The First Omen, directed by Arkasha Stevenson, boldly returns to the world of The Omen, offering a chilling origin story for the Antichrist, Damien Thorn. With its richly crafted atmosphere, provocative themes, and commitment to visceral horror, the film captures the spirit of its 1976 predecessor while forging its own distinct identity. Yet, despite its impressive ambitions and artistry, it stumbles in its final act, where franchise obligations overshadow its more original elements.
Set in 1971, the film follows Margaret (Nell Tiger Free), a young American novitiate who travels to Rome to begin a life of religious service. Initially captivated by the city’s beauty and her faith, Margaret’s path takes a dark turn when she begins to uncover unsettling secrets at the orphanage where she works. A young girl, Carlita (Nicole Sorace), becomes the center of a sinister conspiracy tied to Margaret’s own haunting visions. As she delves deeper, Margaret finds herself grappling with questions of faith, autonomy, and the forces shaping her destiny.

Stevenson’s direction shines in the film’s aesthetic and tone. Drawing inspiration from 1970s horror classics, The First Omen feels like a natural extension of Richard Donner’s original, blending gothic imagery with modern filmmaking techniques. The streets of Rome, with their haunting beauty, serve as a perfect backdrop for Margaret’s unraveling. One standout sequence, set in a vibrant Italian discotheque, juxtaposes the era’s exuberance with the film’s growing sense of dread, showcasing Stevenson’s eye for striking contrasts.
The horror elements are unapologetically graphic and unsettling, with Stevenson pushing the boundaries of what mainstream horror typically delivers. A harrowing childbirth scene is one of the film’s most unforgettable moments, combining visceral body horror with thematic depth. The imagery, often grotesque and deeply provocative, lingers long after the film ends, echoing the unnerving power of the original Omen. Mark Korven’s score complements the visuals, weaving subtle nods to Jerry Goldsmith’s iconic themes into a modern, haunting soundscape.

Nell Tiger Free anchors the film with a compelling performance, portraying Margaret as a complex and relatable protagonist. Her transformation from an idealistic novice to a woman confronting unspeakable horrors is both believable and emotionally resonant. Ralph Ineson’s Father Brennan adds gravitas, delivering warnings of doom with the conviction of a man who has seen too much. Nicole Sorace’s Carlita is a standout, blending innocence and menace, while Bill Nighy and Sonia Braga provide strong support in roles that deepen the film’s theological and psychological tensions.
Despite its strengths, The First Omen falters in its final act. As the story aligns itself with the 1976 original, it sacrifices some of its originality and subtlety. The narrative becomes increasingly reliant on exposition and predictable reveals, losing the bold edge that defined its earlier moments. This shift feels like a studio mandate, diluting the provocative vision Stevenson establishes in the first two acts. Additionally, the overuse of CGI in some of the gore sequences detracts from the film’s otherwise tactile aesthetic, undermining its immersive quality.

Even with these missteps, The First Omen is a worthy addition to the franchise. It honors the legacy of The Omen while carving out a fresh narrative path, offering fans a chilling and visually stunning return to a world defined by dread and conspiracy. Stevenson proves herself a director to watch, delivering a film that, even in its imperfections, reminds us of the enduring power of The Omen. It’s a provocative and unsettling prequel that, while not perfect, leaves a lasting impression and lays the groundwork for a new chapter in this classic horror saga.
TL;DR Review
The First Omen
Despite its strengths, The First Omen falters in its final act. As the story aligns itself with the 1976 original, it sacrifices some of its originality and subtlety. The narrative becomes increasingly reliant on exposition and predictable reveals, losing the bold edge that defined its earlier moments. This shift feels like a studio mandate, diluting the provocative vision Stevenson establishes in the first two acts. Additionally, the overuse of CGI in some of the gore sequences detracts from the film’s otherwise tactile aesthetic, undermining its immersive quality.
Review Breakdown
-
Unruly Rating