Starring
Gregory Peck, Lee Remick, David Warner, Billie Whitelaw, Harvey
Stephens, Patrick Throughton. Directed by Richard Donner. (1976, 111
min).
Essay
by D.M. ANDERSON
It
was near the end of sixth grade when The Omen crept onto my
radar. Before that, 666 was simply the number which followed 665.
The trailer was spooky as hell, as was the appearance of the title itself in the newspaper ads, with three sixes symbolically stamped inside the 'O'. I didn't
know what it meant, or what the movie was even about, but those
numbers were intriguingly ominous.
This
was also the time when puke colored Pee-Chees were the school
folder of choice for many kids. There were handy math &
science tips located on the inside pockets (the
multiplication chart is the only reason I still remember that 12 x 12
equals 144), and generic illustrations of high school athletes which practically begged for afro enhancement or arrows in their heads. And we all knew someone who revised 'Pee-Chee All Season
Portfolio' to read, 'Kissing is Pee-Chee, but sex is an all season
sport.'
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| The perfect canvas |
There
was also plenty of empty space left to scribble band
logos, expletives or the name of your current crush. Ever the movie
fanatic, I used to draw titles and tag lines all over my
Pee-Chee the way my peers painstakingly drew the KISS logo on
theirs. When The Omen came out, I drew those sixes with a red marker as accurately as I could. I still didn't know what they meant, but man, it looked cool. The girl seated next to me, Suzanne,
saw it and issued this dire warning: "That's the Devil's number!
You're gonna go to Hell for that!"
Even
though I told her it was from a movie, she went and informed the
teacher, Mrs. Swanson, who was apparently unconcerned that I had just
damned myself. She simply told the Suzanne to sit back down and
reminded me get back to reducing my fractions (which none of my Pee-Chee charts could help me with).
Suzanne's
comment, and the fact she thought my actions were blasphemous enough
to rat me out, weighed heavily on me. The Devil's number? Oh, man, what have I done? On the plus side, Suzanne didn't talk to me for the
remainder of the year. She was a sanctimonious little shit who went
on become an equally sanctimonious cheerleader in high school (I know, because she refused to go out with me).
 |
| "Ahhhhhhhh!" |
Now
that I knew 666 was associated with Ol' Scratch himself, my
sixth-grade mind deduced that The Omen must not only be scary,
but evil. I'd seen horror movies before, but never one that
suggested I'd risk my soul just watching it. For an impressionable
youth like me, that meant only one thing: challenge accepted!
When
the movie opened at the nearby Southgate Quad later that summer, a
few friends and I cheerfully peddled our bikes toward damnation.
Since The Omen was rated R, we further-tarnished our souls by
sneaking into this one after buying tickets for one of the PG movies
playing there.
In
The Omen, Gregory Peck is Robert Thorn, the American
ambassador in England with his pregnant wife, Katherine (Lee Remick). After Robert is told their baby was stillborn - and Katherine was apparently kept out of the loop - a creepy priest
suggests replacing it with another newborn whose mother just died. Robert agrees to raise it as his own to avoid breaking Katherine's heart.
The Thorns lead an idyllic life until bizarre things
begin to happen: their nanny hangs herself, baboons go apeshit (no
pun intended) in Damien's presence and the kid freaks out whenever he
gets near a church. A few folks figure out Damien is actually the
Antichrist, but most die before they can convince the Thorns.
Those spectacular death scenes were a big draw for The Omen
back then, including the iconic onscreen decapitation by a wayward
pane of glass, which certainly wasn't something you saw everyday, even in a horror film.
As
Robert begins to suspect Damien might be behind more nasty doings than simply soiling some diapers, he and photographer Keith Jennings
(David Warner) do some investigating. They learn Damien's arrival was
foretold in the Book of Revelations and has been watched over and
protected from birth by Satanists, including their new nanny, the
family dog (bad dog, indeed) and the priest who suggested the baby swap in the first
place.
After
Katherine is killed, Robert realizes Damien must die. The only way to
kill the Antichrist is to stab him in a church with seven holy
daggers. Robert drags Damien kicking & screaming to the alter,
but just as he's about to use the first dagger, he is shot and killed
by police.
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| What to Expect When You're Expecting an Evil Little Bastard |
If
you know anything about how movies work, you also know I haven't really provided any
spoilers. First of all, the title of the first sequel, Damien:
Omen II, gives away the fact the kid lives. Not only that,
killing children onscreen remains mostly taboo by major studios,
even if the character is a spawn of Satan. No way in hell would 20th
Century Fox ever release a potential summer blockbuster that ends
with a legendary & beloved icon like Gregory Peck stabbing a five year old seven
times.
