The Omen is a mesmerizing satanic ritual about the Antichrist’s human reincarnation, inducing trembles with every revelation. The film follows ambitious politician Robert Thorn (Gregory Peck) as he and his wife Katherine (Lee Remick) raise their increasingly troubling child, Damien (Harvey Spencer Stephens). Unbeknownst to Katherine, Damien is neither she nor Robert’s biological kid. On the night of his birth in Rome, Katherine delivered a stillborn baby, to which Robert gets directed to another baby in the hospital whose mother died at the same time. The overlooking priest, deeming this an act of God, begs Robert Robert to adopt the child. Robert does so without telling his wife their actual kid died. As Damien grows, however, Katherine realizes he’s not her child and, along with Robert, suspects he’s, in fact, the opposite of God’s miracle—His damnation. Threats intensify, the body count grows, and Hell hounds and a guardian disguised as a nanny in Mrs. Baylock (Billie Whitelaw) get sent to protect Damien. Robert and Katherine must put their demon son down before he offs them.

Humans are easily corruptible. History shows time and again how self(ish)-interest prioritized the institutionally powerful can become; Julius Caesar, Richard Nixon, and the entire English royal family are some. Some also use power for purely malicious intent, such as Adolf Hitler in World War II. The Omen’s central conundrum is thus not only a bone-chilling horror story about Satan’s Earthly takeover but a prime example of how unchallenging the effort is. At one point, one of the priests present at Damien’s birth, Father Brennan (Patrick Troughton), warns Robert of his and his wife’s fate after suspecting his first nanny hung herself publicly upon Damien’s unspoken command: “He’s killed once, he’ll kill again. He’ll kill everything until what’s yours is his.” This way Damien can climb up the political ladder to make his “false kingdom, getting his power directly from Satan.” The film carries an invisible sense of self-condemnation, showing the terror Damien and his hench-demons instill with little human pushback; Satan doesn’t have to do much to turn people against each other. Just send a human form of himself in another politically parented child’s place, and natural human reactivity takes care of the rest. These circumstances beg audiences: Are humans too far gone already? Could the resurrection be avoided if systems were more just, or could Damien be restricted because of said justness? If Man is corruptible but made in God’s image, is God imperfect? The Omen is strongest in the buildup, demonstrating such questions and sinister planning through a kid’s innocent (piercing) green pupils.

Peck as Robert is also subtly magnetic, so watching him slowly unravel evil plans from literal devils is anxiety-inducing at the least, seat-edging at best. While Omen‘s political themes could be pushed much further through a denser Robert—perhaps demonstrating why he and his wife are perfect demon-inheriting candidates through shady ambassadorship necessities or other typical corruption behavior—it’s unsettling without death, frightening with it. Thus, The Omen is more often than not a dystopian flick about the Antichrist’s disturbing but relatively unhindered rise. The film could get theatrical in actual kill scenes—Father Brennan, step aside!—but thanks to plentiful takes from Omen‘s cast, an eerie atmosphere, intense unfolding, and a few clever Biblical twists, it’s a thrill ride of scares and scars.

Screens Saturday, 10/5, 11:59 pm @ Coolidge Corner Theatre
Part of the ongoing repertory series: After Midnite