This obligatory sequel to The Omen is a rather classical film in
many regards, relying on a strong script carried out by a strong cast to sell a
formulaic, underwhelming narrative to the masses. The locales are grandiose and
the soundtrack is memorable, but unfortunately, the unfolding of the narrative
is rather laborious and the efficiency of the thrills questionable. Despite a
strong beginning, the screenplay becomes increasingly underwhelming as time
elapses, mostly because the titular Antichrist is characterized far beyond the
scope of his dramatic usefulness. The end result is a film that will go down in
history for two things: its elaborate “murder by circumstances” sequences that
will later become a staple of the Final
Destination series, and the redundant usage of Latin lyrics to convey the
idea of a Satanic presence.
Elaborate kill scenes are some of the
film's most prominent assets.
Seven years after his father’s attempt on
his life, Antichrist Damien Thorn has grown into a strapping young lad under
the guidance of his filthy-rich uncle. Now living in Chicago, where he attends
military school under the tutelage of Lance Henriksen, the 12 year-old boy
seems innocuous enough, unaware that some of his gnarly powers are actually an
inheritance from the Desolate One. We thus get to see him grow up while a bunch
of hysterical secondary characters try vainly to stop… whatever he is doing.
There’s a journalist who has her eyes pecked out by a raging crow, a museum
official who gets crushed by an incoming train, and a doctor who gets sliced by
a metal wire, all of them dying just for us to be re-told what was made
explicit in the very first sequence, namely that Damien is the Antichrist. In
the end, everybody dies and the mischievous kid is left standing, ready to take
on the sequel…
The opening sequence of the film is quite
incredible, with some exhilarating tracking shots capturing a zealous
archeologist’s mad drive through the narrow streets of Acre (in Israel). The
exotic locales and the man’s sheer eagerness to share his most recent discovery
with a fellow explorer immediately draw us into an exciting world where
mythology comes alive. The following scene, in which the two men lose their
lives near Yigael’s wall, where Damien’s face is depicted as that of the
Antichrist, is equally engrossing. Unfortunately, the pace drops drastically
after that, and the historical details surrounding the birth of Damien are
revealed to be a superficial way to keep the story afloat, with the bulk of the
narrative interested solely in killing off meddling third parties for show.
Damien's opening sequence is awesome.
Unfortunately, the film goes downhill from there.
Luckily, the “show” is quite good as most
kills are masterfully choreographed, with savvy editing allowing them to unfold
with some real intensity. Unfortunately, these kills are often meaningless from
a dramatic standpoint, neither creating affect, nor forwarding the plot in any
significant way. This results from a dubious politic of identification that
deflates any real sense of dread emanating from the titular character. At once,
we are supposed to feel sympathetic for Damien’s uncle, a “responsible”
industrialist undisturbed by his brother’s murder attempt on his nephew, but we
are also asked to feel sympathetic for Damien himself, in the arduous process
of assuming his monstrosity. So there is no bad guy. There are only circumstances.
And crows with murderous designs. Even when Damien is miles away from a victim
to be, there’s always a minion ready to carry out the will of his father. So,
you’ll know exactly when a kill is coming, making both your sympathy for the victims and any sense of suspense deriving from their deaths null and void. All of this prefigures the Final Destination series in a disturbing
way, further pointing out the shortcomings of said series.
As far as symbolism goes, the equation
between ruthless capitalism and the politics of the Netherworld is very
interesting, but not sustained. When Paul, a dynamic entrepreneur at the head
of Thorn industries, decides to launch a program for acquiring agricultural
land to better showcase the potential of the company’s fertilizers and
insecticides, shades of Monsanto are immediately summoned. The perspective of a
monopolistic grasp on food industries is chilling enough that it makes the
association with pure evil perfectly relevant. With Paul later being compared
to Damien himself, we are fast imagining the young man in a padded leather
armchair, staring at the cityscape from the bay window in his office, smiling
contently as Latin lyrics pulsate on the soundtrack. But that never happens, as
the story sluggishly unfolds, twisting and turning toward no definite
destination, but rather reveling in incessant repetition. Thanks to a rushed
finale bonified by a last-minute, and highly dubious, act of treason, the
narrative is abruptly cut short, with nothing to reflect on but the perspective
of yet another sequel. It’s like watching the cliffhanger from a TV show you
don’t even like.
Damien is ready to take on the sequel...
whether or not you care.
Damien’s only saving grace, aside from the
occasional showcase of elaborate bloodletting, lie in its highly capable cast,
gorgeous locales and classic soundtrack. In William Holden and young Jonathan
Scott-Taylor, perfectly cast as the kindhearted patriarch and bright-eyed
mischief-maker respectively, we have two actors who manage to create engrossing
figures from excessively flawed characters. There’s even the great Sylvia
Sidney doing her thing as the obligatory suspicious aunt and a very young Lance
Henriksen, as phlegmatic as ever in the role of a jaded military man. As for
the opulent surroundings home to the Thorn family (including a lakeside villa
where a fatidic hockey game is played), they contribute both a certain nobility
to the characters (reminiscent of Gregory Peck’s from the original film) and a
sense of wonder for us poor mortals. By toying with the conventions of the
coming-of-age film, Damien allows us to indulge in the young man’s life as if
it were our own. It’s a dream of sorts, a dream of being the true Antichrist
Superstar. As for the soundtrack by Jerry Goldsmith, it is certainly the film’s
most lasting feature, a testament to the power of liturgy in creating powerful
mythological implications. Unfortunately, it is also far too heavy-handed and
over-used to make it an asset per se.
There’s a fun vintage quality to Damien as
a foray into the world of a nearly aristocratic family. The wooden interiors of
the lakeside villa and the quiet nobility of Holden’s character all possess a
certain timeless quality toward which one will be drawn. Unfortunately, the
film is botched, thanks to a lousy screenplay that manages to create very
little real drama and fails to tap into some intriguing ideas. The biggest flaw
therein is in constantly highlighting facts about Damien, which are plainly
explained in scene 1, and by completely disregarding any true sense of angst as
to the fate of any character. All of this actually tend to push the film away
from the horror genre, momentarily reconciling with its imagery during the kill
scenes, but never managing to create affect, the greatest tenet of said genre.
The result is entirely watchable, but not a classic, or a must-see by any
stretch of the imagination.
By depicting the coming-of-age of Satan's spawn, Damien
prompts dreams of Antichrist Superstardom.
2 1/2
Good actors, gorgeous locales and a classic soundtrack cannot really
elevate a film with such an underwhelming narrative.
