Fear in The Omen (1976)

Personally, I am not a big fan of horror films. I get anxiety at the mere thought of watching one. Thus, I chose to watch The Omen (1976) this week (during the daylight and with the lights on!) hoping the combination of dated effects and a relatively tame storyline would limit the amount of “pop out at you” scenes for which the genre is notorious. Thankfully, this was the case.

            For those of you who have not seen the film, it is about a couple, Robert and Katherine Thorn, that adopts a baby boy, Damien, whose mother has just died from childbirth when Katherine gives birth to a stillborn child. However, this all occurs unbeknownst to Katherine who believes the child she takes home from the hospital is in fact her own. After the couple moves to London, strange events start to occur leading Robert to discover that his son is the Antichrist.

            The film is a combination of the ideas presented in Cynthia Freeland’s Realist Horror and Sigmund Freud’s The Uncanny. Last week, we discussed Noel Carroll’s The Philosophy of Horror. While this piece presents interesting, and definitely valid, concepts regarding the horror genre, its focus is more on the fictional components of horror, like monsters. As a result, we can’t use these concepts to evaluate all films within the genre because not all have monsters. Freeland uses the term “realist horror” in reference to this subset of the genre that doesn’t include monsters. Unlike Carroll’s “classical” approach, realist horror doesn’t provide us with the reassurance that what we are viewing is impossible. Instead, realist horror is “a Chicago man [that] steals corpses and skins them to make himself a suit. A drifter from Texas [who] confesses to 600 murders. A Milwaukee man [who] cannibalizes and has sex with the corpses of numerous boys he has killed” (Freedland). What makes realist horror so terrifying is that despite its seemingly fictional basis, it creates a scenario in which anyone is a potential victim. Also, while monsters do exist in realist horror, they are not the same as those defined by Carroll. Instead, monsters in realist horror are serial killers, rapists, cannibals, etc.

            In Freud’s The Uncanny, he introduces the idea of the uncanny being the opposite of what is familiar and how this in turn leads to fear. He says, “The uncanny is that class of the frightening which leads back to what is known of old and long familiar.” The example he provides to help explain this concept is a wax figure. Based on our prior knowledge of wax figures we know they are replicas of people that, like store mannequins, just stay in place and don’t move. Suppose, however, that while you are admiring one the figure winks at you, or smiles. This fear you experience is derived from the uncanny.

            The Omen, while displaying some characteristics of realist horror, deals mostly with concepts in Freud’s The Uncanny. Damien is the definition of the uncanny. We perceive and associated children with innocence and purity. However, Damien’s role in the film as the antichrist goes against everything we hold to be true and familiar when we think about children. Thus the fear we experience when watching the film is a result of the unsettling feeling we get from Damien straying from what we believe his role should be. We perceive Damien to be the monster. However, Damien’s role as the monster doesn’t exactly fit into Freeland or Carroll’s definition of a monster. Damien is not a realist horror monster because the fear he creates for the viewer is not a result of being a potential victim. Nor can Damien be considered a classical horror monster because he is not fictional being, but rather a human child. Thus Damien’s role as a monster remains somewhere in between the two concepts. However, if we view Robert Thorn’s role in the film as also that of a monster, we can say he is a realist horror monster. While Robert’s role as a monster is debatable, it can be argued that by wanting to kill his own son, regardless of who is son is, Robert is a monster.

            Overall, I thought The Omen was a great horror film. Aside from the corny music and dated effects, the film had an interesting plot and created a sense of fear without all the unnecessary (at least from my point of view!) “jump out at you and make your hair stand up” scenes that most horror films have these days. 

