45 Years Later: ‘The Omen’ Still Asks the Hard Questions

June 29, 2021

“Look at me Damien. It’s all for you.”

In the 45 years since The Omen was released in 1976, the concept of God versus the Devil in cinema has been explored thoroughly. It works, though, because this storytelling cadence is so captivating for audiences worldwide. The jostling of good and evil is so inexplicably enigmatic. Every day, people are tempted and swayed. Human nature dictates that we relate to these ethereal struggles.

Simply put: it is scary stuff.

Is that why The Omen has had such a consistent placement among revered horror classics? Perhaps. I maintain it is possible to simply enjoy a film without requiring a deep dive into its themes. But layers within this supernatural horror film from director Richard Donner are vital to its strengths. It compels viewers to face the ubiquitous fear of being out of control and fighting pure evil. It has captivated fans of horror for decades, and is now required viewing for any exploration into the cosmic horror sub-genre.

Studying why films like The Omen felt needed to be made in the first place is fascinating. The 1970s were, indeed, a tenuous and precarious decade for the United States. The free love rhetoric of the 1960s had been swallowed up going into the ‘70s, replaced with tumultuous marginalization of minorities, Watergate, and the dwindling Vietnam war. The American landscape was besmirched in a new context of paranoia going into the new decade. The ‘70s film industry provided a variety of horror films to mirror this gritty reality; the sub-genre floodgates opened up with sci-fi horror, monster flicks, revenge movies, etc. Classics like The Last House on the Left (1972), The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974), Jaws (1975), Halloween (1978) and Alien (1979) all delivered their own level of catharsis for the rocky ether of the decade.

The Omen fell into a particular horror cycle: supernatural, popularizing the number of the beast being 666, leaving its own dark mark on popular culture. This number was plucked from chapter 13, verse 18, from the “Book of Revelation.” The added scripture was shoe-horned in to give the film some integrity to scare viewers with, very akin to the “based on a true story” gimmick of future scary movies.

It is arguably the weakest contribution to the Devil’s hat trick – or unholy trinity, if you will – of the late ’60s-early ’70s horror pool. Rounding out the trio are of course Rosemary’s Baby (1968) and The Exorcist (1973). Films such as Carrie (1976), The Amityville Horror (1979), and Phantasm (1979) closed some supernatural gaps too with minor success. The moral suppositions these films ask are analogous to the context of American life at the time of their releases; with a public reeling from events such as the Manson family, the eventual Jonestown massacre, and aversion to nuclear power. The Omen didn’t challenge viewers as strongly as The Exorcist or Rosemary’s Baby did. But it still presented a moral quandary, something that I feel is often missing with contemporary horror. It was reflective of what the evangelical masses believed the United States status to be at that point in time. Was America doomed? These spirited films chomped down harder on the American psyche than other horror films. Unlike the masked killer or monster which could be vanquished rather simply, taking on and defeating the Devil was much harder.

It started when religious consultant Bob Unger pitched an idea to producer Harvey Bernard in 1973. The premise was direct: What if the Devil was here? Among us? What if he was only a child? Could we stop him? Could we stop the antichrist?

The pitch was sold, the project greenlit, and a script was written. Filming began in 1975, with a working title of The Antichrist. Being a bit too on the nose, the title was changed to The Birthmark before finally settling into The Omen. The casting of the revered, yet ostensibly retired, Gregory Peck (To Kill A Mockingbird) as the hero Ambassador Robert Thorn gave this small horror film some heft and weight.

The plot was simple enough. An American diplomat in Italy and his wife give birth to a son. When their actual son dies at childbirth, the husband (Peck) secretly adopts another boy as a replacement. He withholds this information from his wife. The time of the child’s birth is notated to be 6:00 am, the 6th of June – 6/6/6. Cut to five years later. The ambassador, Robert Thorn, his wife Kathy (Lee Remick) and their little five-year-old boy Damien (Harvey Stephens) are re-located to London for Robert’s new ambassador appointment. Shortly after their move, horrible events begin unfolding. Damien’s nanny (Holly Palance) hangs herself in front of the entire congregation at Damien’s birthday party in quite spectacular fashion. A new nanny mysteriously arrives, Mrs. Baylock (Billie Whitelaw), complete with references, yet with no request from either of Damien’s surprised and perplexed parents.

“Have no fear little one, I am here to protect thee.”

She is revealed to be more than your average governess for Damien, slowly cutting in and undermining his parents’ decisions about sending the boy to church despite his mother’s wishes to do so. Or keeping on a frightening and peculiar Rottweiler, despite his father rebuking its staying inside the house.

