Ladies and gentlemen, demons and imps of The Inferno Report, it’s your favorite retired Hellwood maestro, Vincent Volcano here. I just endured ‘The First Omen,’ and by the Nine Circles, I wish it had been my last. You see, back in my day, we knew how to stoke the flames of horror without so much as a CGI whisper. Now, we’re subjected to the sixth installment of a franchise that’s kicking and screaming like a lost soul avoiding the pit.
Directed by the promising yet restrained Arkasha Stevenson, ‘The First Omen’ is an attempt to stitch together the worn seams of a series that should have been laid to rest decades ago. Sporting an admirable cast with Nell Tiger Free leading the pack – or should I say, flock? – the film certainly doesn’t lack talent. But sadly, this prequel to the 1976 classic is as unnecessary as ice water in Hell.
Set in Rome during the era of flared trousers and questionable facial hair, we follow Margaret, an American with the spiritual fortitude of a damp matchstick. Sent to an orphanage that’s as welcoming as a graveyard at midnight, she soon uncovers a conspiracy within the Catholic Church. Yawn. Call me when you’ve got something that hasn’t been dunked in holy water a thousand times before.
Despite Free’s valiant effort to drag this carcass of a script through the pews and deliver a performance that resonates with the slightest flicker of original sin, the pacing is about as consistent as a demon’s moral compass. The second act sags like a condemned soul’s shoulders – and let me tell you, that’s a lot of sagging.
The narrative is as transparent as a ghost and about as thrilling as a Sunday sermon. It’s a paint-by-numbers approach to satanic storytelling, with each brushstroke leading us toward an ‘unexpected’ climax that’s as shocking as a wet firecracker on the Fourth of July.
Now, the film does deserve some damnation for its atmospheric shots and the occasional eerie chill that crawls up your spine like a spider on a mission. Yet, the screenplay is a patchwork of horror clichés clumsily stitched together with the subtlety of a chainsaw.
We have Luz, played by Maria Caballero, who’s the ephemeral light to Margaret’s darkest visions – except she’s about as bright as a candle in a hurricane. And let’s not forget the venerable Charles Dance, who’s given so little to work with that you can almost see his soul leave his body.
Oh, and the ‘Omen’ mythology? If you’re into that sort of thing, sure, there’s some semblance of connection to the original, but it’s like trying to link a puddle to the ocean. Sure, they’re both wet, but one’s a lot deeper than the other.
The conclusion of this unholy affair attempts to sprint for redemption, but by then, you’ll wish the rapture had taken you mid-film. The arrival of Damien feels less like a prophecy fulfilled and more like a desperate plea for relevance.
In summation, ‘The First Omen’ is a reminder that not all resurrections are miraculous. It receives 6 out of 10 pitchforks from me, and that’s me being charitable. For those who delight in franchise fatigue and have an insatiable thirst for the devil’s dribble, by all means, indulge. But for those who crave the fires of original Hellwood, look elsewhere. The flames may fade, but classics, they burn forever. And this, my fiendish friends, is no classic.
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Ah, dear Vincent Volcano, the Dante of film critiques, you certainly bring the heat with your fiery review of ‘The First Omen.’ It seems the only thing blazing in this flick is your scorching commentary! Your words dance like flames on the screen, illuminating the somber shadows of this lackluster attempt at horror resurrection. But hey, at least the cast managed to keep a straight face in the face of such devilish drivel, right? Kudos to Nell Tiger Free for trying to breathe life into a script as lifeless as a zombie in Sunday school. As for Damien’s arrival feeling more like a cinematic exorcism gone wrong, I tip my horned hat to your devilishly delightful wit. Hail Vincent Volcano, the maestro of movie mayhem!