666

According to Carroll, what drives the horror genre is curiosity, either knowable or normal. It is certainly true for any genre that an audience is curious about what is going to happen and is intrigued by the unfolding events; but why do some people despise horror films? I like to think that certain people despise all sorts of films, but the horror genre is so easy to hate. The easy way out is that one is squeamish or thinks it’s too violent or it has no purpose other than to gross the audience out. How is this different from saying that romance movies make other people sick to their stomach? That seeing other people have awkward sex on screen makes them feel uncomfortable… That they just exploit people’s sex appeal. Are comedies not frequently ultra-violent to achieve similar shock factor? (perhaps why the line between gruesome horror films and comedy is often gray) Do they not just make poop jokes to get a giggle? The repulsion of horror is not much different than seeing a character you have grown to love tragically die in a drama! It can be done well, or it can fall into the cookie cutter and further the idea that the genre the movie is in is simple… simple to our simple psyche. Movies of all genres are full of surprises to pull at certain emotions, and horror films simply pull at one’s fear. We can all agree that some people don’t like that.

What makes horror different is the “monster” (yes Carroll was right about some things). While Nickel hesitates to agree, he furthers Carroll’s definition by putting nonfictional things in the category as well. This would include the “monster” of a serial killer simply because it defies the normality of the audiences lives (hopefully); however, if a serial killer watched a movie about a serial killer, he probably wouldn’t be repulsed. His lack of accepting the serial killer as the “monster” would perhaps cause him to see the movie as a different genre… perhaps comedy or mystery. Without the “monster,” to some degree or another, yes horror films could be showcases for new technology and bloody props.

In Richard Donner’s The Omen (1976), I found that there were several aspects of the “monster” in question. First, I am going to identify these aspects as they fit in with the readings, then I want to directly address some concerns brought up by Matthew in his post. For those of you who have not seen the movie, it is about a diplomat who’s child dies at birth and is given the antichrist in exchange. Some odd deaths occurrences surround the child. More than just deaths, the new nanny from the beginning is told to be his protector and turns out to actually personify the almost instinctual will of the demonic child, and there is a vicious dog that guards the child’s door. To me, all of these aspects fall into the category of the first monster. Is the child a monster? Technically, but this is what the father has to understand. We as an audience, and even the father from pretty early on in the film, get the idea that the child is the antichrist, but this does not complete our or his understanding of it. Like I said there is the weird trilogy of beings, similar to the trinity, which defines 666, and this is the dog, the boy, and the woman. Satan, the antichrist, and the false prophet. This is the first monster.

The second monster lies more in the father. This pertains to Nickel and Carroll’s readings. The father must overcome this philosophical skepticism to kill his child. In the eyes of society by the end of the film, the father is the monster. He tried to kill his child. For some people in the audience, perhaps parents or children, this could be a frightening aspect of the film, identifying you with some aspect of the monster. So in response to Matthew’s post, sure this sort of thing doesn’t happen every day, but the fearful aspect is that for five years this family lived a normal life and then strange things started happening suggesting that their child is the antichrist. Well… lots of people have children and have been living normal lives for so many years. Are they going to ultimately fear their child and have to make the monstrous decision to kill him or her? The tagline to the movie is even “if something frightening happens to you today, think about it. It may be "The Omen." This defines Nickel’s idea of tearing away the intellectual trust that stands behind our actions… after all, aren’t most characters in horror films initially in denial? “I’ve seen that in the movies… It would never happen to me.” So Nickel is right in saying that intellectual backing for trust isn’t necessarily secure, and we can act as if it were; however, that doesn’t sit right with people. Horror simply takes advantage of that.

The Omen, Can it be a Philosophical Good?

The Omen, a 1976 horror movie about the son of the devil, is an eerie and haunting tale. From the beginning of the movie, when Ambassador Thorn is convinced by a priest to take a boy in the hospital after his own child died during birth, throughout the various twists and turns and Thorn’s travels, up until the very final frame, the viewer is tangled into a story rich with clues about whether or not Thorn’s “son,” Damien, is the anti-Christ.

