[Movie Review] ‘The Omicron Killer’ (2024)
Paugh Shadow in The Omicron Killer (2024). Image courtesy of IMDb.
The COVID-19 pandemic has left a lasting scar on the world, but one of the few silver linings that we can take from the experience is the sea of pandemic-inspired horror that came out of quarantine. From Rob Savage's inventive Host, which used Zoom as a conduit for a seance-summoned spirit, to John Hyam's home invasion slasher Sick, written by Kevin Williamson and Katelyn Crabb, COVID's influence on the horror genre will likely be felt for years to come.
For Jeff Knite, this influence comes in the form of “The COVID Killer,” a serial killer whose murderous rampage inspires a copycat in his newest film, The Omicron Killer. Featuring an impressive cast of faces that fans of any age are sure to recognize, including Bai Ling (The Crow, Southland Tales), Felissa Rose (Sleepaway Camp, Terrifier 2), and Lynn Lowry (Shivers, The Crazies), The Omicron Killer opens with an over-the-shoulder shot of the COVID Killer unwittingly walking into a sting operation in what might be a nod to the opening scene of Halloween (1978) or, perhaps, Psycho (1960). If so, it certainly wouldn’t be the film’s only reference to horror icons; the movie is littered with them. Here though, somewhat confusingly, the first shot of the sequence features a camera overlay as if the killer had an accomplice behind him, recording the encounter, but no other shot in the scene includes the overlay and it isn’t referenced ever again.
Rather, the establishing scene is used to introduce the killer’s killer—who can himself be killed one year later by the copycat. It’s an effective introduction to the Omicron Killer, played by producer and co-writer Paugh Shadow, and easily my favorite character in the film. The hulking character seems to tower over everyone else in the film, his size accentuated by the thick, gray beard bursting around an almost comically small-in-comparison facemask. When the killer crosses paths with a trio of muggers, it’s not a stretch to believe he’s capable of the brutal punishment he deals out.
Harder to believe, however, is the nonchalant incompetence displayed by the officers investigating the mugging. While it’s played for a bit of comic relief, as well as to contrast against Lynn Lowry’s grouchy captain, the film has only just begun and so any building tension is quickly dispelled by the shift in tone. In fact, as successful as Shadow is at bringing a dark intensity to his role, aided by the booming score that accompanies him, it feels as though he’s the outlier in a film that wants to adopt a bit of a lighter approach.
The bipolarity of the film isn’t just in tone, though. The Omicron Killer’s secondary villain, Krazy Klowny, is in many ways the “anti-Omicron.” Heavily inspired by Freddy Krueger, Klowny appears to simultaneously be wreaking havoc on the city and haunting the Omicron Killer’s own nightmares, and doing so while slicing through the fourth wall. Perhaps a more apt comparison between characters though, is between Bai Ling’s Nurse Nancy and Richard Bernstein’s Dr. Frueger. After the killer is admitted to the hospital following his “surviving” his mugging, Nurse Nancy immediately—and bizarrely—takes to him, fawning over him with no real explanation, except to counter Dr. Frueger’s similarly bizarre cruelty. Just as Nancy’s attentiveness feels out of place, Frueger’s sadism toward his patient appears to lack much motivation. Add in the not-so-glamorous characterization of New York’s finest and it’s a pretty damning interpretation of the Big Apple’s public services.
Felissa Rose in The Omicron Killer (2024). Image courtesy of IMDb.
And yet, the film’s only really just begun! Still to come are the hidden-in-plain-sight machinations of the “COVID Cult” led by Edie Schaefer (Felissa Rose), a group of occultists hell-bent on raising the original COVID Killer from the grave by performing midday rituals near the killer’s grave at a public cemetery. Needless to say, they are seen—often—and quickly capture the attention of the cops. The cult, too, has an air of incompetency, though it’s played a little more successfully than it is with the police.
With an imminent showdown between the Omicron Killer and Krazy Klowny, ongoing investigations into both the cult’s activities and the string of deaths that follow Omicron, and a Lost Boys-esque subplot of kids trying to catch the killer, themselves, The Omicron Killer finds itself with a lot of competing threads that don’t always make for the best transitions. Its attempts at bending the genre frequently feels at odds with itself, but I can’t deny the on-screen presence that the killer, himself, has. Of all the COVID-inspired horror we’ve gotten, though, I like the idea of personifying the virus as a serial killer, and turning its variants into copycats is a stroke of genius, though I’d have liked to see that fleshed out a little further. Jeff Knite has already indicated his intention to expand the universe around The Omicron Killer and although Omicron doesn’t show any evidence of Myers/Voorhees-like supernatural powers, I really hope Knite and Shadow find a way to keep the character in the game.
Article written by Ande Thomas
Ande loves the intersection of sci-fi and horror, where our understanding of the natural world clashes with our fear of the new and unknown. He writes about monsters and foreign horror and can also be found over on Letterboxd.
