Rosemary and her husband, Guy Woodhouse, have their eyes on a new apartment in Manhattan. A friend warns them about mysterious deaths linked to the building, but they decide to move in. Shortly after settling in, the Castevets, an elderly couple from the building, invite them to dinner. Though initially hesitant, Guy grows unexpectedly fascinated by the Castevets. When he expresses his desire for Rosemary to have a child, a lifelong dream of hers, she is thrilled at first but grows increasingly uneasy…
There is something unsettling about a movie from the 60s that is still relevant today, with its exploration of bodily autonomy and the loss of control feeling disturbingly timeless. Rosemary’s increasing paranoia is cast off as nonsensical, and she is gaslit to the extreme, isolated, and controlled by nearly everyone around her. The viewer is masterfully tethered to Rosemary’s perspective through close-ups and POV shots, communicating her confusion and fear. The horror slowly emerges from the seemingly «normal» everyday reality of modern urban life, which provides the ideal breeding ground for fear, alienation, and paranoia. Rosemary’s Baby is rightly regarded as one of the greatest horror films in cinematic history.
Adrian Molière
Content notes: sexual assault, self-harm, abuse