In the beginning of the movie, at Damien’s birthday party, the Thorn’s nanny sees a massive Rottweiler, makes eye contact with it for a period of time, and eventually hangs herself in front of the entire party, and, before she jumps, shouts “Look at me, Damien! It’s all for you.” From this point on, the movie has many haunting moments, whether it be the unexplained deaths of the priest and photographer, the unexplained nanny, Damien’s attempt to kill his mother, or the various trips and characters Ambassador Thorn makes to try to figure out the true identity of his son and what to do about him. Until the very last scene (sorry, I’m not going to ruin it), I was left in a constant state of suspense, trying to piece together the clues given by the priest and photographer, as well as the scenes and depictions of Damien themselves, and until the last five or ten minutes of the movie, Damien’s identity cannot be determined in a doubtless manner.

Philip Nickel explores this sense of uneasiness and horror in his paper Horror and the Idea of Every life. For Nickel, the concept of horror itself is something that needs to be defined philosophically and whether or not it can be good. Nickel himself says his main purpose is “not in defining what horror is but rather in exploring the defense of horror.” Nickel describes two central elements of horror. First, an appearance of the “evil supernatural or of the monstrous” and secondly, the “intentional elicitation of dread, visceral disgust, fear, or startlement in the spectator.” By this definition, The Omen undoubtedly fits into the category of horror, and does so very well. More importantly, to Nickel, is not a definition, but rather this horror genre is something that should be valued. As a genre, horror movies should not be reduced to something as simple as sadistic depictions of violence for perverse eyes, but instead, horror films engage one’s compassionate attitudes, and this is “what makes horror horrifying.” The reactions to the plights of the characters and their outcome and subsequent reflections on their death or maiming instead demonstrate a morally engaged reaction.

Taking this a step further, Nickel tries to tackle the “horror paradox,” btut from a philosophical perspective. This paradox is that we enjoy watching things we know we should not (an example he uses is the stabbing of Marion Crane in Psycho). He argues that there is something good about horror, aesthetically and epistemologically, and that horror helps the viewer gain a perspective on “so-called common sense.” He claims that it helps the viewer to see every day life as one that is not completely safe from threats and that the “security of common sense is a persistent illusion.”

Certainly this argument holds weight in certain horror movies (such as campers being kidnapped in the woods, or a murdered running through the streets killing wildly, as these are realistic threats), but in the sense of The Omen, I find it hard to follow his argument in the sense that The Omen leads viewers away from something (that I believe, at least) that is considered completely farfetched and unlikely to happen. The chances of the anti-Christ being born from a dog and eventually adopted by the President of the United States after killing his whole family and those involved in his birth seem to be far from giving us a “perspective on so-called common sense.”  I will concede, however, that even in a movie with a plot as unlikely as The Omen’s that it does tear away at the illusion of safety caused by common sense. It does make us more aware of our surroundings and to possible threats.

That being said, do you think Nickel’s ideas about what makes horror genre’s hold true in the entire genre of horror? It seems to me like it would only hold true in the instances where a horror movie causes a genuine sense of fear and/or inspection by the viewer, and that in poorly executed films this philosophical good prescribed by Nickel would not apply, as it does not incite these reactions in the viewer. At the same time, however, there are some movies that people believe to be horror films but other laugh at them for being so bad, how can this difference be resolved so that an epistemological good can be found in the genre?

The Death of Horror...An Ill Omen

The Omen, known as one of the landmark horror films that flow into the same vein as The Exorcist, is one of the quintessential films for horror buffs. While I do not deny that at the time of its release in 1976 it was a horrifying film in a portentous way, I cannot help but question whether or not it fulfills the analysis from the philosophical inquiries of Carroll and Nickel have stated. While I do not deny that horror films deal the paradox of having a repellent subject that entices audiences, I believe that both Carroll and Nickel exclude a few phenomena of the human psyche, as well as the nature of a horror film.

