Editorials
Remember When ‘The Texas Chainsaw Massacre’ Director Turned ‘Frankenstein’ Into A Detective Drama?
Marcus Nispel’s gritty 2000s era Frankenstein TV Movie for the USA Network is an odd entity that’s a fascinating product of its time, for better and for worse.
“Bobby wasn’t a freak of nature. He was better than nature.”
Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, or The Post-Modern Prometheus, has challenged and entertained audiences for over 200 years and proven itself to be one of horror’s most evergreen stories. The basic Frankenstein creation myth has been tackled in everything from The X-Files to X-Men, fueling expressive gothic horror or absurdist farces, like in Young Frankenstein or Frankenhooker. Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein is a universal story that naturally lends itself to endless reinventions and reimaginings. Frankenstein and his Monster have found their way into horror, science fiction, comedy, anime, and so much more. Marcus Nispel had made waves with his successful remake of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Nispel’s follow-up project would be a bold take on Frankenstein’s Monster that was developed in conjunction with Dean Koontz. Nispel’s Frankenstein attempts to transform Mary Shelley’s classic story into a nihilistic detective drama that blends crime with the occult.
Nispel’s Frankenstein had many successful ingredients, including Martin Scorsese as an executive producer and one of The X-Files’ best writers on board. Nevertheless, Nispel’s film is a disastrous misfire that’s deader than a heap of corpses and especially obscure and forgotten. Nispel’s Frankenstein fails as the “Post-Post-Modern Prometheus,” but it remains a fascinating relic that’s even more interesting to dissect following Guillermo del Toro’s new definitive adaptation.
2004 turned out to be an especially fortuitous year for Frankenstein, marking the release of three incredibly different projects. In addition to Marcus Nispel’s film, there was Stephen Sommers’ Van Helsing, which didn’t exactly do Frankenstein and his Monster justice. It’s still compelling to see such wildly different tonal extremes on the subject matter being released at the same time and giving audiences whiplash. This includes 2004’s Hallmark Channel two-part 177-minute Frankenstein miniseries with William Hurt, Donald Sutherland, and Dan Stevens, which attempted to present an accurate adaptation of Mary Shelley’s novel, rather than the more stylized and post-modern approaches taken with Nispel’s Frankenstein and Van Helsing.
Frankenstein was initially developed as a pilot for the USA Network, only for it not to get picked up when it came time for the cable channel to fill its schedule for the year. The USA Network would instead salvage what was shot and release it as a TV movie, which was a relatively common practice at the time for the more promising – or expensive – TV pilots. In Frankenstein, Dr. Frankenstein is reimagined as Dr. Victor Helios (Thomas Kretschmann), a deranged bio-hacker whose cruel creations begin to rack up a body count in New Orleans. When New Orleans’ police department struggles to piece together the clues, they make a major breakthrough when they find an unlikely ally in Dr. Helios’ original science experiment – Deucalion (Vincent Perez), the series’ take on Frankenstein’s Monster. Frankenstein presents Deucalion as the unsung hero of this story, and his crazed creator is the one who should be behind bars.
Frankenstein is so deeply steeped in an early 2000s aesthetic that it makes it a rather nostalgic visit. It’s written like an X-Files episode, but shot like Se7en. It’s also full of gratuitous, tasteless sex, much like you’d come to expect from a 2000s-era USA Network series. Looking past its decade’s trappings, USA’s version assembles an impressive team of talented artists. David Lynch mainstay, Angelo Badalamenti, even composes the music for Frankenstein’s techno theme. However, their skills fail to properly come together here, aptly enough, like some malformed Frankenstein’s Monster. It’s as if the host is rejecting these grafted body parts, and this compelling project begins to rot and fall apart over time. Frankenstein’s general X-Files vibe makes sense considering that it’s scripted by John Shiban, who wrote over 60 episodes of the formative sci-fi/horror series. Shiban definitely channels his inner X-Files with Frankenstein, and it’s easy to picture Mulder and Scully in place of Parker Posey‘s Detective O’Connor and Adam Goldberg‘s Detective Michael Sloane.
Another curious production hiccup that Frankenstein faced was that it was initially conceived as a Dean Koontz project. Creative differences led to Koontz exiting the project (which triggered similar feelings in Martin Scorsese, who was attached as an executive producer), yet he took his original pitch and turned it into a series of five novels, Dean Koontz’s Frankenstein. These novels are a fascinating counterpoint that begin in a comparable place, and even have characters with the same name as their TV counterpart, only to head down deeper into a bio-android and wetware rabbit hole. Anyone who is at least slightly interested in Nispel’s film should also check out Koontz’s expanded take on the material, which ironically has come close to its own TV and film adaptations.
