If The Amityville Harvest were a beverage, it would be flat off-brand cola left open on a radiator: technically drinkable, vaguely sticky, and guaranteed to make you question your life choices.
Billed as a supernatural horror film and tied—very, very loosely—to the already-abused “Amityville” name, this 2020 entry feels less like a movie and more like a contractual obligation wrapped in fog machine fumes. It’s allegedly about a documentary crew following a strange man with powers, but by the halfway mark you’ll be convinced the real supernatural entity is whoever keeps resurrecting this franchise from the cinematic grave.
The Premise: Found Footage Meets Found Will to Live (Barely)
On paper, it doesn’t sound terrible:
A documentary crew goes to interview Vincent Miller, a mysterious, old-timey weirdo with powers, and strange things ensue.
In practice, it’s more:
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A bunch of people with cameras wander around a dim house
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Occasionally ask Vincent questions like they’re filming a student thesis
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Then stare at him while he gives long, vague monologues that sound like someone fed a Dracula script into a blender
The plot description is so bare bones—“A documentary crew follows Vincent Miller, a strange figure with powers”—because that’s about as much as the movie can commit to. The story ambles from scene to scene like it had somewhere else to be.
You’d expect either:
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A meta-fake-doc vibe (à la Grave Encounters), or
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A gothic, character-driven thriller, or
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At least one moment where you feel something other than mild irritation
Instead, you get a film that feels like it’s constantly gearing up to start… and then just never quite gets out of the driveway.
Vincent Miller: Diet Dracula, Zero Calories, No Bite
Kyle Lowder plays Vincent Miller, and to his credit, he seems to realize he’s the only thing standing between this movie and total cinematic vapor. He leans into the weird: slicked-back charisma, theatrical delivery, “I’m absolutely not a vampire, why would you even say that?” energy.
He’s clearly supposed to be mysterious, seductive, and sinister. Unfortunately, the writing gives him all the menace of a cosplay host at a haunted winery.
Vincent:
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Lives in a spooky house
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Acts old-fashioned and aloof
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Clearly has some kind of supernatural power (the movie keeps nudging you like, “Get it? Get it?”)
But instead of being unsettling, he mostly feels like the kind of guy who would corner you at a party to talk about “energies” and then disappear when it’s time to help clean up.
He’s not helped by the script, which seems allergic to specificity. What are his powers? What does he want? Why is this documentary crew here? The movie shrugs and tosses more fog into the hallway.
The Documentary Crew: Fodder with Lenses
The rest of the cast is mostly there to:
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Hold cameras
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Ask questions with all the emotional urgency of a DMV clerk
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Provide a steady stream of “Who’s there?” and “Guys, this isn’t funny” as the weirdness escalates
You’ve got:
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Christina (Sadie Katz), who exists in that vague space between “lead” and “person who will eventually scream the most”
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Cosmo, Nancy, and the rest of the crew, each with about half a personality trait and a target on their forehead
The film gestures weakly at interpersonal dynamics—a bit of tension here, some banter there—but never does anything with them. Nobody feels like a real person. They’re just movable meat puppets waiting for Vincent and the script to decide they’ve outlived their usefulness.
You don’t root for them. You don’t hate them. They’re just… there, like props that occasionally whimper.
The Amityville Problem: Name-Brand, Generic Product
Let’s address the haunted elephant in the room: slapping “Amityville” into your title at this point is basically admitting you’ve run out of ideas but still remember how SEO works.
This movie has about as much meaningful connection to the original Amityville Horror as a Halloween store plastic axe has to The Shining. It’s technically in the same broad territory—spooky house, vague evil, people making bad decisions—but there’s no real thematic or narrative tether. It might as well be called Random Old Vampire Guy in a House and lose nothing but Google hits.
The irony is almost poetic: this is the last Amityville film released before Ronald DeFeo Jr.’s death, and somehow the most horrifying thing about that trivia is realizing this franchise outlived any reason to exist decades ago.
Atmosphere by Light Switch and Fog Machine
Visually, the movie is trying for “moody gothic horror” but lands somewhere closer to “Halloween attraction rehearsals.” There’s a lot of:
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Dim hallways
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Blue-tinted night scenes
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Candles as shorthand for ambiance
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Fog. So much fog. The fog has more presence than half the cast.
Every so often, a shot lands—a nicely framed corridor, Vincent looming in half-shadow, a flicker of something truly strange. But these moments are fleeting, buried under repetition and clumsy pacing. The film isn’t stylish enough to coast on visuals, and it isn’t energetic enough to distract you with fun nonsense.
There’s some gore and supernatural imagery sprinkled in, but nothing that really sticks. If you’ve seen more than three horror movies in your life, you’ll recognize most of it as “Oh, we’re doing that thing again.”
Horror? Suspense? Anyone? Bueller?
At its core, The Amityville Harvest has one fatal sin for a horror film: it is rarely, if ever, scary.
It’s not even bad in the wild, entertaining way. It’s not The Room of horror. It’s just… listless. Scenes that should build dread instead just happen. “Shocking” reveals arrive pre-deflated. Jump scares are telegraphed so far in advance you could send them a calendar invite.
Horror relies on either:
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Emotional investment, or
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A sense of danger, or
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Wild, unpredictable chaos
This movie offers none in meaningful doses. The documentary angle could have given it immediacy. The “strange man with powers” angle could have given it intrigue. The “Amityville” angle could have given it some cursed house mythology.
Instead, it feels like a temp-check version of all three.
Missed Opportunities: The Harvest That Never Ripens
The title promises a “harvest,” which implies:
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Some long game
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Ritualistic or cyclical evil
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People being metaphorically or literally reaped
There are hints at Vincent being part of some larger pattern or feeding process, but the film never leans into this in a satisfying way. If you’re going to call something Harvest, I expect at least one scene where the audience goes, “Oh. Oh that’s what he’s doing to them. That’s messed up.” Instead, it’s more of a light nibble than a full reap.
It’s like ordering a big, bloody steak and being handed a single crouton.
Final Thoughts: A Weak Crop from a Dead Field
The Amityville Harvest isn’t the worst horror movie ever made. That almost would’ve been impressive. Instead, it’s a forgettable, faintly irritating entry in a franchise that’s become less a series and more a loose club for public domain brand squatters.
Is there anything redeeming?
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Kyle Lowder clearly tries to inject some life into Vincent.
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There are occasional moments where you can see the movie trying to be atmospheric.
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The premise, in a vacuum, could have worked with sharper writing and more commitment.
But as a whole, it feels like a film going through the motions: spooky house, weird guy, meat for the grinder, vague evil, roll credits, collect the check, toss “Amityville” in the title for good measure.
If you’re a hardcore completionist who has to watch every Amityville movie, this is another notch on your cinematic self-harm belt. If you’re just looking for a good supernatural horror flick?
Consider harvesting literally anything else.
