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‘The First Omen’ Review: Nunsensical fun

The First Omen
20th Century Studios

Barring any rights issues that I’m unaware of, it is fucking weird that it took this long in this age of horror reboots, prequels, sequels, and legacyquels for anyone to do anything with the Omen franchise. Perhaps it’s because you can eventually just get to the same point without the branding – after all, it’s not like Richard Donner and company trademarked the idea of the “creepy/evil child” when they rolled that first picture out back in ’76 in the aftermath of other heavily-catholic horror flicks like The Exorcist bringing home the bacon – and there’s not too much to do aside from remake the first one (which they did in 2006, premiering the movie on June 6 in Hell, Texas) or, God forbid, make a movie about an adult Damien actually bringing the world to an end (which they also already did back in the ‘80s with Sam Neill before copping out in the final moments). But finally, 18 years after that last reboot (Jesus fucking Christ), Arkasha Stevenson’s The First Omen is here to take audiences inside the unholy birth of the Antichrist, and, as an attempt to give CPR to a franchise on Life Support, it does a pretty good job of finding the rhythm once again. Moreover, as Stevenson’s debut feature, it’s an absurdly competent and well-done mid-budget horror flick, announcing her arrival on the studio genre scene with all the self-assured gall of a stunting Ric Flair.

One oft-forgotten aspect of the Omen franchise is that a conspiracy is afoot to get Damien into the halls of power. It’s kind of dull to assume that the group of frustrated Catholics trying to get long-haired Italian hippies to remember their place (and that their tithes accumulate interest) simply found the Antichrist in some hospital before whoopsy-doodling the child’s way into Gregory Peck’s mournful arms. Much like Immaculate, The First Omen is about one American nun who finds her way into the depths of this rogue sect of Cardinals, Bishops, and Mothers Superior after heading to Italy to begin her service to the Lord. Margaret (Nell Tiger Free, best known to Letterboxd users as Janey in Nic Refn’s Too Old to Die Young) is a young woman with a troubled past – she grew up an orphan, suffering abuse at the hands of nuns convinced her seeing of visions was most likely mental illness and not a Jeanne d’Arc revelation – who found security and safety in God and steered by the hand of a kindly Cardinal (Bill Nighy) into taking a vow. She arrives in Italy to teach at an orphanage much like the one she grew up in. It’s a swell little environment for her, until she starts to discover that there’s a troubled girl there, suffering from conditions much like the ones that she did – visions, hauntings, the whole lot – and that the nuns are behaving similarly. Not wanting to rock the boat, she deals with the girl compassionately but at a distance until Father Brennan (the golden-voiced Ralph Ineson) tells her of the true conspiracy afoot. None of them know the key role that she has to play in all of this.

I get it – after reading that little summary, you’re probably saying to yourself Wait, I already paid to see Immaculate last weekend, and you’re telling me that I should go and check this out even though it seems like it’s the exact same goddamn movie? And it’s true; the movies have that Delta Force-slash-Rambo: First Blood Part II similarity to them, even though I doubt there was any actual malfeasance here. Immaculate remains a pretty good example of how to do this story on a limited budget with a compelling star/producer combo, and The First Omen is proof of how to do this shit with a solid amount of cash behind the production and major distribution. The movie’s scope is surprisingly vast – the amount of period-appropriate detail here ain’t fucking cheap window dressing (just look at all of those classic ’71 Italian cars lining the streets). It also is able to go places that Immaculate just can’t, and Stevenson uses that cash to bring about some truly horrifying and metal-as-fuck imagery to the screen. There’s a whole tableau of bitterly gross birthing going on here, drawn with stomach-churning vividity. If you thought it was gross that Sydney Sweeney had to pull off a fingernail or lose a tooth now and then, well, you might not want to load up on popcorn during the previews or at least let your seatmates know that they’re sitting in the splash zone. It’s used sparingly enough over the two hours to never be fully overwhelming, but when the gore hits, it’s some ugly, shocking shit that will make anybody in the crowd wearing a Slayer shirt toss up the horns.

One can say a lot about the Omen movies, but they’ve never exactly been beacons of brevity – The First Omen strains itself a bit to hit the two-hour mark, chasing down each strand of the conspiracy with red herrings aplenty – yet Stevenson makes the problem of the prequel work in this instance. Even though we know there’s gonna be an Antichrist birthed by the time the credits roll, there’s a strong enough central character and an even stronger mystery at its core that makes for engaging viewing. Stevenson recognizes the myriad ways that this enterprise could fail, and goes about it with an appropriate amount of respect (“It’s all for you,” etc.) while doing her own studio-elevated-horror style within the franchise’s framework. The resulting resolution offers a kind of B-story to the rise of Damien that could be pursued to interesting ends, should this do well enough to warrant a sequel.

It’s kind of the perfect way to craft lore – when a storyteller is asked a question that they are certain nobody really wants to know the answer to, they have two options. The first is to not tell that story in the first place, which is usually the best decision. But if 20th Century Studios’ financials demand it be answered, a smart filmmaker can answer it in a way that expands the perimeters of the whole narrative itself. And, even better, when you’re working with a franchise like this, it’s not particularly hard to beat the wins-over-replacement metrics. If The First Omen kicks off a new era of Antichrist-among-us stories, it won’t be because audiences were clamoring for more Damien – it’ll be because Stevenson delivered an absurdly accomplished horror flick when no one expected anything at all.