Image by grafikacesky from Pixabay Over the course of the last thirty-one days, I’ve talked about some horror movies I rather despise. I’ve talked about some horror movies I really enjoy, and some that surprised me. Today, I bring my horror blogs for the year to an end by discussing my favorite horror film of all time: the 1968 classic Rosemary’s Baby.
[NOTE: This blog will contain spoilers for “Rosemary’s Baby.” You have been warned.] In 1967, American publisher Random House released the newest book from thriller novelist Ira Levin. Before it even hit shelves, however, Paramount Pictures purchased the film rights to the novel. The orchestrator of this move was Paramount executive Robert Evans (who produced other classics as True Grit, The Godfather, Serpico, and Chinatown), who admired the films of Paris-born Polish director Roman Polanski. At the time, Polanski was unknown to American audiences but had garnered attention in Europe for such films as Knife in the Water (1962) and Repulsion (1965). He had even been nominated for an Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film for the latter, but had yet to make his mark in Hollywood. At Evans’s behest, Polanski read Levin’s novel cover-to-cover in one night, called Evans the next morning, and expressed interest in adapting the story of a young New York socialite who is impregnated with the offspring of Satan himself. Thus, the seed was planted for Rosemary’s Baby. The film was released on June 12, 1968 to universal critical acclaim and respectable box office success, earning over 33 million dollars on a budget of just over three million. For her portrayal of the charmingly meddlesome neighbor Minnie Castevet, Ruth Gordon won an Oscar for Best Supporting Actress while Polanski was nominated for Best Adapted Screenplay. Today the film is credited with a “horror boom” in both the literary and cinematic worlds, inspiring other famous movies like The Exorcist (1973) and The Omen (1976). So, why is Rosemary’s Baby my favorite horror film of all time? To answer that question sufficiently, I must first address what was perhaps my biggest problem with the film initially. I found the first thirty minutes or so to drag a bit, and while this deliberate pace pays off later I struggled to stay engaged due to my lack of sympathy for the protagonists Rosemary and Guy Woodhouse (played by Mia Farrow and John Cassavetes, respectively). Their relationship came off as rather forced for me, so I found it difficult to buy into caring about them as individuals or about their life together. But I beseech those who experience the same or a similar struggle as I did to stick out the first thirty minutes. If you do, this film will not disappoint. By its conclusion, I greatly appreciated the slower pacing of the beginning before the movie never stops ramping up for the next one-hundred minutes or so. The reason I ultimately came to greatly cherish the film’s opening scenes is because of what they imply without ever giving clear, in-your-face answers. For example, one of the earliest scenes in the film comes just after Rosemary and Guy have officially moved into their new apartment and been welcomed by the elderly married couple down the hall: Roman and Minnie Castevet (played by Sidney Blackmer and Ruth Gordon, respectively). Rosemary is acquainted with Terry Gionoffrio (Angela Dorian), a fellow tenant and recovering drug addict who the Castevets have taken in. She seems to appreciate all that Roman and Minnie have done for her, and yet only days later has jumped to her death from the Castevets’ window. Barely fifteen minutes into the movie and I already had so many questions. If she liked her keepers so much, then why jump? Did she jump of her own accord, or was she pushed? Why speak so highly of the Castevets if indeed she despised them? To what extent did Terry have control over her mental faculties in her final days, and what (if anything) did the Castevets have to do with her state of mind at the hour of her death? So many potential answers to these questions, but I could not think about them in the moment. Because then I move onto another very curious scene. Some nights after Terry’s apparent suicide, Rosemary and Guy are invited over to dinner by the Castevets. At this point in the film, Rosemary prefers to be cordial and polite but Guy wants nothing to do with their old neighbors. But once in their residence, Guy’s outlook shifts completely. Off-screen, an implied conversation between Guy and Roman happens and then, upon returning home, Guy expresses his sudden fondness for the Castevets while Rosemary is beginning to find them obnoxious and intrusive. Again, so many questions. What suddenly changed Guy’s mind about the Castevets? What did Roman say to Guy that suddenly made him out to be a saint in disguise