Sequel follows the rules from the original, but by doing so it also takes few risks and is a unnecessary film as it pretty much retells everything from the original and doesn't enhance the overall story much further. But, it do deliver well directed gory, original death sequences for a Hollywood horror movie and the actors playing the Devil worshipers are great. Only for horror fans though.
Not wearing its commercial venality lightly this pointless cash-in is a stodgy tick-list of ever more fanciful death scenes. The film seems to exist for these showy set piece exterminations and nothing else - even the cod-religious references of the first film are muffled. Goldsmith's electronic riff on his existing score is a minor compensation. Whether Hodges would have risen above the formulaic will never be known
The second entry in the series was a lesser achievement taking Damien seven years further down the road to military school and having him find out about his birthright. The scares take a back seat this time save a vicious roadside bird attack that impresses. Casting is apt with Lee Grant best in show with her blood curdling cry of 'his' name.
The Omen films are basically slashers without a slasher, akin to the modern Final Destination series. When this sequel is at its best it features some quite memorable scenes that create dimension for Damien that the first neglected-- mainly involving him finding out his destiny-- but like that original film, the horror scenes and death sequences fall into too much of a predictable pattern.
A troubled production(two directors)that nonetheless bred a top-shape sequel that trades the lukewarm domestiqué of the original for bolder action: both a slasher-less slasher flick and a coming-of-age-lite about being Satan's son, Omen II is completely entertaining and ambitiously finds its footing: bigger, brasher. What if during puberty you find out you were the Antichrist? Some scenes truly ended up great. [cont]
Poor old Bill Holden has to deal with the anti-Christ while also juggling the running of a multinational company with wearing a disconcertingly sizeable collection of tank-top/tweed jacket combos (although perhaps all that is small-fry after Norma Desmond). But hey, someone's disemboweled by an elevator, so it's not all bad.