“She is an apostate for the Devil.”

A priest, Father Brennan (Patrick Troughton), tries to warn Thorn rather erratically that Damien is actually foretold to be the antichrist incarnate, destined to usurp Thorn’s power and wealth and eventually end the world.

“He must die Mr. Thorn!”

A photographer named Keith Jennings (David Warner – Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II, Titanic) investigates the bizarre happenings that have occurred around Damien, including Father Brennan suddenly being killed and the death of the first nanny. Jennings conspires with Thorn to ascertain the truth. They begin studying scriptures, digging up graves, and tracking down records to validate the little devil (no pun intended). After cultivating evidence, a lot of which is circumstantial, the stressed Thorn reaches a breaking point. He arrives at a shocking realization that his son is evil. And he must be killed. Hardly an easy pill for any parent to swallow. Jennings persists, however, that Thorn must follow through. Unfortunately, Jennings’ time on the field is cut short, as he is soon killed as well. His decapitation scene remains as one of the most iconic horror movie deaths I’ve ever seen. As the movie races to the finish line, Mrs. Thorn and Mrs. Baylock are also killed. Finally, Thorn himself is shot to death moments before he can take the last step to save mankind – stabbing ritual blades into Damien on hallowed ground inside a church. The closing shot of The Omen has Damien looking back to the audience brandishing a subtle grin during his parents’ funeral. It is one of the creepiest shots ever filmed.

The film isn’t tongue-in-cheek; it takes itself seriously. We buy into the moral dilemma that Thorn faces with dealing with his wife’s growing coldness and distance towards her little boy. Halfway through the film, she slips into depression and suspects Damien isn’t even her son. Does Thorn tell her the truth? Should he? Thorn faces another challenge with the unraveling lore he and Jennings uncover, assuring him that his son is the one marked by evil. Recall “Revelation 13:18” from earlier. The ending is a bit ambiguous by never giving us the straight answer to the question: Is Damien really the antichrist? Towards the film’s climax, the infamous birthmark – three 6s warped together, the number of the beast – is discovered on Damien’s scalp by Thorn. At long last, we are convinced. But a production note from director Donner intended the actual answer of Damien’s identity to be cryptic. All overt supernatural elements were removed from the script. This allowed the film’s events to transpire with a pretense of realism. The only spooky staples left in were the meta-omen photos developed in Jennings’ darkroom; photographs bearing strange lines, shadowing, and marks around the bodies of the original nanny, Father Brennan, and Jennings himself telegraphing their demise.

The Omen opened in June of 1976, making $4 million its first weekend. It would eventually close out with $60 million in total receipts. A strength of The Omen’s success was its powerful and haunting score by Jerry Goldsmith. The score was unique with its Latin choir vocalizations and shrieking staccato movements, giving the film’s horror within purpose and agency. It would earn the only Oscar for both the film and for composer Goldsmith (who, at that point, had an illustrious film-composing career peppered only with Academy Award losses). The haunting ending with Damien smirking paid off as well. Two sequels also followed. Later, a 2006 remake was made as well as an adapted television series (Damien).

While, arguably, one of the biggest topics discussed about The Omen is the strange and mysterious events surrounding production, I won’t be discussing that here. If this part is new to you, the skinny version is that The Omen was besieged by tragedy and problems during filming. Lightning strikes, bombings, fires, deaths and near-deaths dotted the lives of the cast and crew. These events have undoubtedly strengthened the interest and notoriety of the film. If this piques your curiosity, the Shudder series Cursed Films does a remarkable job dissecting and studying the plagued incidents of The Omen production.

Now, pushing five decades in the pantheon of horror, The Omen still casts a big shadow. I’ve watched this film many times, and I still get creeped out at certain beats. Production values from the 1970s can look dated in the eyes of contemporary movie goers, and The Omen isn’t immune to age. But despite those issues, the questions that The Omen asks are still interesting to sift through and ponder. I would attest that this film helped close out the supernatural horror cycle in the 1970s. This soon made way for the new cash-grabs of ‘80s slasher/final girl motifs, ‘90s teen horror, and found-footage horror of the ‘00s (with a touch of vampire/zombie renaissance thrown in). But supernatural films in the vein of those ‘70s hits continued to find themselves cropping up throughout every cycle, well into the present.

And the question of whether good defeats evil in these battle-for-salvation films hasn’t so much been answered as it has been exploited in these later entries. The majority of the recent good vs evil scary flicks only offer shock. They haven’t come close to presenting tough choices in the face of such evil like The Omen does. To make a viewer jump? That’s easy. But to make a viewer think? That is scary.