Rosemary's Baby (1968)
Directed by Roman Polanski

Film Review

Roman Polanski marked his filmmaking debut in America with this chilling thriller, which is almost a reworking of his 1965 horror masterwork, Repulsion.  Both films - plus his subsequent thriller Le Locataire (1976) - form a loose trilogy whose theme is the gradual mental disintegration in what appears to be, at the outset, a perfectly normal individual.  Whilst Repulsion is the best of the three films, for its artistic style, impact and sheer originality, Rosemary's Baby comes a close second, its effect stemming from the way in which Polanski cleverly subverts the normality of everyday life and slowly transforms it into a gruesome nightmare.

Although it is often cited as a horror film, it would perhaps be more accurate to classify Rosemary's Baby as a psychological thriller with some shots of black comedy.  The film is unsettling and moody, but it isn't what you might call overtly scary.  The film's strength lies in the way that Polanski plays out the ambiguity in the drama - we never know whether what we are seeing is real or a figment of Rosemary's over-active imagination.  Indeed, the denouement to the drama is so outlandish, so different to the everyday realism that defines much of the film, that it has to be a dream, surely?  Or is it?  Despite its comical underbelly and surreal edge, the ending is a logical, even plausible, conclusion to Rosemary's experiences, so maybe it is real after all.  Much of the fun and thrill of this film is that we never quite know where the borderline between fantasy and reality lies, and that also accounts for its deeply disturbing, all-pervading mood of paranoia and dread.  Chances are that if you had neighbours like the creepy Casavets in real life, you'd move house like a shot - particularly if they started offering you milky drinks laced with pungent herbs.  (Conversely, this suggests a very good way of getting rid of neighbours you don't like.)

The film is also memorable for the quality of its acting performances.  In one of her most respectable screen appearances, Mia Farrow shows what she is capable of when steered by a creative, non-nonsense director and fed with a decent script.  John Cassavetes is genuinely scary as her on-screen partner, although the creepier-than-Hell awards must go to Ruth Gordon and Sidney Blackmer, who play the Castevet couple.  Ruth Gordon won the Best Supporting Actress Oscar for her role in this film, which she reprised in a totally misguided television sequel, Look What's Happened to Rosemary's Baby in 1976.

The popularity of Rosemary's Baby led to a significant revival in the horror film in Hollywood in the late 1960s, early 1970s, providing the inspiration for numerous films of the genre, including notably The Exorcist (1973) and The Omen (1976).  Whilst many of these films are now regarded as classics, they are less effective than Polanski's film, mainly because they are forced to portray fantasy as reality, resorting to simple shock tactics to achieve a horrific impact.  The power of Rosemary's Baby is that the horror element is created entirely in the mind of the spectator, and is hence far more effective than any explicit portrayal of horror on screen.  The film is scary not because we see people being viscerally butchered left, right and centre, but because we identify so closely with a vulnerable character whose experiences, imaginary or otherwise, carry her into a living Hell.  Modern filmmakers who want to make an effective horror film can learn a great deal from Rosemary's Baby .

Film Synopsis

Rosemary and Guy Woodhouse, a newlywed couple, move into an old New York apartment, happily ignoring stories of the building's sinister past - tales of murder, witchcraft and ritual cannibalism.  They take an immediate dislike to their overly friendly neighbours, Minnie and Roman Castevet, who use every opportunity to intrude upon them after their lodger, a young woman, commits suicide.  One night, Rosemary has a bizarre dream, in which she is raped by a demonic figure.  The next morning, her back is covered in scratches; her husband admits to having made these whilst making love to her in her sleep.  Rosemary is overjoyed to learn that she is pregnant, as are the Castevets, who fix her up with a doctor and give her a daily herbal potion to help her pregnancy.  When Guy lands a plum acting job, at the expense of a rival, Rosemary begins to get suspicious.  She notices how friendly her husband and the Castevets have become.  He even forbids her to see another doctor when she starts to suffer from pregnancy pains.  Then her close friend Hutch falls inexplicably into a coma.  He leaves her a book about witchcraft, which reveals a link with the Castevets.  Rosemary is convinced that she is being used, and that her baby is intended to play a part in some satanic ritual.  Is she right or is she imagining the whole thing…?