One of Frankenstein’s most interesting elements is that it argues that Victor Helios and Deucalion are the real Frankenstein and Monster that Mary Shelley’s story is based upon. They’ve been hiding in the shadows for 200 years, until now, when Helios creates more abominations and Deucalion tries to revolt and survive. It’s a curious, creative idea, and this revisionist history approach allows this Frankenstein reimagining more freedom, even if all the ideas don’t necessarily work. There are some genuinely interesting additions to the Frankenstein’s Monster lore. Frankenstein posits that the pieces of the Monster’s body were made from serial killers and other cursed individuals, as if he’s some Freddy Krueger-esque byproduct of a million maniacs. Deucalion also has a tendency to repeatedly electrocute himself. It’s unclear exactly why he does this. It seems to give him extra power that makes him stronger, but it’s really just presented as a bizarre sequence that’s meant to unnerve the audience and qualify as a scare.
Frankenstein starts to craft an intense rivalry between Deucalion and Helios, which is inevitably rushed and doesn’t receive a ton of closure because this was developed as a pilot, not a self-contained movie. This would have presumably been a storyline that carries and develops throughout the entire series. Frankenstein’s introduction to its dire world follows a serial killer, “The Surgeon,” who takes victims’ organs in order to help himself evolve. It’s not far off from Buffy the Vampire Slayer’s take on Frankenstein’s Monster, “Some Assembly Required,” but considerably edgier and more grim-dark. Nispel gleefully indulges in developing the proper hooded loner look for Deucalion and making sure that his home looks like a combination of a workshop, serial killer’s lair, darkroom, and sewer.
Frankenstein is bogged down by some regrettable 2000s era stereotypes, like a mute child who cryptically communicates by building endless toy castles. There’s also dialogue like, “Over 200 years I’ve learned a lot about locks,” which reflects the caliber of writing when it comes to Frankenstein’s plot and how Deucalion has managed to survive for so long. There’s a lot to poke fun at in Frankenstein, but there’s also plenty that works. Parker Posey, for instance, is always a delight and is consistently entertaining as Detective O’Connor. Michael Madsen also hams it up and chomps scenery in every scene that he’s in, which is a real treat. Nispel channels something intriguing during the sequence of Deucalion’s awakening. There are shades of Nispel’s work on Texas Chain Saw Massacre thrown in, but Frankenstein still demonstrates a unique personality that puts a fresh stamp on the whole “It’s Alive!” sequence. There’s a very Engineer from Prometheus vibe that’s going on here, if nothing else. The movie also builds to a decent third-act twist that heads into some dark territory that’s reminiscent of Nispel’s other work, despite still adhering to cable TV’s limitations.
Frankenstein for the USA Network isn’t some undiscovered masterpiece, but it’s an intriguing oddity, an interesting stepping stone in Nispel’s career, and a genuinely creative take on the Frankenstein mythos, even if it’s not anything revolutionary. One can’t help but give the series the benefit of the doubt had it been picked up to series, especially with John Shiban presumably showrunning. His experience on X-Files and later Supernatural, Breaking Bad, and Ozark proves he had the chops for crafting compelling monster-of-the-week procedural storytelling that can connect together with a larger, serialized narrative. Even just a full season of Frankenstein would have likely been compelling television that could subvert and surprise. Shiban might have even been able to get Vince Gilligan in the writers’ room, which would have been the perfect match for this type of series. As an 87-minute standalone offering that’s not allowed the chance to grow, Frankenstein’s wings are naturally clipped, yet it’s an entertaining relic of its time that’s rich in strong talent both in front and behind the camera.
Marcus Nispel’s Frankenstein can be streamed for free on Tubi and Pluto TV.
Of the three films that make up the Diabolical Trinity of classic religious horror films—Rosemary’s Baby (1968), The Exorcist (1973), and The Omen (1976)—The Omen is the most purely entertaining.
While Rosemary’s Baby digs into the societal shifts of the 60s and The Exorcist explores spiritual tensions between faith and doubt in an ever-shifting world, The Omen seems most interested in just telling a thrilling story. It achieves this by blending two major trends of the 1970s, the devil movie and the paranoid thriller, into one crackling adventure yarn. In the process, The Omen has sparked fear and curiosity about what could happen in the “end times” if such events are to occur.