Maybe
for people who take the Bible literally (like Suzanne), The Omen
and its Cliff's Notes depiction of the Antichrist might be considered
evil, especially since evil wins. Other than Rosemary's Baby,
there weren't too many other mainstream horror films where the devil emerges triumphant. That bleak, foreboding
resolution was a big part of what made The Omen pretty scary.
Unlike
the esoteric dread of Rosemary's Baby or The Exorcist's
existential crises, The Omen's brand
of evil was easy to digest and instantly identifiable...just
check your kid's scalp the same way you'd check for lice. If you spot
three sixes, he's gonna destroy the world and must therefore die.
Until Star Wars came along, the conflict between good and evil
didn't get any simpler than that.
The
Omen's impact on popular culture was significant, particularly
its use of the number 666. Many of us those who never even
cracked open a Bible suddenly saw "the devil's number"
everywhere...in UPC codes, on street addresses and Black Sabbath
album covers (of course). People even wanted to change their phone
numbers to avoid being stuck with 666 prefixes. The number was scary and intriguing at the
same time.
In
1982, Iron Maiden released their classic song, "The Number of
the Beast," complete with a paraphrased spoken-word intro from
the Book of Revelations. Bassist/songwriter Steve Harris was inspired
by Damien: Omen II, which gave him nightmares (officially
making him the only person ever scared by Omen II). These were the good ol' days when "Satanic Panic" had puritanic parents and watchdogs more concerned with protecting impressionable youth
from falling in league with the devil than teaching them to practice safe sex. While
other bands were long-suspected of putting subliminal shout-outs to Satan
in their music, here was Iron Maiden screaming it on-high right in
the fucking chorus:
Six...six
six!
The
Number of the Beast;
Hell...and
fire
Was
spawned to be released!
Compared to the black metal bands who'd later ooze out of Norway, Maiden's
demonic noodlings sound as harmless as a Pat Boone record. But at the time,
these guys displayed some epic balls to put that shit right out-front for the world to hear. Hell, a tiny part of me
feared for my soul for simply enjoying it. That song and its
blasphemously catchy chorus briefly made Iron Maiden the most
terrifying band in the world. Ironically, anyone who actually took
the time to read the lyrics would realize they weren't promoting
Satanism at all.
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| "I feel pretty...oh, so pretty..." |
The
Omen's legacy doesn't stop
there. For years after it was released, the very name, Damien,
epitomized evil to people who thought a lot like Suzanne. They'd point out that it
sounds like demon, and some idiots believed it actually meant "son of the
devil." Nearly 20 years later, when my wife and I were expecting our first
child and pondering baby names, she flat-out refused to consider
Damien when I suggested it. Because of its sinister connection to the
movie, she didn't want any kid of ours strapped with that kind of cultural baggage. Though I was initially dejected, it turned out to be a moot point since we had a girl (we named her Medusa, though it's spelled N-A-T-A-L-I-E).
Actually,
despite its evil implications, the name dramatically increased in popularity after its use in
both The Exorcist and
The Omen. That could
be a coincidence, of course, but while I'm sure some folks were
inspired by The Exorcist's
Father Damien's existentially-troubled character, it's safe to assume
more-than-a-few twisted couples chose it because of a blue-eyed
toddler who tried to kill his mother with a tricycle.
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| "I don't wanna go to gramma's house! It smells old there!" |
Of
course, all things fade with time and we're more than a generation
removed from The Omen's
insidious cultural influence. Only the most literal-minded zealots
still piss themselves when accosted by three sixes. Not even a pointless
remake of the film (premiering with considerable studio hype on June 6, 2006
at 6:06:06 in the morning) could restore the number to its former
evil glory. To this generation, Iron Maiden's most notorious song is
simply a challenging level in the Guitar Hero
video game. The name of Damien is no longer synonymous with the
Antichrist (I would say Donald has that distinction right now). People are currently more familiar with
Damian Lillard than Damien Thorn. As a teacher in the real world, I
recently had a boy in my class named Damien. A nice kid, but when I once
made a joking Omen reference regarding his name, he appeared to have no clue what I was
talking about (or maybe I just wasn't very fuckin' funny).
All
that being said, The Omen
gave many kids of my generation a terrifying introduction to the devil,
albeit a simplistic one (much like kids from the 1950s who learned
about Moses from The Ten Commandments). The movie has actually aged pretty well, though. Its creative methods of
human demise may seem rather quaint to those raised on Final Destination, but the foreboding tone
and atmosphere (helped immeasurably by Jerry Goldsmith's
Oscar-winning score) hasn't been equaled by too many supernatural
horror films since.
