Look Who’s Growling, Too: Our Deep, Abiding Love of Roman Polanski’s Rosemary’s Baby

Posted in Films, Halloween, Horror, Retrovirus |

Now let’s get to the heart of some of the things that make this film tick as a nonpareil horror movie, without giving the whole show away:

That opening scene with the credits is one of the most eerie and subtle openings ever, as the camera pans down to the Dakota and there’s that uncanny, wistful “la la la” singing (and it is actually Mia Farrow herself contributing those vocals). It’s a sunny day over the dark and gloomy building; nothing bad has happened yet, but you already feel the impending sense of doom squeezing your heart.

Screencap from dj_capslock

There’s a classic Good-versus-Evil/God-versus-Devil paradigm that runs through this movie on various levels. One of those levels has to do with the two doctors that Rosemary consults. Dr. CC. Hill, as played by Charles Grodin, is the very picture of understanding and calm, and he’s Rosemary’s first obstetrician. During the course of things, under heavy persuasion from “all of them witches,” she switches doctors and seeks advisement from Dr. Sapirstein, a paternal, Santa-Claus-like figure on the surface. Under his care, she chops her hair off and becomes increasingly anorexic-looking. But the creepiness doesn’t stop there. I won’t blow the twist, but suffice to say, the trademark smarmy/oily Grodin character acting seeps forth at the end in a scene that will put your stomach in knots.

Persistent neighbor Minnie Castevet keeps bringing over “vitamin drinks” for Rosemary during her pregnancy. The droning insistence—from the neighbors to her own husband—that Rosemary eat every bite is downright creepy. What’s even creepier is the drugged dessert that Minnie sends over with Guy specifically for Rosemary to eat on the night the baby is conceived. Farrow delivers one of the most chilling, subtle observations after downing her first dose of the anti-Cosby/Jello-Pudding, along the lines of “It has a chalky sort of undertaste.”

Again, without giving it away, when Rosemary dreams, the viewer feels like they’re dreaming, too. Polanski had a remarkable gift for committing that weird feeling of half-asleep/half-dream state to film (for example, 1965′s Repulsion with Catherine Deneuve). Something terrible is indeed happening but we wonder if most of the dread is in our minds (or Rosemary’s). Ironically, the thing that Rosemary doesn’t catch onto until the very end is the one thing which she actually saw, albeit while dreaming.

Screencap from dj_capslock

The most remarkable chain of events in the film occurs when our heroine starts making connections rather quickly, all with the use of some Scrabble tiles and some further research based on her hunches. In clumsy hands, this would look like a ragged episode of Scooby-Doo, but here, we’re able to buy into this nightmarish world. It helps too that Rosemary, while sitting in the doctor’s waiting room, actually picks up a copy of Time magazine that trumpets the headline, “Is God Dead?” One should note this was a real cover story issued in April 8, 1966, in blood red lettering against an all-black background, groundbreaking for Time magazine in the mid-sixties.

And now for some odd coincidences regarding Rosemary’s Baby. . .

Remember, that Time article came out April 8, which is also the birthday of Julian Lennon, son of John who was slain outside The Dakota, which brings us back to the movie location.

Speaking of John Lennon, in the movie Yellow Submarine, a Frankenstein monster drinks a potion (no word on whether or not it had a chalky undertaste) and turns into John Lennon! Yellow Submarine came out in 1968, same year as Rosemary’s Baby.

Charles Manson claimed that the Beatles were speaking to him via the White Album, which was released in 1968. So let’s tie this all together, in a loose conspiratorial way. It was said that Charles Manson’s real target was none other than record-producer Terry Melcher who had dwelled at Roman Polanski’s home before selling it to Polanski and Tate. Why Melcher? Because Melcher worked with The Beach Boys, and Melcher had dismissed the songwriting “talents” of Manson, even though Dennis and Brian Wilson had indulged Manson a bit more in the studio. Going full circle, connect the loopy dots: you’ve got Polanski to Melcher to Manson to Beach Boys to Mike Love (Beach Boy) to Mia Farrow to The Beatles. . . and back again.

With all this in mind, one recoils from the recent news that Michael Bay is producing a remake of Rosemary’s Baby. Not all horror remakes are bad (David Cronenberg’s The Fly and John Carpenter’s The Thing come to mind as exceptional re-imaginings of classic originals), but one suspects that Bay’s previous involvement with remakes has been less about a genuine admiration for the source material and more about the “almighty” dollar. At least Cronenberg and Carpenter had experience with horror films.

Screencap from dj_capslock

The other troubling aspect is of course the question of, “Why?” or perhaps more specifically, what can be added to Rosemary’s Baby to make it more relevant than it already is? Young women who have grown up with post-third-wave-feminism freedoms might not have the pop-cultural background to grasp the significance of a time when a Catholic marrying a Protestant was grounds for dismissal from one’s family. Translating the plot into a modern setting would have to be done with a restrained and skillful hand, not special effects and explosions.

All movies (books, films, television) are a product of their time, but when times have changed so drastically—particularly the landscape of horror films—it seems certain that a few million dollars and a couple of trendy, twentysomething actors won’t be able to add anything more to Rosemary’s Baby‘s still-potent brew.

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