After seeing The Exorcist, producer Harvey Bernhard contacted writer David Seltzer and said something along the lines of, “Hey, write me one of those.” Seltzer, having never read the Bible, thought it would be an interesting challenge, so, according to various interviews, he read the Bible and several commentaries in search of a story. Then he stumbled upon a passage in the book of Revelation, the image of a great Beast rising out of the sea, that sparked his imagination. In the commentaries, he found that the sea represented politics in some interpretations of the text, and he began building his story on that foundation.
Seltzer has told this story often, and I am inclined to believe him. However, from there, much of the theological-sounding lore of The Omen was created purely by Seltzer. Many of the ideas surrounding The Antichrist in the film appear to be drawn much more from the pop-eschatology sensation of the 1970s, The Late Great Planet Earth by Hal Lindsay, than any Biblical source.
Lindsay’s book was the bestselling nonfiction book of the 1970s and re-popularized views of the “last days” that had been dying along with fundamentalism for decades, namely Dispensationalism, Millennialism, and the Pre-Tribulation Rapture. In dispensationalism, history is broken into several epochs of time (or dispensations) that culminate in the return of Christ and his thousand-year (millennial) reign.
Before this return, a seven-year Tribulation will occur in which the Antichrist comes to power and persecutes all who oppose him, culminating in a battle between the forces of good and evil at the valley of Megiddo, usually called Armageddon. Of course, in this worldview, the true believers in Jesus will be lifted out, or raptured, before all this takes place. Since the publication and popularity of The Late Great Planet Earth, this has been the prominent belief in Evangelical and Fundamentalist Christian circles, though Roman Catholic, Orthodox, and mainline Protestant denominations largely reject it.
Lindsay also did something unique that had not been the case even in dispensationalist circles before him—he posited that the creation of the modern state of Israel in 1948 started the countdown to Armageddon. Fans of the film will immediately realize where Seltzer ran with this idea in the first line of the poem created for the movie: “When the Jews return to Zion…”
Damien Thorn and the Creation of Horror’s “Innocent Villain”
Seltzer’s next inspiration focused on the idea of the Antichrist as a child, what he would call the film’s “innocent villain.” In watching The Omen, it is readily apparent that Damien Thorn (Harvey Stephens) does not really do anything evil beyond a bit of normal kid mischief. Even the moment in which Damien knocks Kathy Thorn (Lee Remick) over a second-floor railing can be read as an accident orchestrated by Damien’s diabolically connected nanny, Mrs. Baylock (Billie Whitelaw). The film takes this idea of the innocent villain a step further by casting Gregory Peck, best known for playing arguably the greatest father in film history, Atticus Finch in To Kill a Mockingbird (1962), as Damien’s earthly father, an element that greatly satisfied Seltzer.
The New Testament itself says very little about the Antichrist and certainly nothing about his childhood. In fact, the word antichrist is used twice (1 John 2:18 and 2 John 7 for the curious) and refers to groups of people, not a particular person. There is also a passage in 2 Thessalonians 2:1-12 in which the writer (usually attributed to Paul) discusses “The Man of Lawlessness” who will “exalt himself over everything that is called God” and “proclaim himself to be God.”
Then there is the Beast of Revelation chapter 13 with “seven heads and ten horns” that Seltzer latched onto, which has been interpreted in a multitude of ways over the centuries. Powerful people throughout history, from Charlemagne, various Popes during the Protestant Reformation era, Napoleon and Hitler, to modern politicians, including Ronald Reagan, Bill Clinton, Vladimir Putin, Barack Obama, and Donald Trump, have all had the label placed on them by various circles. Even religious leaders like Billy Graham have not escaped being called the Antichrist.
Lindsay and modern dispensationalists are certain the Antichrist will be a 21st-century individual as they are equally certain that the Rapture, Tribulation, and return of Christ are imminent, likely within their lifetime. Many scholars and theologians, however, interpret these passages as symbolic representations of the Roman Empire and the first-century Caesars who persecuted, tortured, and murdered Christians and Jews who refused to submit to Imperial rule and worship them as gods. For example, that the Beast from the sea in Revelation has seven heads is symbolic of the famous seven mountains of Rome, with the 10 horns referring to rulers and magistrates of the Empire.
But this is all really of no matter to Seltzer and the story of The Omen. Instead of being concerned with any historical or theological accuracy, he instead built his own lore, which sends Robert Thorn and photographer Keith Jennings (David Warner) on a globetrotting investigation into the nature of the Antichrist and how to stop him. Some of this lore includes the child being born of a jackal, the reaction of animals, the protective cult that arises around Damien, the daggers of Megiddo, and maybe most interesting of all, the peculiar flaws in Jennings’s photographs that presage the ways certain individuals will die.
