A prequel that explores and claws its way back to the origins of the Antichrist, tracing the events leading to the original Omen story, it blends a sinister Catholic convent, the arrival of an American woman, and a desperate holy father racing against the clock to thwart damnation. The First Omen (2024) slithers with ambition and feels like it surpasses modest expectations, yet at the same time, it feels like a candle flickering out in a drafty cathedral, constantly in need of being re-lit.
A shy yet curious young American dreamer, Margaret (Nell Tiger Free), steps off the plane into the sultry, chaotic pulse of post-sixties Rome. Invited by her mentor, Cardinal Lawrence (Bill Nighy), she’s poised to take the veil, a sacred vow to embrace the austere life of a nun. Her journey leads her to the Vizzardeli orphanage, a bastion of buried secrets, where she studies under the hawk-like gaze of the sisters. The sisters, when not puffing on cigarettes or scrubbing potatoes in the tangled garden, rule with an iron grip, something Margaret gradually comes to understand.
Stumbling through the oppressive corridors of the orphanage, it’s here, amid the suffocating “bad vibes,” that she encounters Carlita (Nicole Sorace), stirring a mix of pity and fascination. Shunned by the sisters for her behavior and frequently banished to the ominously named “bad room,” Carlita’s presence lingers as someone the movie clearly wants us to pay attention to. Especially as she sits on the floor, troubled, with unbrushed hair, drawing, a reflection of her sheltered and lost state, leaving a lasting impression on Margaret. Despite the cautionary warnings from those around her, Margaret’s stubborn compassion pushes her to reach out and befriend the girl.
If we go by the original timeline of The Omen and align it with the rest of the franchise, The First Omen takes place in 1971. Yet, in a peculiar detail that won’t go unnoticed by those with a keen ear, the movie dares to blast “Daddy Cool” by Boney M, released five years later in 1976, during a vibrant night out that blurs the line between period accuracy and stylistic flair. In this brief detour from convent life, Margaret, coaxed by her fellow nun-aspiring roommate Luz (Maria Caballero), sheds her cloistered inhibitions for one evening, a taste of freedom before the suffocating realm of their new life awaits just around the corner.
There’s not only chaos within the orphanage walls but in the cobblestone streets as well, as the movie channels the raw, rebellious spirit of early 1970s Italy with authenticity, set against a backdrop of political unrest marked by student protests, workers’ rights movements, and autonomist groups hurling Molotov cocktails in defiance of both the government and the Church.
Don’t expect big jump scares or a frantic, holy-water-soaked frenzy of exorcism horror. This isn’t that kind of beast, at least, not for the most part. Still, it delivers a gothic-style atmosphere, disturbance and some hard-hitting scenes, including a literal head-scratching moment with Father Harris, played by Charles Dance, though we’re not quite sure why he smirked.
Instead, it centers on Margaret and her growing bond with Carlita, as she chips away at her defenses and slowly peels back the layers of Vizzardeli’s crumbling facade, like peering through a keyhole, alongside a pervasive sense that someone, or perhaps something, is fanning the flames of a dark conspiracy right under their noses.
This prequel to The Omen manages to ensnare your interest, pulling you toward a finish line that, while offering spells of satisfaction, can just as easily feel like wading through molasses, weighed down by introspective pauses and leaving you craving a stronger surge of action. Still, the movie rallies in its final act.