Editorials
You Have Been Warned: ‘The Omen’ Turns 45
By the early 1970s, the counterculture of the previous decade had begun to disperse. Some, weary of what they saw as ineffective nonviolent revolution, became militant. Others withdrew from society altogether into communal life. Still others, having waded through the many spiritual and philosophical options of the 60s, found religion. The so-called Jesus Movement appealed to many hippies because it rejected old-fashioned institutional religion and focused on modeling itself on its image of the early church as led by Jesus and his followers in the first century CE. Along with this fascination with Christ and the early days of Christianity came an interest in the devil, demons, possession, the Antichrist, and the end of days. Around the same time, Hollywood was undergoing a revolution of its own and “religious horror” became a popular subgenre of the period due to this fascination. The un-holy trinity of these, the films that continue to stand above the rest in influence and notoriety are Rosemary’s Baby (1968), The Exorcist (1973), and The Omen (1976).
After seeing The Exorcist, producer Harvey Bernhard approached screenwriter David Seltzer with an idea. Bernhard told Seltzer that he felt the time was ripe for another horror story that dealt with religion and the devil. Though not particularly a fan of the genre, Seltzer needed a job and began researching the project by reading the Bible, something he had never really done before. He became fascinated with the text, particularly the final book of Revelation, of which he read approximately twelve different translations along with several interpretive texts. As he studied, the story elements of what became The Omen began to emerge. He coupled this with the idea of the story having an innocent villain, a child that was not aware that he was the son of Satan and ignorant of his powers. Seltzer sought to depict the devil from a psychological rather than literal perspective by infusing enough doubt into the script to imply that Damien may in fact not be the Antichrist.
The interpretation of Revelation most employed in The Omen is dispensationalism, an eschatology (study of the end times) that came to prominence during the Second Great Awakening of the nineteenth century and popularized in the modern era by Hal Lindsey among other prophecy pundits. Beginning with his books The Late, Great Planet Earth (1970) and Satan is Alive and Well on Planet Earth (1972), Lindsey was a veritable cottage industry of end times prophecy long before the phenomenon of the Left Behind series popularized the teachings yet again in the early 2000s. Even the fact that Lindsey predicted the end of the world in 1988 did not hamper his popularity when the ball dropped in Times Square to ring in 1989. Despite constantly moving targets for the apocalypse like this, dispensationalism remains the most popular interpretation of Revelation in evangelical Christianity. Put simply, it is a brand of Biblical interpretation that posits a seven-year tribulation before the physical return of Christ, presided over by a powerful antichrist that is literally the son of Satan. Natural fodder for a scary movie.
After the script was finished, it was shopped around to several studios before landing on the desk of Alan Ladd, Jr. of 20th Century Fox. He was intrigued by the script and contacted his friend Richard Donner about directing it. Up until then, Donner had been a very successful television director, helming memorable episodes of The Twilight Zone, Get Smart, and Kojak among many others, but his film career had failed to launch. He was also taken with the ideas of the script, then called Antichrist and later Birthmark, but sought to shape it into something more grounded. Donner worked with Seltzer to remove some of the more fantastical elements, such as a Satanic coven that watched over the child and cloven hooved creatures in the graveyard scene, to make the story more believable and appealing to an increasingly skeptical population of filmgoers. Donner latched onto the psychological themes of the film and focused on the suspense and mystery of the project when bringing it to the screen. As he would do with Superman in 1978, he brought a great deal of verisimilitude to a story that many would otherwise find completely outlandish.
Donner’s insistence on these changes brought about one of the most powerful elements of the film in that it can be interpreted in multiple ways. In one reading, Damien really is the Antichrist and the efforts of Robert Thorne (Gregory Peck) and Keith Jennings (David Warner) are completely justified. Father Brennan (Patrick Troughton) is a hero who gives his life to save the world and Mrs. Baylock (Billie Whitelaw) is a minion of Satan, sworn to protect Damien from all who would seek to harm him. This is the literal interpretation and there is plenty of evidence to confirm it, from the strange flaws in the photographs, to animals acting strangely around the boy, to the 666 birthmark.
In another, more psychological interpretation, Damien is not the son of the devil, and the strange happenings can be chalked up to coincidence. The problems with the photos could be flaws in the film or related to the moment that Thorne bumps into Jennings and he drops his camera. Sometimes animals just don’t react well to certain people. Mrs. Baylock, a faithful adherent of a cult of the Antichrist, could be planting suggestions in Damien’s mind leading to his agitation and attack of his mother during the car ride to the church. Even the deaths could be simply strange occurrences. After all, people die in bizarre freak accidents all the time. Perhaps Thorne and Jennings are looking for patterns and and see them where there are none due to ideas planted in their minds by the unhinged religious zealot, Father Brennan.
