A young couple moves in to an apartment only to be surrounded by peculiar neighbors and occurrences. When the wife becomes mysteriously pregnant, paranoia over the safety of her unborn child begins to control her life.
Desirous of starting a family, the young Catholic housewife, Rosemary Woodhouse, and her struggling actor husband, Guy, move into the Bramford, New York's iconic building which brims with unpleasant stories of obscure dwellers and ghastly occurrences. Before long, the young couple is befriended by their elderly and somehow eccentric next-door neighbours, Roman and Minnie Castevet--and shortly after--Rosemary unexpectedly gets pregnant. However, little by little, as the inexperienced mother becomes systematically cut off from her circle and friends, alarming hints of a well-planned and sinister conspiracy will begin to emerge, enfolding Rosemary in a shroud of suspicion and mental agony. In the end, why is everyone so conveniently eager to help; furthermore, why is Guy allowing it?Written by
Guy becomes a huge movie star in the sequel, Look What's Happened to Rosemary's Baby (1976), and then he dies while trying to save Andy. Rosemary gets transported off by a possessed bus never to be seen again, also while trying to save Andy- (the implication is she gets killed, just like Guy). Andy runs away from the coven; we're not sure what happens to him. After getting raped by Marjean (Tina Louise), a woman he meets that is in cahoots with the coven, he winds up unintentionally giving birth to a son which is also adopted by the Castavets just like he was. See more »
Rosemary didn't close the closet door all the way before fetching the knife because towels and linens were blocking it, but the door is completely closed when she returns. See more »
The film originally proved problematic for the UK censors and the rape scene was toned down by the BBFC for the cinema release with edits made to remove dialogue and shots of Rosemary's legs being bound. All later UK video releases featured the uncut print. See more »
"Rosemary's Baby" is one of the best horror films ever made. This isn't because it's going to scare the pants off you with a series of sensational jolts. This isn't the shallow, gimmicky kind of horror movie we mostly get these days, and it isn't the traditional old-fashioned horror film of an earlier era. This is a movie that came out during a period of transition in Hollywood. The old production codes were breaking down and films could suddenly be more true to life in the way they showed how people really lived, acted and talked. 1968s "Rosemary's Baby" is a more sophisticated, less elegant thriller of the kind that Alfred Hitchcock patented, but it displays much more class and intelligence than the horror movies that would come out in its wake. Popular '70s films such as "The Exorcist" and "The Omen" are the prodigy of "Rosemary's Baby," but offer far less nuance and much greater vulgarity. What we get here is a more naturalistic depiction of modern life, but without the crassness that would soon explode into American cinema.
Most of the credit for what makes "Rosemary's Baby" such a successful film goes to Roman Polanski. Polanski is a master at conveying to an audience not just a sense of the uncanny but a vivid depiction of it. His earlier films like "Knife in the Water," "Repulsion" and "Dance of the Vampires," display the talents that would come to such a controlled mastery in "Rosemary's Baby."
Polanski very faithfully adapts Ira Levin's novel to the screen so that the viewer is, just as the reader was, free to interpret the eerie events of the story as either reality or a depiction of an isolated woman's decent into madness. At the same time the picture can be taken as a black joke on the human male's fears of the changes a woman goes through during pregnancy, both physically and emotionally. But Polanski seems most interested in presenting a normal world, in this case Manhattan in the mid 1960s, and then through subtle cinematic techniques get an audience to actually believe that the hysterical, fantastic ravings of the heroine could be true. It is this tour de force exercise in suspension of disbelief that makes the film a classic. The horror films that have come since have had to ratchet up the shock effects in order to thrill more desensitized audiences, but this deliberately paced film reminds us of how much better it is to leave things to the imagination of the viewer. That is where films really come alive and remain so.
The Paramount DVD presents an excellent print of the movie that looks as if it were shot yesterday, along with extras that include new interviews with Polanski, executive producer Bob Evans and production designer Richard Sylbert, and a featurette from the time of the film's original release that really works as a good time capsule.
99 of 124 people found this review helpful.
Was this review helpful to you?
| Report this