            Carroll, in the inquiry “The Paradox of Horror” provides an answer to the conundrum of why people enjoy horror films as much as they do. He explains that it is not the repugnant details of a monster that people find satisfying. Instead, people become intrigued, and continue watching due to the narrative of the film. He continues to say that the horror film is driven by curiosity itself, and that the nature of the monster, due to its anomaly by definition, is what sparks the curiosity, and leaves room for the audience, as well as the characters on film, to “discover” the truth of the monster and defeat it.

            Personally I find this theory of horror to be too wide of a scope to do justice to the unique experience of watching a horror film. Instead of describing horror, it seems to me that Carroll is loosely discussing all of cinema. True, there is something mysterious to a monster, and true, the monster defies categorization, but it seems to me that that is the nature of cinema. If there weren’t the slightest bit of intrigue in a film, we, as audience, would leave the theater to watch something else. If cinema were to catch and portray life, as we know it, the film would be a failure for it would not capture something that may enlighten or educate, or even entertain its viewers.

            Nickel, in a much more interesting article, continues where Carroll left off. His argument focuses on the effect of horror on the audience, as well as finds similarities between the genre of horror and philosophical skepticism and ultimately refutes the notion of Carroll’s paradox, and instead argues that horror films, while they due include grisly details that are meant to inspire dread or at the very least startle the viewer in order to communicate several epistemological truths of the nature of the mind’s understanding of reality. While I agree with Nickel that horror films have the power to make us question the reality that we are in (just think of the first horror film that made you fall asleep with a light on), I do believe that he is mistaken when he claims that the genre of horror can educate persons indefinitely. I will argue that the majority of horror films lose their ability to educate persons due to the passage of time, as well as extend Carroll’s notion of the audience’s curiosity to include the sentiment of pleasure being derived from disgust.

            The Omen is a horror film that revolves around political diplomat, who soon comes to realize that his “son” is in fact the Antichrist after several paranormal deaths occur. One of these deaths includes Robert Thorn’s (the diplomat played by Gregory Peck) own wife. While I can understand why this horror film may be considered a classic, I cannot deny that it was very frightening. Instead, I found the entire film to be humorous in a grotesque (more like cheesy) way. While I admit that this is not the only classic horror film that’s own “horror” has not survived the test of time, I believe that this is a phenomena that must be accounted for in cinema. Due to the rise of realistic special effects in the 21^st century, something has been lost inside of horror. Instead of educating the audience of philosophical skepticism, they merely perform a form of entertainment that provides a “bloody-good” dosage of gore.

            Yet this is nothing new. One only needs to look at the thousands of exploitation films that were quickly released in the fifties through the eighties. The directors intents were to incorporate elements of horror, but instead of rely on suspense, they splashed buckets of ooze and organs to make violent and trashy cinema. It may still be entertaining, but that was its purpose Due to the distortion of horror by exploitation, I’ve noticed the continuing trend inside of horror films. No longer do people try to thrill their audience, they simply try to write and release films that incorporate some mysterious creature with superhuman powers that can obliterate persons in such a way that bloodies up the screen. Directors of these films take inspiration from the Quentin Tarantino’s of directors, and do a shoddy job at it too.

            While I admit that these are by no stretch of the means the rules of horror films (there are exceptions that do a fantastic job at terrifying its audience), I do believe that it is a trend that has escalated to new levels. Horror films from the forties are generally goofy, the fifties had some ups and downs, the sixties brought in new elements, the seventies had its gore and romp-tastic sex, the eighties made those effects better, ditto the nineties, yet they cannot translate into the modern psyche. Maybe this is due to the fact that we’ve seen the tropes before, that the old gore just isn’t real enough for us. The terror has now turned away from the monsters to the mysterious. Directors continue to be inspired by the genius of The Blair Witch Project, while others still make trashy skin flicks that appeal to our grotesque (lovably grotesque) desires. Is there anything wrong with our situation? I don’t think so. We still have some classics, but there are many classics that haven’t survived the trek through time.