If you thought babysitting was tough, try stopping the birth of the Antichrist. The First Omen sweeps you into a visually lush 1970s Rome, serving up a sumptuous feast for the eyes that’s as stylish as it is shadowy. Although you might find yourself guessing the twists before they unfurl, the film keeps its grip with a dark, rich portrayal of evil’s origins. It’s all for you, Damien.
“[The First Omen serves] up a sumptuous feast for the eyes that’s as stylish as it is shadowy.”
From the opening scenes, the film devilishly dazzles with a rich color palette that superbly captures the eerie 1970s Rome, replete with political unrest, religious skepticism and foreboding religious iconography. The grandeur of the Eternal City is captured in sweeping vistas, which, combined with a robust orchestral score, elevates the production value to a level that’s a rarity in modern horror flicks. There’s a sense of doom painted in every scene.
The First Omen centers on Margaret Daino, a devout American novitiate (essentially a nun in training) played brilliantly by Nell Tiger Free. She finds herself entangled in a chilling narrative as she cares for Carlita (Nicole Sorace), a mysterious orphan haunted by dark visions. As the story unfolds, Margaret uncovers a horrific plot designed to instigate the apocalypse through the birth of the Antichrist. Oh boy, that’s going to be a lot of ‘Hail Mary’s’.
Stevenson, who cut her teeth on the third season of Syfy’s Channel Zero and Netflix’s Brand New Cherry Flavor, brings a strong visual style that borders on arthouse. It’s her keen eye for moody, atmospheric shots that keep the film from devolving into just another sequel. The overall mood is deliciously dark, perfectly mirroring the franchise’s legacy.
However, as much as the film succeeds in aesthetics and scares, it falters in its storytelling. The First Omen doesn’t exactly break new cursed ground. The plot is easily unravelled and never succesfully stays ahead of its audience, which is disappointing given the rich tapestry Stevenson has dressed it in. As viewers, we are acutely aware that we are galloping towards the birth of the Antichrist, and to whom and why are pretty easily deducable. Thus, the attempts to shroud the storyline in mystery come off as unnecessary and somewhat tedious.
The film’s plot struggles under the weight of its own legacy. The callbacks to the original The Omen (1976) feel like compulsory nods rather than meaningful connections, moments that shocked in 1976 are regurgitated here in a way that screams “producer’s note”. Moreover, the ending of The First Omen is as open as a never-ending abyss, clearly setting up for further sequels. This lack of closure might leave some viewers unsatisfied, craving a definitive conclusion rather than a bridge to yet another installment.
Despite these narrative missteps, the performances shine devilishly bright. Nell Tiger Free, as Margaret, delivers a compelling portrayal of piety and horror, driving the film with her quest for the unsettling truth. Her transition from a naïve novitiate to a woman ensnared in a demonic conspiracy is gripping. Bill Nighy, our ageless wonder, adds a layer of gravitas as Cardinal Lawrence, proving that his presence is always a blessing. Meanwhile, Ralph Ineson, though given a role that’s heavy on exposition and light on depth, manages to leave a memorable mark.
“The overall mood is deliciously dark, perfectly mirroring the franchise’s legacy.”
In conclusion, The First Omen is a solid addition to the Omen saga. It beautifully captures the franchise’s atmospheric tension and aesthetic, and is buoyed by strong performances and high production values. While the story itself may not offer many surprises, the journey through Stevenson’s moody and brooding Rome is worth the price of admission. For fans of the franchise and newcomers alike, this film offers a captivating—if somewhat foreseen—dive into the dark depths of religious horror. So, grab your holy water and join Margaret on her daunting quest—just don’t expect to be completely surprised by where it leads.
