During the late ’80s, the Amityville “franchise” (a term I’m using very loosely) took an infamous turn with a series of movies that didn’t even take place within the iconic haunted house on 112 Ocean Avenue. Instead, cursed objects from the home—a lamp, a clock, a mirror, a dollhouse — made their way into new homes, where they terrorized unfortunate characters into the ’90s. While many of these efforts aren’t bad (AMITYVILLE 1992 is a personal favorite), they’re indisputably the product of crass exploitation that continues today with each new “installment” that boasts an increasingly tenuous connection to the events that inspired the original craze 50 years ago. In all this time, however, nobody dared to center one of these — or any other horror movie — around a haunted swimming pool until Bryce McGuire and Rod Blackhurst hatched “Night Swim,” a deviously clever and sparse 2014 short with a killer hook that begged for expansion. A decade later, McGuire has returned with a feature film take, and the spirit of those ’90s Amityville movies lingers on. NIGHT SWIM is indeed a movie about a haunted pool, albeit one that takes itself more seriously than those unrepentant schlock-fests. This might be McGuire’s boldest choice, this insistence that a horror movie about a cursed pool can be built upon a solid foundation of compelling familial drama.
In this edition of haunted house hunting, the Wallers are looking for a fresh start following patriarch Ray’s (Wyatt Russell) sudden retirement from baseball due to multiple sclerosis. When the upscale, soulless offerings on the market fail to impress, the family stumbles upon a quaint house in the suburbs. Ray is immediately drawn to the pool in the backyard, particularly its potential to help him rehabilitate for a possible (if not far-fetched) return to the major leagues. His first encounter with the pool while touring the house promises as much when it grants him a mysterious vision of future glory, inspiring him to convince his wife Eve (Kerry Condon) to buy the place right on the spot. However, it soon becomes clear that a malevolent entity haunts the pool, waiting to warp the Wallers’ dreams into a nightmare.
When NIGHT SWIM is at its most primal and diving into the deep end of its haunted pool premise, it’s a playful but gripping display of McGuire’s horror filmmaking chops. His ability to craft and orchestrate effective scare sequences is on display early and often, starting with a 1992-set prologue that essentially re-conceptualizes the original short film. He deploys clever camera angles and hones a sharp sense of pacing as he explores familiar anxieties and fears surrounding pools, like the uneasiness of reaching into a drain to recover a toy or the eeriness of finding yourself in a pool when the lights flicker out. Americana staples like games of Marco Polo and pool parties become nightmarish propositions once voices begin emanating from the drain and shadowy figures make fleeting, phantasmal appearances above the surface. McGuire carefully shrouds his demons in shadows, offering only quick glimpses of their freakish faces before the third act erupts with more overt horrors. Until that point, though, NIGHT SWIM is suitably spooky, and it’s obvious McGuire has spent a lot of time dreaming up nightmarish scenarios in the pool, so the film at least fulfills that potential.
The human element underpinning it all is more of a mixed bag, though. Russell and Condon are tremendous performers whose presence lends an immediate gravitas to the proceedings because they subtly convey the urgency of this particular move for the Waller family. This couple is clearly at a crossroads but are determined to make it all work despite their separate desires: she’s working on a degree and wants Ray to accept his diagnosis, while he still harbors those dreams of returning to glory, and the script never resorts to melodramatic displays to convey this tension. However, the film does sell its actors a little short by not allowing them to fully explore this dynamic, nor does it effectively weave the “wishing well” aspect of the story into their relationship.
Considering the presence in the pool grants its victims’ greatest desires at a horrific cost, it would have been more interesting to see it try and get its hooks in multiple targets. Instead, it takes the more obvious route by keying in on Ray, allowing the film to predictably contort into Platinum Dunes Amityville territory, only it’s beefcake Wyatt Russell terrorizing his family with a baseball bat instead of beefcake Ryan Reynolds brandishing an ax. And while the resolution here is admittedly surprising, it’s a rather abrupt turn that doesn’t quite mesh with the family dynamic we’ve seen unfold during the rest of the film. Without a proper setup, it feels like McGuire’s last, maudlin gasp to highlight a human dimension that’s never quite fleshed out. It feels admirable enough because you have to respect that this film is not simply a one-note joke considering its premise — it’s just that something feels amiss down the stretch, almost as if some crucial scenes or subplots have been surgically excised to make sure the film fits in a neat box.
I suppose that’s the best way to describe NIGHT SWIM. On the surface, everything looks to be in place with its compelling lead performances, Charlie Sarroff’s evocative photography, and McGuire’s devious playfulness at the helm. But something about it also feels vaguely lacking, almost as if everyone involved were a little too jittery to swim too far into the deep end. Its high points, like McGuire’s existentially terrifying depiction of the pool’s extra-dimensional abyss or the terrifically unnerving appearance of a demon in the drain, are begging for something more substantial than the inconsistent family dynamics and the undercooked mythology down the home stretch. I also can’t decide if NIGHT SWIM needs to be more mean or more playful because it flashes enough glimmers in each direction. A pool party nearly threatens to provide some much-needed bite during the second act but falls short, while Ben Sinclair wanders in for a scene as a kooky pool technician whose energy goes unmatched by the rest of the movie. The answer is that it could probably use a little bit of both: McGuire should have dared to have his cake and eat it too by accenting the drama with more violent outbursts and colorful embellishments that would have let it stick to the ribs. In short, NIGHT SWIM could use a touch of that gonzo ’90s Amityville energy; without it, the film is nice enough, a little too nice, even, considering it involves an ancient wellspring that feasts on human souls.
Tags: Amélie Hoeferle, Atomic Monster, Ben Sinclair, Blumhouse, Bryce McGuire, Charlie Sarroff, Demons, Gavin Warren, Horror, James Wan, Jason Blum, Jeff McEvoy, Jodi Long, Kerry Condon, Mark Korven, Nancy Lenehan, Night, Rod Blackhurst, Swimming, Wyatt Russell
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