The Omen [reviewed by Jori]

111 min., 1976
Directed by Richard Donner
My rating:
IMDB

Not as scary, considering modern kids are far worse than Damien could ever hope to be.

* * *

Have I ever mentioned that I was raised Catholic? (Because I did my time, Catholic school and all.) This is only slightly relevant because as a child I loved this movie and it actually creeped me out (the son of the devil? Eek!). Unfortunately, time has not been kind to one of my favorite childhood films.

Katherine Thorn’s (Lee Remick) baby was stillborn, and since this would devastate her (being a weak willed woman after all) her loving husband Ambassador Robert Thorn (Gregory Peck) has allowed a priest to convince him to deceive her by adopting a newborn child and pretending it is their own. (Ah, true love.) Of course things are never that simple, and predictably things go horribly wrong when he comes to the realization that Damien (Harvey Stephens) is the son of the devil. (And apparently, the devil is into bestiality. Go figure.)

Much like Rosemary’s Baby, The Omen is a slow moving film–like taking a stroll through quicksand. The whole point of the show is the slow build up of tension, and it falls flat quite a few times. We already know there is something wrong and having to watch everyone take forever to figure it out gets tiring. It doesn’t help that the acting is horrendous.

Gregory Peck and Lee Remick had the chemistry of a crab holding a remote–it’s hard to buy them as a loving couple when it’s painfully obvious that they can’t stand the thought of having to touch each other. The main problem is that Peck is a stage actor from the good old days–it doesn’t translate as well on film, especially when the role calls for subtlety. He overdid the subtle part and ended up with no facial expressions at all. (On a side note, he has the most entrancing voice. I could hear him speak forever, he just sounds so…dignified. I can see how he became so famous.) If you add Remick’s sniveling broad who can’t figure out what it means to be a mother, we are treated to a train wreck. It’s hard to sympathize with extremely unlikeable characters that we’re supposed to care for. Luckily for us, all is not lost. Patrick Troughton (the second incarnation of the Doctor from Doctor Who) was great as the resident crazy priest character. If he was a little bit overzealous in his role he should be forgiven, because I think he was just trying to make up for Peck’s lackluster Thorn. Billie Whitlow as Mrs. Baylock, Damien’s Satanic nanny, was outstanding. She was effectively creepy without being so obvious. (While we’re on the subject of nannies: WTF is up with Mrs. Thorn? You don’t work, you’re home all day and yet you can’t manage to figure out how to take care of your own child? Seriously. Is it any wonder your child seems “different?”)

Perhaps what pissed me off the most (because this movie just pissed me off) was the awful score. Let’s make everything LOUD, and dramatic to make up for the lack of anything else going on in the film. Sigh, I feel like a broken record already, but it has to be said. Keep your fingers on the volume button because we have a bad case of soft dialogue with overpowering music. As the great Peter Griffin once said “…it insists upon itself.” (Double points if you know what I’m referring to!)

Overall this was a big disappointment. Aside from one really cool shot in the beginning and the talents of Mr. Troughton and Ms. Whitlow, there is nothing else that lives up to its reputation as a “classic.” It was great for the time, I can acknowledge the impact it had. But the test of a true classic lies in its ability to remain relevant no matter what era you watch it in. (Another reason I can’t consider this a sacred classic: look carefully during the dog attack scene at the graveyard, you can see what I assume to be the dog handlers hiding in the bushes.) This didn’t give me the chills, it just made me question the audacity of people who insist on having children when they clearly aren’t capable of handling the responsibility. (Hint: If your child is an arm’s length away from you and you have to call the nanny from a different room to shut the kid up–you shouldn’t ever be allowed to breed.)

• The Tattooist [reviewed by Jori]
  [2 stars] The equivalent of a tramp stamp...a really cool tramp stamp.
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  [3 stars] "And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover to entertain these fair well-spoken days, I am determined to prove a villain, and hate the idle pleasures of these days."
• Dead Bodies Everywhere [reviewed by Jori]
  3 stars: Someone needs to give these guys money to make a professional film!