I, like a good little sucker, went straight to the theater last night to see The Omen based on the strength of the brilliant advertising campaign laid out by Fox. My friend, fearful of us viewing this movie on 06.06.06, said about a million prayers during the drive to the theater and a few more right before the film began. I’ll admit that I said a quick prayer, too. It’s unfortunate that we didn’t pray to God to ask him to make this film viewable. I didn’t see the original, but that’s never stopped me from going to a see a remake before. Thanks to The Omen, I’m changing that policy indefinitely.
The only ungodly thing about that film was the acting and the script. Liev Schreiber crying with no visible tears. Maybe in his next film he can get shot, but not bleed. Julia Stiles did the best she could, but it’s not her best performance. Mia Farrow was great. That’s the first and last time I’ll use the word great to describe anything related to this film.
The only thing frightening about the movie was young Damien as a child. I took one look at that kid as a baby and said he looked like hell with that big forehead and receding hairline. (I hope I don’t pay for that one.) I think my friend and I enjoyed the film so much because it was so easy to mock. A lot of the people in the theater seemed to agree.
I was ready for some intense scenes. Hardly any damnation. No prayers to drive the little evil spirit back into the bottomless pit from whence it came. The specials about the Rapture that aired in the 90s that I was forced to watch were far scarier than this flick.
Thanks to them, I now think hell is a 104 minute display of bad acting, cheesy music, lazy interpretations of biblical text, and blue eyed kids that make Smurfs look like demons.