as an old man? Do the Castevets have some sort of uncanny ability to bend others’ perception of them to their will? The movie remains this way for nearly two hours of its 136-minute runtime. Slowly―and deliberately―Polanski gives the audience a tidbit here and smidge there to stimulate their curiosity. Until the final scene of the film, we never fully understand what is going on. We guess, we contemplate, and we deduce both during and after watching. But one never fully comprehends the events of Rosemary’s Baby. We can only keep thinking about it. And this is the reason I love this film. After seeing it for the first time, I knew it would be a film I revisited multiple times throughout my life in the attempt to try and fully understand what exactly is going on in every scene. It is a film that welcomes speculation and critical thinking without demanding it; one can sit and watch the horrific events of Rosemary’s pregnancy unfold and simply be horrified by them. But I get much more enjoyment out of this film every time I start thinking about it again. Of course, this expertly crafted story would be impossible without the unquestionably impeccable, mesmerizing, and poignant performances from everyone involved. To begin with who is, in my opinion, the star of the film: Mia Farrow. She is a fantastic lead who allows the audience to become fully absorbed and invested in her journey from the get-go. For the first thirty minutes, I am reflecting on the power dynamics of her relationship with Guy and the extent to which she has some control, if any. But for the remainder of the runtime, I am utterly gripped by Rosemary’s menial grip on the reality that is her tragic existence be ripped away by those around her, from her nosy neighbors and domineering husband to her manipulative obstetrician Dr. Abraham Sapirstein (Ralph Bellamy). Which gets to my love for the supporting cast that (in different, but equally important ways) enhance Rosemary’s downward spiral into seeming madness and paranoia. To begin with John Cassavetes, who plays Rosemary’s husband Guy. A struggling actor whose job at home is to reassure his wife of the benign nature of her pregnancy and keep her from believing the truth, Cassavetes (while, in my opinion, the least remarkable actor in the movie) does a more-than-serviceable job in this role. One of the standout supporting actors is Bellamy as Dr. Sapirstein. Regarding the latter, Bellamy’s ruthlessly unempathetic obstetrician plays a pivotal role in the Castevets’ conspiracy by being the sole authority figure in Rosemary’s life that is effective at quelling her suspicions (at least to a point). As someone who remains fascinated by the notorious psychology experiments of Stanley Milgram and Philip Zimbardo, I found the dynamic between these two characters to be the most interesting during the film’s second act. But, the unquestionable star among the supporting cast is Ruth Gordon. Her portrayal of Minnie Castevet is multi-dimensional; within her first couple of scenes, she is clearly someone who can be your best friend one minute and your greatest enemy the next. Gordon embraces this off-kilter appearance so well that when she becomes one of the most vocal antagonists towards Rosemary in the final scene it is both believable and upsetting for all the right reasons. I have watched many horror films in my life. From old-school classics and serious, dramatic tales to newer releases and gut-busting horror-comedies, I feel that I have become fairly well-versed in the visual language that is horror cinema despite not having watched every notable movie in this genre. Yet, Rosemary’s Baby is a film that I keep coming back to in my mind. Not because I enjoyed every minute of it, but because its use of subtlety and intrigue make it a film worth my time and mental energy. It works on so many levels besides horror, primarily resonating with me as a psychological drama about a young, vulnerable woman whose good nature but natural skepticism lead her down the path of no return as a victim of pure, unrestrained evil. And that is why Rosemary’s Baby is my favorite horror film of all time. To celebrate my horror-themed blogs from the month of October, I have listed below my rankings of all the movies that I have written about:
What is your favorite horror film? What are your thoughts on Rosemary’s Baby? What opinions of mine do you find absolutely ridiculous? Let me know in the comments below. I hope everybody has a fun and safe Halloween! Until next time, this has been… Yours Truly, Amateur Analyst
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Austin McManusI have no academic or professional background in film production or criticism; I simply love watching and talking about movies. Archives
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