Rosemaryâs Baby
Horror movies about witchcraft and Satanism generally run the severe risk of becoming hokey, corny pieces of crap, usually because the screenwriter is making up his so called lore about the subject as he goes along or because the director is using the initial premise to create an over the top, unrealistic and implausible extravaganza that most audiences usually find pretty hard to swallow. Even upper tier films in the subgenre like The Omen are considered by many to have fallen into this trap, but this seminal 1968 release may very well be the ultimate exception to the rule when it comes to these type of films, probably because it remembers to do its homework when it comes to various real life situations involving people with these types of beliefs and practices, chief among them being that no true Satanists would openly flaunt themselves as being just that to strangers (out of fear of âdiscriminationâ) and would take great pains to make themselves appear publicly as not only being normal, well adjusted people, but sometimes even as apparently faithful Christians or as so called âBible Thumpersâ, figuring that saying the words that would give off that appearance will convince outsiders that they would never engage in witchcraft or any other kind of Pagan activity. However, in terms of whether these types who cast spells and hexes have any true POWER (save for psychological) that actually WORKS is certainly open for debate (they believe they do but it might just be more of a way for them to feel better about themselves rather than really making something happen), but this film goes on the idea of what if one kooky old couple really DID have that power, the kind of power that not only works, but can actually cause their enemies to befall a horrific fate, not to mention being connected from their own modest abode to some prominent and powerful people who have prospered off of their charms? That alone could make a movie of this type work, but then there is the even deeper horror within the story, that of a sweet, pregnant young wife fearing that evil forces are not only at work to bring her harm, but also harm to her unborn baby, an ironic paradox given that the film was directed by Roman Polanski, the extremely acclaimed and controversial filmmaker whose own pregnant wife (Sharon Tate) would be brutally murdered by The Manson Family about a year later, right down to having the child cut out of her own body and murdered separately as well, leading Polanski to go down a dark, neverending rabbit hole that culminated with him becoming a pedophile rapist and a fugitive from American justice. The film stars Mia Farrow (freshly divorced from Frank Sinatra who had been many years older than her) as the title character, a happily married young woman who becomes expectant and soon starts fearing the worst about those around her and the brilliance of Farrowâs casting is in her endearing fragile quality that she brings to the proceedings, the type who always seems to be an easy victim but yet one whom even the viewer can feel protective of as well, with Farrow even carrying the âvictimâ tag (which she hated) into real life when long time boyfriend Woody Allen would betray her by becoming involved with her underage stepdaughter while seeing no punishment come down his way as the stepdaughter would grow up and get married to Woody so that they could live happily ever after while Mia was left standing there like a fool. Here her Rosemary Woodhouse moves into what appears to be her dream apartment with her husband Guy (John Cassavetes in one of his paycheck acting roles used to finance his own filmmaking career) completely unaware of their next door neighbors until she meets another young woman in the laundry room (Victoria Vetri) who confesses to having lived on the streets and being a heroin addict until Farrowâs next door neighbors âtook her inâ and helped her clean up her life. A couple of days later, the same woman plunges from the window of the apartment onto the sidewalk in an apparent suicide and thatâs when we meet her âbenefactorsâ who live next door to Farrow and Cassavetes, an old couple named Roman and Minnie Castevet (Sidney Blackmer and Ruth Gordon, who won a Supporting Actress Oscar for her performance here and parlayed that into playing a series of âzany old womanâ roles for the rest of her life, most notably in Harold And Maude). Blackmerâs Roman is what one would call an exceptionally creepy old man who would excel at making anyone feel uncomfortable in his presence, but Gordonâs Minnie is a supreme pain in the ass, always barging into peopleâs homes (and their lives) with a big mouth and even bigger attitude. After grieving over the dead girl for all of about two minutes, they finally strike up a friendship with their new neighbors as they invite Farrow and her husband over for dinner, only for Cassavetes to become captivated with them for some reason (moreso than his wife) which all leads up to the two of them deciding to have a baby, even picking a specific night when theyâre gonna fuck and thus conceive it. Now the film has established early on that Rosemary has some pretty intense dreams, but on the night of the planned conception, she goes under from either a spell or having too much alcohol, having a dream / vision involving her husband, Gordon, Blackmer, several strangers and even JFK / Jackie Kennedy lookalikes, with the main course being a mysterious creature who claws her a bit and then screws her, with Rosemary waking up the next morning and having Cassavetes admit that HE had screwed her while she was passed out. After finding out that she is pregnant from her doctor (Charles Grodin), sheâs persuaded to take her business to the top obstretician in his field (Ralph Bellamy) whoâs a personal friend of the old neighbors. Now this coupled with the strange death of an old friend (Maurice âDr. Zaiusâ Evans) who had become suspicious and the constant feeding of some kind of mysterious herbal shake to her on a daily basis by Gordon (believed by many to ensure that the baby would be a male which causes Rosemary intense pain and even losing weight instead of gaining it), Rosemary descends into a downward spiral of paranoia and fear which Polanski aptly uses to ratchet up the tension by suggesting that maybe, just maybe her suspicions are all just in her head and that nobody really intends to either harm her or her baby, although the case against her old neighbors The Castevets is so strong that she does manage to at least wrangle out a half hearted admittance of guilt in their case. Above all else, she fears that the coven wishes to use her baby for some sort of a blood sacrifice as she suspects Bellamy and even her husband to be a part of the whole thing, with the now well known horrific truth finally revealed at the ending. The filmâs pacing does meander a bit with its meticulous style and even Farrow herself agreed that her most famous character was just a bit too passive and weak about her plight for her own good. To say that the film is very good in the conventional sense is easy though, with Cassavetes registering about an 11 on the insincerity scale with his constant promises to make it right with his wife only to quickly run back over and hang out with the neighbors next door, Gordon essaying what is easily one of the creepiest old woman characters ever committed to celluloid (a far cry from her lovable Maude and other later characters whom we were supposed to like), Blackmer likewise playing a slyly evil man without going into over the top theatrics (until the end) and even Bellamy giving a slightly unnerving turn that differs from his congenial old men roles that we were so used to seeing from him. But itâs Farrow (on camera almost constantly) who (regardless if one finds her passive or not) carries the day here based on the strength of her stunning vulnerability (no actress before or since could ever bring off the sweet innocent quality quite as well) and her Rosemary (who has a habit of talking to herself with her little asides) is someone whom we get inside her head with as viewers and see things from her point of view better than anyone else in the story despite her unstable mental condition (could the final reveal scene be just a hallucination of her sick mind?), making us as viewers want to beat the shit out of John Cassavetes and to protect her from all things evil simply because weâve come to care about her so much, a lost art form in the sometimes generic world of horror filmmakingâŚ
8/10