The Omen

Even devout horror nuts had little cause to feel perturbed by the prospect of a remake of The Omen. I mean, who cares if it was thrown together to capitalise on a date (6/6/06)? It’s not like we’re dealing with a classic.
Still, John Moore’s re-imagining of this ropey old standard often does the material a disservice. Why, when the anti-Christ appears as a child, is he terrifically cute? What’s all this guff about 9/11 and the Columbia disaster fulfilling the prophecies of Revelations? And no, the Treaty of Rome does not mark the resurrection of the Roman Empire.
There are, however, several moments that almost justify the ticket price. Michael Gambon’s shouting maniacal priest makes one think of an elderly Mark E. Smith in a Cossack. Mia Farrow’s outrageously hammy turn as the demon-spawn’s protector is a joyful rampage that leaves no piece of furniture safe. Alas, the entire middle section of the film following Liev Schreiber and David Thewlis’ supernatural investigation is rather less fun. Even on-screen Thewlis can barely suppress his desire to yawn.
Pretty pointless stuff.