If Damien is the Antichrist, he survives to devastate the world. In the process, he has destroyed those who would oppose him along the way, even if he is unaware of his powers. If he is not, Robert Thorne has gone insane from grief and paranoia, and a child is nearly murdered by his own father. He has chosen to believe a lie and allowed his rage and fear to blind him to reality. In either instance, the film is a tragedy.
Beyond the devil and the end of days, The Omen is about something far more universal: the fears of parenthood. Parents often fear that, despite their best efforts, their child could grow up to perform horrible acts. Worse, they could be the cause of their child doing or even becoming evil because of their words or actions. The simple question of “will this stupid thing I said screw up my kid?” are not rare among parents, especially those who truly care about the well-being of their children. Then there is the question directly asked by the film: what if the child I believe is mine is not really my child?
After Damien’s nanny hangs herself at his birthday party, Kathy Thorne (Lee Remick) begins to suspect that he is somehow “alien” and “evil.” She has a deep feeling, a motherly instinct perhaps, that he is not really hers. As the audience learns at the beginning of the film, she is right to feel this way as her own child died just after birth and Damien was substituted for him without her knowledge. Robert Thorne, who does know this has happened, struggles with this deceit throughout the film. Eventually, he comes to the point where he begins to deceive himself. In a scene with Father Brennan, he vehemently denies that Damien’s mother is anyone other than his wife.
In a less esoteric sense, Kathy is simply annoyed by Damien. She is easily frustrated, and her nerves quickly frayed by his acting out and the constant noise of his playing. It is a feeling that every parent of young children knows well. A moment of quiet, of peace, of adult conversation, anything, is so needed, but the guilt quickly sets in over such thoughts. After Kathy discovers she is pregnant, Damien’s rambunctiousness leads to Kathy being severely injured in a fall and losing the baby. Again, it could be an accident, it could be Mrs. Baylock orchestrating Damien being raised as an only child, or Damien could be the devil. It all depends on how you look at it.
Soon after, Kathy is killed in another bizarre accident and Robert is stricken with grief. Thorne’s decision to kill Damien after Kathy’s death is a chilling moment. Whether he truly believes that Damien is evil is not entirely clear in this scene. It comes across as a man seeking revenge for the death of his wife. Damien is not even there when Kathy dies, and Mrs. Baylock may or may not have pushed her out the window of her hospital room. He appears to be justifying the killing of this child by reminding himself that Damien is not really his. In the final moments as Thorne is about to drive a dagger into Damien’s chest, he forcefully silences the child’s cries of “please, Daddy, no” and “no, Daddy, no!” by pushing his face away, unable to look into his eyes. These are dark and chilling scenes that take on further darkness depending on one’s interpretation of the film.
Gregory Peck came out of a six-year retirement to make what Seltzer called “a devil movie,” and his casting brought immediate credibility to the film. It is a remarkable performance, imbued with as much conviction, pathos, and nuance as his iconic turn as Atticus Finch in To Kill a Mockingbird (1962). As soon as he was attached as Robert Thorne, other great actors quickly came aboard. Lee Remick, David Warner, Patrick Troughton, and Billie Whitelaw were all highly regarded actors at the time and bring a great deal of gravitas to the picture. For the small but pivotal role of Damien’s nanny, who hangs herself at the boy’s fifth birthday party, Donner cast Holly Palance, daughter of screen legend Jack Palance. The most difficult role to fill was that of Damien himself, but it eventually went to Harvey Stephens and Donner coaxed a remarkable and chilling performance from the five-year-old, cumulating in one of the greatest final shots in film history.
For some, the lore surrounding the film is more frightening than the film itself. Accidents, strange occurrences, and even deaths connected to the film have led some to believe The Omen is cursed. Of course, these kinds of incidents have also been connected to films like The Exorcist and Poltergeist and can be interpreted as related to the film or not. Because The Omen deals with strange occurrences and things that may or may not be coincidence, these kinds of events gain particular attention. Many of those connected with the film, however, including Richard Donner, producer Mace Neufeld, and David Seltzer feel quite the opposite about the film—that it was in many ways blessed and not at all cursed.
No conversation of The Omen is complete without discussing the remarkable and memorable score by Jerry Goldsmith. It is incredibly innovative and truly postmodern in the sense that it employs music of all kinds and from many eras to achieve its effect. From pseudo-Gregorian chant, to neo-romanticism, to the avant-garde, as well as direct inspiration from Mozart’s Requiem and Carl Orff’s Carmina Burana, the score’s throbbing darkness and religious overtones are palpable. The music gives yet another layer of realism, credibility, and power to the film. To the surprise of some, Goldsmith beat out the legendary Bernard Herrmann and his scores for Obsession and Taxi Driver to win The Omen’s only Academy Award.
