Some horror films make you question whether it is a good idea to remain seated or retreat from the very first moments. They’re rare but they certainly exist, and from the first haunting note of Jerry Goldsmith’s score for The Omen, we are immediately plunged into a state of terror and despair, with the carefully-constructed cacophony of choral chaos making it abundantly clear what this film had in store for the viewer. Nearly half a century since its release, and several sequels, prequels and reboots that followed, Richard Donner’s tale of a wealthy couple dealing with the aftermath of realizing that their beloved son is the Antichrist remains one of the most terrifying and unsettling films ever made, and a true classic of the genre for numerous reasons. The film that propelled Donner to becoming one of the most acclaimed genre directors of his generation, as well as inspiring an entirely new movement within horror filmmaking, The Omen is not only truly terrifying but a deeply influential one as well, having a profound impact on a lot of later developments within the genre. Filled with some genuinely complex ideas that co-exist alongside the genuinely unnerving sense of paranoia and paranormal horror, The Omen set a foundation for a genre-bending style of storytelling, whereby we are constantly confronted with a harsh and unquestionably challenging perspective on common ideas that are delivered with an unhinged approach to some resonant themes that Donner and the rest of his team use as the basis for a film that relies very much on a specific kind of mood to tell a story that will, unfortunately, resonate with viewers in a way that is uncomfortable and confusing, all of which is part of the timeless appeal, as well as historical significance, of this remarkable and chaotic film.

Horror takes many forms, and there isn’t a clear set of criteria surrounding what makes a film effective or the elements that need to be taken into consideration when creating a memorable horror villain. However, a good rule of thumb is that the closer a story is to reality, the more terrifying it will be for most audiences. Generally, we find horror films that impose on the domestic space to be more terrifying, since the sacred nature of our home life being overtaken by a sense of fear and disturbing imagery feels like a direct attack on our comfort. There are few ideas more sacrosanct than that of a parent-child relationship, and along with Rosemary’s Baby and The Exorcist, which stand alongside it as one of the formative entries into this sub-genre of parental horror, The Omen explores the destruction of this special bond. Interestingly, all these films centre on demonic possession and the encroaching danger of malicious spirits in the lives of seemingly ordinary families, and while we can certainly read a lot into the popularity of this genre as being a response to the supposed corruption of the nuclear family that was occurring during the post-war era, the more interesting conversation revolves around how this film, like many others, makes use of a child as the villain. The innocence and purity of a young child are entirely dismantled with The Omen, which presents us with Damien  Thorn, one of the most unsettling and terrifying antagonists in the history of the genre, and whose impact as a force of terror comes from the fact that it is so unexpected to imagine someone as young and impressionable, as well as seemingly free of world-weary despair, is capable of this level of malice. The film weaves these ideas together seamlessly, creating a vibrant and complex horror film that touches on these ideas without making it obvious or coming across as heavy-handed in the underlying ideas that inform so much of the overall terror which defines the story.

Decades later, The Omen remains as terrifying today as it was when it was first released, a rare feat for many horror films and something that immediately sets this apart from others within the genre. Most of this comes from the methods Donner and his cohorts employ to tell this story, which are quite original and inventive, even if they seem rudimentary at a cursory glance. Ultimately, we find that The Omen is a film in which less is certainly more – in theory, you would imagine this to be reliant on special effects and elaborate setpieces, but the director chooses something more simple, in which most of the terror comes from the atmosphere, particularly the foreboding feeling of dread in which we constantly feel as if there is something sinister lurking around every corner. This is a classic example of the most effective kinds of horror being those that draw on the fear of what is in the shadows, just out of view and ready to pounce, rather than what we can see. Many have noted how this film functions more as a psychological thriller than a supernatural horror, particularly in how it establishes a specific mood and uses this as the main channel through which the terror is introduced. The more subtle, atmosphere-driven aspects of the film make the brief and sporadic bursts of explicit violence all the more effective since they act as punctuations to long stretches of atmospheric dread, rather than serving as the main foundation of the story. The effects are kept very simple and concise and are only used when they are necessary, which not only prevents the film from overstaying its welcome in terms of the violence that it acknowledges as an effective artistic tool but also gives it a genuine sense of realism that can be quite unnerving for those who are not prepared for the sheer terror lingering beneath the surface of this film.

As was often the case with horror films from this era, casting the central roles was vitally important, because while the concepts were good in theory, they could only become effective with the right actors in the roles, especially since a film like The Omen has quite a bizarre premise that would become ridiculous had there not been some degree of consistency in how the story was told in terms of the characters and their relationship with the underlying themes. Gregory Peck and Lee Remick were handpicked to lead the film, and as two industry veterans with long, varied careers that saw them play a range of characters, the film was clearly in good hands. Peck in particular is incredible – playing the part of a man conflicted between his professional life as a well-liked politician with a promising career ahead of him, and his domestic duties as a father and husband, he brings an abundance of depth to the role. Whether the film calls on him to showcase his stoic elegance or to venture to much darker territory as the character slowly begins to realize the scope of what he is facing, Peck is consistently willing to go as far as necessary to bring this character to life. The supporting cast is also very good – the always wonderful David Warner plays perhaps the only truly sympathetic, likeable character in the film (and logically the one with the most brutal fate), whereas the iconic Billie Whitelaw is truly nightmarish as the demonic Mrs Baylock, instantly becoming one of the great horror villains of the era, particularly in how she manages to mostly avoid the same tropes usually associated with the biddy horror sub-genre that a lot of these films relied on when casting these actors. Naturally, we have to discuss the actor playing Damien, and while he is mostly used as an unnerving presence, not having much dialogue and mostly just being quietly sinister, Harvey Spencer Stephens is remarkably effective at playing this terrifying character, a lot of his performance being non-verbal, his main form of communicating his evil being in his expressions and gestures, which are carefully curated to avoid making him too one-dimensional. We don’t always expect a film like The Omen to contain genuinely brilliant performances, but across the board, we find some tremendous work being done by this cast, who unite to bring this story to life.

The Omen remains one of the most cynical and harsh horror films of the 1970s – the heroes are all dead by the end, and there is an implication that not only has the villain succeeded, but this is just the start of his reign of terror. When accompanied by the underlying themes that situate this story within a recognizable reality, we start to feel genuinely overwhelmed by everything contained within this film, which proves to be quite an unconventional but still profoundly effective work of sheer terror. It has appropriately come to be viewed as a cornerstone of the genre, a daring and provocative horror film that knows exactly how to burrow beneath the skin of every viewer, managing to reach across every demographic and instilling a sense of undeniable fear in each and everyone one of us. It’s a challenging film that is sometimes difficult to entirely comprehend or find particularly endearing, especially in light of how bleak everything throughout the film tends to be and one that is never easy to entirely unpack until we are situated right at the heart of the narrative, where a genuine sense of terror orbits around us, leaving us in a state of anguish and despair as we watch the chaos compound and create one of the bleakest and unnerving depictions of family life ever committed to film. It’s a terrifying and unsettling film with strong messages and an underlying sense of dread that is difficult to forget, and which informs many of the deeply complex ideas that occur beneath this film. It is a masterpiece of atmospheric horror and one that continues to terrify viewers nearly fifty years later.