One Good Scare - The Omen (1976)
he is the anti-christ, he is the anarchist, he is five years old!
Spoilers from the jump, as per usual.
It’s difficult to pick just one good scare from The Omen. I’m on record as not being the biggest fan of Richard Donner’s classic but I cannot deny that there are some fucking terrifying moments during its 111 minutes runtime. Such riches to choose from! The world’s most tense visit to Windsor Park Zoo! The Final Destination avant la lettre death of Keith Jennings (David Warner)! Father Brennan’s (Patrick Troughton) demise by lightning rod (which… watch this space, I may come back to that one)! Literally any time Mrs. Blaylock is on screen! Just a parade of scenes that are hyper-specific catnip to me.
But today, we’re going for a closer look at a scene early in the movie. A scene that quite abruptly shatters the veneer of peace that has settled over the Thorn family.
Are you ready to come to the birthday party with me?
the scare
It is five years since American diplomat (now Ambassador to the United Kingdom in London) Robert Thorn (Gregory Peck, austere perfection) and his wife Kathy (Lee Remick) welcomed their son Damien into their lives. Unbeknownst to Kathy, Damien is not biologically theirs. The baby boy she gave birth to died immediately - at least this is what Robert was told by the hospital chaplain Father Spiletto (Martin Benson), who then persuaded Robert to adopt another baby whose mother had just died in childbirth.
That baby was Damien, and for the first five years of his life, the Thorn family lead a seemingly idyllic existence. They move from Rome to…. well, quite near London, a nanny (played by Holly Palance) is hired, Damien settles in and everything seems to be going fine.
Cut to Damien’s fifth birthday party. It’s the birthday of the son of the Ambassador to the United Kingdom in sort of London, so it’s a grand affair. There’s a carousel, there’s entertainment, there’s a lot of enthusiastic kiddywinks and sugar, and it looks like fun. You almost feel at ease enough to not pay attention to the brief moment where Kathy takes Damien from the nanny’s arms. It feels like a normal birthday party…. you know, for the child of a millionaire diplomat family - one of the photographers there, who we later learn is Keith Jennings, dryly remarks to a colleague that he’s saving a bit of film for Damien’s canonization as given the opulence (OPULENCE! YOU! OWN! EVERYTHING! *vogues wildly*) of the party he may as well be Jesus himself rather than the heir to the Thorn fortune.
I mean there’s being wrong and there’s being deeply wrong on a level you don’t even understand yet, Keith.
Anyway. There’s playful carnival music, lots of chatter and excited yelling so you almost don’t hear her. But through the din, a voice carries on the wind.
“Damien…”
“Damien… look at me, I’m over here!”
“Damien, I love you!”
The voice continues and starts drawing attention to the house. Robert turns to look. Kathy takes Damien off the carousel and he spots who’s calling to him - it’s his nanny. Stood on a window ledge. Rope around her neck. Unnaturally grinning.
“Look at me, Damien! It’s all for you!”
Time itself seems to slow down dramatically as the nanny does the unthinkable and jumps down. Her body swings and crashes through a window, terrifying the bejesus out of one of the maids. Kids are scattering, parents are trying to keep the peace, Kathy stares in horror. As the family hug, Damien catches the eye of a Rottweiler, standing a distance away. The music takes an ominous turn as Damien and the dog lock eyes.
And then, Damien raises his little five year old hand in a wave.
what makes the scene effective
If you’re going into The Omen for the first time (with zero prior awareness, I mean), you’d be forgiven for thinking nothing much is actually wrong, apart from the secret Robert is keeping regarding Damien not being their biological son. Apart from a scene where Damien briefly disappears during a nice autumnal walk, things seem relatively normal.
And then you get to the birthday party. If you rewatch the scene, you’ll notice that Kathy, a bit dubious, is watching the nanny holding Damien and posing for pictures. She isn’t exactly strict in taking Damien over from her, but the nanny appears… almost crestfallen as she walks off. You’ll also notice that the Rottweiler who later appears to Damien is already there, and makes eye contact with the nanny. Almost like it’s trying to tell her something. Almost like, in hindsight, what happens next is determined by that very moment.
The build-up to the scare itself is a masterclass in contained tension building. The way you hear the nanny’s voice cutting through the noise, through the fairground music is haunting. The people turning, the nanny calling for her ward, declaring her love for him and stating that she’s doing it all for him before throwing herself off the roof. Like the remnants of a normal (… again, normal for the son of a millionaire diplomat) childhood are shattering along with the glass of the window her body swings through. The film turns on that very scene and it’s all the more effective for the rolling dread that settles in the pit of your stomach as it unfolds.
Plus, Lee Remick’s face as it happens should be studied, it’s a work of WIDE EYED ART.