The Omen opened with a sneak preview on June 6, 1976 (6/6/76) before opening wide on the 25th of the same month. This was, of course, part of the film’s marketing buzz that included a bestselling novelization written by David Seltzer, the unforgettable 666 logo, and the tagline “You Have Been Warned.” The film was a massive hit taking in nearly $61 million on its relatively small budget of $2.8 million. Considering the expansive nature of the story, the top-line actors involved, and how great the film looks and sounds, it is almost incomprehensible that it was made as such a low budget feature.
Even excluding its sequels and remake, The Omen remains one of the most important and influential horror films of all time. Beyond the more obvious endurance of religious horror films, the mark of the film can be seen on movies like the Final Destination series (2000-2011), with its creative, Rube-Goldberg style death sequences, or even The Shining (1980) with its a-list casting and big studio backing.
Part of what makes The Omen so effective is that it takes its subject matter seriously but is subtle enough to be open to multiple interpretations. Its influence can be seen and felt to this day as the subgenre of religious and satanic horror has only seemed to ramp up in recent years. Films like The Exorcism of Emily Rose (2005), The Conjuring films (2013-present), The Taking of Deborah Logan (2014), and the recent sensation Saint Maud (2019) all dabble in the same kind of verisimilitude. Like The Omen, many of these recent holy terrors can be interpreted through either a lens of faith, or one of skepticism.
The legacy of the film is much like its final shot of Damien standing between the President and First Lady. He stares at us and smiles but does not tip his hand or tell us what he does or doesn’t know. No matter what we may personally believe, that smile sticks in our minds and continues to haunt us all.
College kids, strippers and vampires—those were Donald P. Borchers’ only requirements when he approached Richard Wenk about writing and directing a movie for New World Pictures. As requested, Wenk cooked up Vamp (1986), a tailor-made blend of the decade’s teen movie craze as well as its horror boom.
Grim and earnest stories were still very much a part of the ’80s horror landscape, yet Vamp is something of a comedy. One difference between it and, say, Saturday the 14th, though, is the former avoids using schtick. Wenk’s movie proves that horror comedies also don’t have to subtract thrills from their recipes. Of course, it takes a minute before reaching that point; college antics and culture shocks preface this one macabre misadventure.
Vamp‘s initial setup is apt for a typical college-set, sex-driven comedy; to bribe their way into a fraternity house, two pledges (Chris Makepeace, Robert Rusler) go looking for some adult entertainment. Without wasting time on any further exposition, the characters embark on an all-in-one-night trip that quickly detours into terror.
To procure their elusive MacGuffin—a stripper willing to gyrate for some frat boys—Keith (Makepeace) and AJ (Rusler), plus a third wheel named Duncan (Gedee Watanabe), trade the safety of their remote college campus for the seediness of some unnamed city. The setting is recognizably L.A. by day, but as soon as night falls, downtown, along with the characters, slips into a kind of surreal universe. Director of photography Elliot Davis gave this early entry on his prolific résumé an unusual yet distinctive look; that Mario Bava-esque, magenta-green lighting is omnipresent, so much so that it’s almost its own character.
Chris Makepeace and Robert Rusler in Vamp
The faint comparisons to Martin Scorsese’s After Hours are merited, although not just because of Vamp’s distinguishing nighttime aesthetic. Save for the primary characters, the supporting roles in Wenk’s movie are also quite colorful and transactional in their behavior. The difference here, though, is the additional urge to ruin Keith and his friends at every turn. Some of that harm is humorous and tolerable enough, whereas the moment Vamp dishes out its first fatality, it’s abundantly clear how this movie qualifies as horror.
Vamp falls into that category of horror movie that reveals its genre with a scream rather than a series of whispers. The opening scene can function as a hint of what lies ahead—things are not at all what they appear to be—but otherwise, Wenk is more than happy to hold off on the horror. When that time does come, though, it catches the viewer off guard. In addition to the pure shock value is that sudden decision to upend the movie’s foremost feature. Or so it would seem.
If afraid of major spoilage, those new to Vamp would be wise to stop reading here. There’s just no skirting around the fact that the central fellowship in this buddy movie hits a serious snag when AJ is killed. That development causes the story to become more of a “long, bad night” journey for Keith and his romantic interest. So while Wenk scores points for subverting expectations, there is also a touch of sadness in his decision. Because if Vamp does anything well, it’s making the characters likable.
