), the unhoused goth girl Jevan discovers living in the theater, and these characters are all pretty insufferable.
At least Walker manages to convey some moodiness in key sequences. He gets good mileage out of a moment when Wendy and Matt spot Fawn’s bloody body lying in the aisle, then see her laughing at them maniacally up in the balcony seconds later when they investigate.
This and the surreal hallucination Fawn experiences of a threatening performance later in the film actually use the theater environment, pairing it with smoky backlighting or slow motion to create genuine atmosphere. One wishes that there were more of these moments because Walker shows promise in his framing and lighting. Unfortunately there’s no saving the tight, well-lit shots in dressing rooms and hallways as the group endlessly bickers about locked doors and who’s wandered off.
All of these scenes are better than the secondary plot unfolding at the same time, however. Stewart’s hunt for information about the theater is clearly intended to complement the teens’ locked-in narrative, but whenever the action cuts back to the British teacher, all of The Amityville Theater’s momentum immediately grinds to a halt.
That’s mainly because Stewart’s story feels unimportant. The teacher spends the majority of the film reminiscing about his final day in the UK before coming to America (the film is a Canadian/UK co-production, which seemingly necessitated employing a handful of British actors).
Besides these tired scenes, Stewart also has a series of unusual interactions with Amityville locals, such as a motel owner, library employee, and even the Mayor himself (Gary Martin). Only the latter character plays a significant part in the film, but it’s part of the hastily constructed exposition-laden climax involving malevolent spirits possessing members of the Indigenous Shinnecock tribe, an annual human sacrifice, and (unseen) catacombs. The film’s resolution confirms that everyone in town is complicit in the ceremony, but it’s all so rushed and poorly defined that the film’s “twist” ending plays more like an afterthought – and not a good one.
The result is a film filled with poorly acted, insufferable characters spouting repetitive dialogue, leading to a hasty climax that caps an interminable 1 hour and 43 minute runtime (Theater marks the longest Amityville sequel in quite some time). It’s a lot, but very little of it is good enough to recommend.
The Amityville IP Awards go to…
- Indigenous Representation: Considering I took The Amityville Asylum to task for its crappy indigenous content, Theater earns a thumbs up for avoiding suggestions that the Shinnecock practiced human sacrifices or are responsible for the curse. In fact, in Stewart’s flashbacks at the pub, there’s a whole conversation about the role British genocidal colonizers played in killing off America’s first nation population with smallpox blankets, etc. It is a little unwieldy and feels out of place in the film, but the film’s educational soapbox moment is worth crediting.
- Drinking Game: Take a sip each time Matt tells someone (usually Wendy) “I don’t know.” For some unknown reason, this makes up roughly 90% of Matt’s dialogue.
- Best Dialogue: Linden Baker gives the second worst performance of the film, but there’s something unabashedly hilarious when Kyle warns Fawn that Jevan had better not disappear again “Cause if he does, I swear to god, I’m going to pin him down and take a dump on his face.”
- Horror History: In their mean-spirited mockery of Wendy, Kyle and Indy display a surprising amount of horror history awareness with references to both Morticia Adams and Lily Munster. It’s particularly odd for Indy considering that earlier in the film she confuses Velma and Daphne while making a Scooby-Doo reference.
- Favourite Costume: When Kyle wakes up on the second day, he’s wearing a t-shirt emblazoned with his own (full) name on it. Why?!
- American Pride: Considering the film’s resolutely non-US shooting locations and cast, the proliferation of mini American flags scattered throughout the production is very amusing.
Next Time: We’re jumping ahead one year to 2016 to look at Amityville: Vanishing Point, which I hope is an Amityville tie-in to the 1971 film (Spoiler alert: it’s not).
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