All these aspects are where the paranoid thrillers come in, as films like Blow Up (1966), Z (1969), The Conversation (1974), The Parallax View (1974), 3 Days of the Condor (1975), and All the President’s Men (1976) were all the rage at the time. Especially in the wake of the Watergate scandal, the idea of journalists (like Jennings) as ordinary heroes who could bring down the powerful, nefarious forces in the world was exactly what audiences craved. And what greater hidden evil force was there than the Devil? This is also why the device of the daggers of Megiddo is so important to a movie like this. If Damien is indeed the Antichrist, there must be a way to stop him, though in the Biblical text, the only power capable of destroying the Devil is God Himself.
The Mark of the Beast, 666, and the Film’s Most Famous Religious Symbolism
The piece of lore created for the movie with the most solid Biblical grounding is the Mark of the Beast. Revelation describes a mark on the forehead or hand of those who worship the Beast and his image. Again, this is symbolic language differentiating those who belong to the power of the Roman Empire and those who belong to Christ, who have the Mark of the Lamb. In Seltzer’s hands, the mark is very literal, a birthmark that is borne by not only the Antichrist but all his followers, meaning they are marked from before birth as belonging to Satan, and there is no escaping it. This is all rather distressing to the priest Father Brennan (Patrick Troughton), who betrays his mark by warning Thorn about Damien and pays the price by memorably being impaled by a spire that falls from a church steeple after being struck by lightning.
Why is the mark three sixes? Again, this is drawn from a passage in Revelation that states that the Beast can be identified by calculating his number. In Biblical scholarship, this is believed to be the sum of the name of a man transferred into Hebrew numerology, a practice in which each Hebrew letter also represents a number. Using this method, the number of the name Caesar Nero, which many believe to be the most logical choice, is six hundred sixty-six. In the film and elsewhere, this number is changed to three individual sixes. According to the film, this represents the Diabolical Trinity (a designation also unique to the film) made up of Satan, the Antichrist, and the False Prophet. That Damien carries this unique birthmark under his hair convinces Robert that the child is the Antichrist, and it’s up to him to destroy him.
Part of what makes The Omen great is its ambiguity. Damien could be the Antichrist, or he could be at the center of a series of coincidences. Director Richard Donner stated in interviews that he believed Robert Thorn had gone insane by the end of the film, which, to Donner, is the only explanation for why Thorn would attempt to kill an innocent child. However, that enigmatic smile in the final shot suggests that Damien does embody a spirit of great evil. The sequels, however, all but erase this ambiguity.
In audiences, The Omen sparked a renewed interest in the concept of the Antichrist and the dispensationalist interpretation of the end times that continues to echo throughout the last five decades. Around the time of the film’s release, even Elvis Presley was photographed brandishing a paperback copy of Seltzer’s novelization. Dispensationalist authors like Hal Lindsay, Tim LaHaye, and John Hagee have made millions publishing books and giving lectures about the Antichrist and the end of the world.
The Legacy of The Omen, 50 Years Later
Though A Thief in the Night (1972) preceded The Omen in initial release, it gained quite a resurgence (along with the ability to create three sequels) in the wake of the popularity of The Omen and went on to scar the psyches of Evangelical children for decades. Hal Lindsay was also able to release a film version of The Late Great Planet Earth in 1978, complete with narration and a brief onscreen appearance from Orson Welles.
In the 1990s, the Left Behind series became a cultural phenomenon, spawning twelve books in the core series, a YA spinoff series, video games, and a movie series (2000-2005) starring Kirk Cameron. A bigger studio adaptation of the first book was released in 2014, starring Nicolas Cage. 20th Century Fox and The Omen got in on the renewed “end-of-the-world” vigor by releasing a remake of the original film on June 6, 2006. The franchise was revived once again in 2024 with The First Omen, which explores ideas of the Antichrist and the motivations of those in power in our current religious, social, and political context.
But despite all the sequels, spinoffs, rip-offs, remakes, and “end times” money grabs of the last 50 years, the original version of The Omen remains untouchable. Its greatest strength is that it seeks, first and foremost, to entertain. And it does so admirably.
After half a century, its influence can be felt in horror, the culture at large, and even in various faith circles. It is a testament to the power of story and film that, consciously or unconsciously, fans of The Omen and those who have never seen it alike are, to this very day, marked by the Beast.
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