Something that comes easily to Vamp—and other teen horror movies from this same era—is its ability to invent young characters worth caring about, or at the very least, are interesting and not so immediately off-putting. More impressive is how Wenk did all this without actually fleshing out those characters. Still and all, Keith and his kind are a grade above cookie-cutter, and in some cases, aren’t completely devoid of growth.
Grace Jones in Vamp
Vamp appeals with an assorted cast of characters. No two are the same, nor are they operating on the same wavelength. The cinematically extroverted AJ, whose actor conveyed charm and vulnerability in near equal amounts, comes alive when he’s at his most undead. Makepeace then makes the chronically cautious Keith a sympathetic fellow, even as he’s more and more affected by the night’s bizarre events. Meanwhile, Duncan is indeed the designated loser of the whole bunch, but Watanabe still manages to humanize him. As a bonus, the role didn’t require him to pull a Long Duk Dong.
As for Dedee Pfeiffer, she is plain adorable as the mysterious After Dark server nicknamed “Amaretto”. She spends all night fixing her dress strap while at the same time trying to get Keith to remember how he knows her. As their offbeat romance grows, it becomes another highlight of this movie. Whether or not Pfeiffer’s character is really a vampire also creates some welcome tension in the story.
Like a lot of its contemporaries, Vamp went on to become a bit of a cult classic. That current status is determined by several factors, but without a doubt, the casting of Grace Jones is the most considerable. The image of her writhing on that unique-looking chair, a Keith Haring original, springs to mind whenever this movie is brought up.
Chris Makepeace, Billy Drago and Paunita Nichols in Vamp
Prior to that first display of unequivocal horror, local vampire queen Katrina (Jones) took to the stage and delivered a strip show like no other. One would expect nothing less from that renowned model and performance artist. By now reports of Jones’ tardiness on set are no secret, yet it’s also hard to deny her commitment to the part of Katrina. It was, in fact, Jones who took charge of her character’s appearance—on top of Haring painting her body and that now-iconic chair, she had Andy Warhol handle her costuming. And not too many actors could seize a room’s attention without saying a single line of dialogue.
In 2022, Vamp received a retrospective novelization from Encyclopocalypse. This literary union of preexisting source material—Wenk’s original screenplay—and new ideas from author Christian Francis amounts to a more comprehensive visit to the After Dark Club. The basic story there is no different than what’s shown on screen; however, Francis gets creative with the characters’ origins and designs, and he enhances a number of key scenes.
The novelization expands on the urban and social decay of the main setting, and supplies a background for the After Dark Club. Sandy Baron’s character, Katrina’s emcee and familiar, is given ample motivation for sticking around; up until the fiery end, he is loyal to his friend and former business partner “Squeak”, who looks like he was “fed through a combine harvester, and left as nothing more than a heap of mangled remains”. Then there is Billy Drago’s character Snow, the leader of a street gang called The Dragons. His reason for menacing Keith and AJ is more altruistic than in the movie; he and his peers act tough to scare off any potential food for the vampires.
Lisa Lyon in Vamp
If not for all the backstories, Francis’ Vamp would be a hell of a lot shorter. Instead, this tie-in read dives into how AJ met Keith—the orphaned Anthony Joseph hailed from a broken home back in Brooklyn—and how their friendship flourished over the years. Keith’s archership is no longer just an assumed part of his entire being; it’s a confidence-building extracurricular for a boy who got picked on before coming into the protection of the new kid in town. These supplemental, in-depth looks at the protagonists, plus their close connection, are maybe unnecessary. The movie already did a fair and concise job of addressing their platonic intimacy without the need for flashbacks and insights, specifically in that scene where AJ lays it all out as he sacrifices himself.
Where the novelization gets off course is its approach to the minor characters. Intermittently backstorying the likes of Katrina’s indentured servants, Seko (Leila Hee Olsen) and Vlad (Brad Logan), ends up disturbing the flow of the writing. Was it absolutely essential that readers know Vlad was the Grand Duke of the House of Romanov, or how Snow’s accomplice Maven (Paunita Nichols) became so dentally challenged? No, not really. However, one’s mileage with these random biographies may vary.
The novelization is a more substantial experience, but for a movie like Vamp, less is more. And as plentiful as they are, it never simply coasts on its campy charms, either. The character work sits comfortably in that realm between cursory and meticulous, the script is sharper than first realized, and Greg Cannom’s vampire makeup is straightforward yet effective. Most of all, the movie didn’t squander its out-of-the-box concept. Richard Wenk made his vision of a “comic nightmare in which just about anything that can go wrong does” come true, and it is very enjoyable.
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