Rosemary’s Baby, or: No No No No No No

One last film for Horror Month even though it’s November! Rosemary’s Baby, which I’m not ashamed to admit I watched during the day. Demon babies, you guys. As if I didn’t find childbirth horrendous enough to begin with.

Find out if Christa is made of sterner stuff here!

The Film:

Rosemary’s Baby

The Premise:

I really hope you have a basic idea of the premise b/c I’m about to spoil the fuck out of this film. Please stop reading this review and watch the film if you haven’t.

The Uncondensed Version:

We’re off to an ominous start with the fucking creepy lullaby that opens our film. It’s really effective, but I hate it.

Basic setup is that Guy, a struggling actor, and his wife, Rosemary are looking for an apartment so they can settle down and make some babies. It’s really hard to watch the apartment hunt without constantly screaming “Don’t do it! Don’t fucking do it, Rosemary! Don’t open that door! Don’t move that fucking dresser!” Plus it’s really frustrating to watch all the men totally dismiss everything Rosemary says ALL THE DAMN TIME even though she is a really observant person and is usually fucking right.

Inevitably, Guy and Rosemary move into the creepy apartment even though their only genuine friend tells them in detail all of the shit that happened there.

It doesn’t take long before Rosemary meets a woman who lives in the building. This lady has a troubled past, but a seemingly nice couple has taken her in and given her a good luck charm that may or may not contain herbs to be used in Satanic rituals (it does). The two women decide to do laundry together, which is I guess is how women socialized in the ‘60s.

All of this comes to a halt when the lady from the laundry room ends up dead on the sidewalk in an apparent suicide. In their grief, Minnie and Roman, the “nice” couple from the apartment building, invite Guy and Rosemary over for dinner.

RUN AWAY.

So begins the most disturbing relationship between neighbors I can think of outside of Hitchcock. Roman does give us some nice lines about religion being all show business, but it makes me really reconsider the appreciation I have for criticizing organized religion. I am running the other way from the next person I hear disparaging the Pope.

Even though Guy was not into the idea of hanging out with the nosy neighbors, he becomes close with Roman. Meanwhile, Minnie is constantly inviting herself over and giving Rosemary things, like a Satan good luck charm of her very own.

Shortly after, Guy gets a part he’d auditioned for when another actor suddenly goes blind. Guy feels conflicted for approximately 3 seconds, but takes the role anyway and decides he’s ready to try for a baby. The baby making goes terribly wrong when Minnie brings mousse that Rosemary says has a chalky aftertaste. Fucking Guy says there’s no aftertaste and tells her to finish the mousse. GIRL. GET THE FUCK OUT.

Worst human being.

The mousse gives Rosemary really disturbing dreams, which she suddenly realizes weren’t dreams at all. When she wakes up, she has scratches all over her back, and Guy explains that he continued with their baby making plans when Rosemary was passed out. Gross gross gross gross gross.

I don’t want to completely spoil the entire movie, so let’s just say the creepiness continues to escalate (seriously, though, watch the damn film).

Everyone thinks it’s appropriate to control all elements of Rosemary’s pregnancy and even her hair. She gets so much shit for her pixie cut that I’m amazed she didn’t give anyone a black eye.

Proper response when you don’t like someone’s haircut: KEEP IT TO YOURSELF.

And I admit I know little to nothing about pregnancy, but the doctor tells her the stabbing pain in her chest is normal. Fucking men.

The Critique:

URGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGH, I am even more afraid of childbirth after this film (that and parties). I think I should just get my ovaries removed now.

This film gets to the terror and claustrophobia of big city life or maybe that’s just the antisocial impulse in me. Also men being, as a whole, a bunch of douchebags.  It’s incredibly frustrating that a film in which a woman is manipulated by men and has no control over her own body is still so relevant.

There is no film as suspenseful as this one besides Strangers on a Train or perhaps Chinatown. It occurs to me how similar this is to Chinatown, actually, and Mia Farrow/Faye Dunaway could be twins. I really want to watch that film now, but I should probably just leave it…it’s Chinatown.

The Rating:

5/5 Pink Panther Heads

I don’t know if this film is more creepy or enraging, but it’s a good one either way.

Find out if Christa is creeped out, enraged, or completely unperturbed in her review here!