It’s the spooky season, so I thought I’d revisit this iconic horror film that had scarred my childhood.
“Probably the toughest time in anyone’s life is when you have to murder a loved one because they’re the devil.”
– Emo Phillips
I first saw The Omen and its (increasingly inferior) sequels at just the right age to be scared out of my wits, but how does this movie stack up almost thirty years later when I’m no longer the same impressionable teenager? Pretty well, as it turns out. I knew that the film still had a hold over me when Jerry Goldsmith’s ominous theme song started playing over the opening credits. What is it about relentless choral chanting in Latin that makes it sound so damn unnerving and invokes so much primal dread?
It somehow feels strange to see an Old Hollywood star like Gregory Peck in a film that looks and feels so very 1970s with its washed out earthy colours. He brings considerable gravitas, dignity and class to the role of Robert Thorn, an American diplomat in Rome. As the movie opens, Thorn receives a grave news at the hospital where his wife Katherine (Lee Remick) just gave birth to their son. The boy died almost immediately, but the hospital chaplain convinces Thorn to secretly adopt another newborn whose mother died at the same time, without telling Katherine.
Five years later, Thorn is an ambassador in London and little rosy-cheeked Damien is thriving… until a series of unexplained deaths and dire warnings make Thorn realise that he’s caught in a middle of a truly diabolical plan. It begins with an inexplicable suicide at Damien’s birthday party, a scene that I found shocking at the time and is still disturbing. Soon after, Thorn is visited by an unhinged-looking priest who informs him in no uncertain terms that Damien is the Antichrist prophesied in the Book of Revelation, and that his and his wife’s lives are in danger.
I would hesitate to call The Omen outright scary, but it still has a tremendous sense of impending doom, and things moving mercilessly towards their end despite the protagonist’s best efforts. There’s also a tragedy in watching the couple’s mental state deteriorate, as Thorn is increasingly traumatised by his nightmarish discoveries, and Katherine is overcome with a loathing for her child she cannot explain. Just like its more acclaimed contemporaries, Rosemary’s Baby and The Exorcist, The Omen treats the satanic threat with utter sincerity and seriousness. It made me wonder how much more effective these movies must have been back when Christianity had a much stronger presence in the society compared to today.
I forgot how much of this movie is based in the UK, with the British feel complemented by a bunch of terrific British character actors. Billie Whitelaw is fabulously demonic as Mrs Baylock, Damien’s new nanny who’ll stop at nothing to protect him. Criminally underappreciated David Warner is a photographer who joins Thorn on his globe-trotting quest to discover the truth about Damien’s origins, after he notices something strange about the photos he took of the people who all met a grisly end soon after. The movie doesn’t ask much from the angelic child actor who plays Damien, but he’s suitably creepy at all the right moments. It’s left open to interpretation whether Damien is aware of his own nature, and the movie is wise not to overdo the bad seed thing.
It’s pretty remarkable that, when you get down to it, the only physical threats in the film are a middle-aged woman, a toddler and a black Rottweiler. The film’s most memorable deaths are down to the invisible malevolent force that no mortal being can fight or escape from. Satan would eventually lose further in the series, but here evil reigns undefeated. When done well, religious horror can really get under my skin.
I don’t feel an urge to revisit The Omen sequels, even if I do have a soft spot for Sam Neill as the grown-up Damien. I might however check out the confusingly named The First Omen, which is supposed to be a rare prequel that doesn’t stink.
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