By Athena Hueber
Rosemary’s Baby (1968) directed by Roman Polanski
An In-Depth Analysis On The Birth of Ill Intentions
By: Athena Hueber
“They promised me you wouldn’t be hurt,” he said. “And you haven’t been, really. I mean, suppose you’d had a baby and lost it; wouldn’t it be the same? And we’re getting so much in return, Ro.”
There is the stereotype for girls that we obsess about a white picket fence, an illustrious wedding, kids, Barbie dolls, the color pink, and liking boys. I didn’t fall into this category and because I deviated from this, I had trouble with a lot of my interpersonal relationships. Flash forward to my early twenties, I remember a conversation with an ex-boyfriend, “I wanted to marry you but you had to throw it away.” This display of spiteful words made me realize how a lot of people don’t appreciate marriage as a ritual of respect and familial congregation but as a way to “fix things” or as a tool to shape someone into something they’re not. Holding onto a fixation on being obedient to the insecurities of others and their possession of you caused a lot of anxiety in me into my adulthood. Even more so by suggesting pregnancy. Rosemary’s Baby provoked these kinds of questions to myself on the subject of the birth of a child and being with a person on such an intimate level.
I saw Roman Polanski’s adaptation when I was 7-years-old (and I would later go onto watch almost his entire filmography.) It was on our old, boxy TV, specifically on the Sci-Fi channel (now SyFy) part of its 31 Days of Halloween series that played horror movies all month long in October. A bit macabre and inappropriate for a kid my age, I’m aware but my parents were relatively lax about movies like that. If a film frightened me too much, my dad would explain parts of the film in detail. “Do you see how they didn’t ACTUALLY get hit? Right there.” Being able to notice the nuances of horror films in such a way allowed me to look at them in an analytical method. There are still some horror films that can elicit an emotional reaction from me (I’m looking at you, Midsommar.) Rosemary’s Baby is no exception in what it explores.
Set in the mid-1960’s New York City, young Rosemary and Guy Woodhouse (Mia Farrow who played in Peyton Place (1964-1966) and was famous for her high profile relationships with stars such as Frank Sinatra and Woody Allen and John Cassevetes, most notably famous for his Academy Award-nominated film, A Woman Under the Influence (1974) which starred his wife, Gena Rowlands) move into the illustrious Bramford apartment building where one of their flats recently became available from an old woman who died. Upon entering, they notice that the furniture has not been moved and begin to pursue the remnants of its previous tenant. A room with various plants growing (seemingly for usage), Victorian furniture, classic paintings...and a closet blocked by a large armoire. The agent assisting them with the tour turns in surprise, “Why that’s odd...there’s a closet behind that secretary. I’m sure there is!” He asks for Guy’s help and the two of them move it to reveal the closet. They place it back to its original spot and realize how heavy it is. “She couldn’t have moved it by herself, she was 89...” The agent opens the closet and there is a vacuum cleaner and towels. Rosemary asks, “Why would she cover up her vacuum cleaner and her towels?” The agent sighs and says, “I suppose we’ll never know.” Not dismayed, Rosemary and Guy agree to rent the apartment.
As they move in seamlessly, the portrait of each other's personas begins to be painted. Rosemary, a quiet and bubbly young woman with a curious nature as a stay-at-home wife is balanced by Guy, an actor, who keeps up the conversation with clever laughs and affectionately calls his wife, “Ro.” They have dinner with a friend from their previous apartment, Edward “Hutch” Hutchins, who is aware of their new complex’s history. He warns them that Bramford is known for “unpleasant” occurrences such as cannibalism, witchcraft (specifically a man named Adrian Marcato who stated he had conjured the “living devil” in the late 1800’s and was almost murdered for this claim) as well as a dead baby being found wrapped in a newspaper just 6 years prior. Rosemary states that there are bad things that happen in every apartment and Guy keeps his eyes to his plate, shrugging it off, “You really rouse my appetite.” Another warning, even from their friend is seen as nonsense as they carry through their meal.
Some time after, the two return home at night to see that a young woman named Terry Gionoffrio, who Rosemary had met doing laundry in their building a few days ago committed suicide by jumping out the window. The scene is closed off by police and onlookers as Minnie and Roman Castevet (played by Ruth Gordon, who would later become famous for Harold and Maude (1971) and Sidney Blackmer, who had acted in almost 200 films before dying in 1973.) Terry had told Rosemary that she was recovering drug addict living with the two who happen to be their neighbors at Bramford. The young couple introduces themselves to the distraught Castevets after Rosemary mentions that Terry “had a brother in the Navy.” Her thoughtfulness seems to touch Minnie who thanks her. Later that night, portrayed through a montage of anxieties, Rosemary has trouble sleeping and hears Minnie Castevet arguing with her husband through the thin walls of their apartment. She tosses and turns then finally falls asleep, dreaming of her time in Catholic school with a nun yelling at her, pointing to the window of a church with a row of children standing against the wall in their uniforms. Through her slumber, Minnie continues to speak, “We would have been all set to go now, instead of starting from scratch! I told ya not to tell her in advance, I told ya she wouldn’t be open-minded!” The dream seems to be happening just behind her bed as it cuts to Rosemary looking up at the dream, apologising to the “Sister.”
Minnie appears at their door next the day, stating she wanted to thank Rosemary for being so kind to them the night of Terry’s death as they felt they “failed” her in her recovery. She asks Rosemary, “Do you have children of your own?” To which she says no. As she enters the apartment, Minnie seems delighted at the changes that the couple have done to their new home with brighter colors and more space, mentioning that the previous owner was a “dear friend.” However, some questions on how much some of Woodhouses’ belongings cost seem to bother Rosemary. Guarded but trying to be kind, she mentions that one room in particular is going to be the nursery and that she and Guy are planning on having three children together. Minnie states how “young” and “healthy” Rosemary is so she doesn’t have to worry. The two talk more in the kitchen and she mentions that Guy is “so good looking” and says that Rosemary should feel so lucky. Minnie asks her if they would like to come over for dinner and she politely says she will have to check with Guy when he comes home as a way to end the conversation. These rapid fire questions were commonplace during the time period -- but are still expected today. Rosemary being in her twenties reminds me of my own interaction on my decision for children, as if I was a separate entity from my own uterus.
Guy comes home in the evening and there is a shift in his demeanor as if the wind has been taken out of him. Rosemary jumps up, wrapping her arms around him and he pats her on the backside. After leaving the room to grab dinner for him, Guy sits down and sighs, “Donald Baumgart got that part...Even if it falls out of town, it’s the kind of part that gets noticed.” (A side note, I didn’t realize that Tony Curtis voiced this character on the phone in the film) She tries to downplay it, stating that it’s a “bad play anyway” but he feels defeated. Rosemary tells Guy that she feels that Minnie is “nosy” but mentions the invitation given earlier on the old woman’s earlier visit. Tired and feeling down, he initially does not feel up to being around the elder couple stating that they’ll “never be able to get rid of them” but Rosemary states she told Minnie that she was supportive, along with Guy. She turns to him, coyly stating they don’t have to go to which he smiles, relenting that it would be his good deed for the day. “We’ll make it clear, it’s just for this one night and not the beginning of anything,” Rosemary reassures.
Right on the dot, the Castevets welcome the Woodhouses into their home and Roman hands them “vodka blushes” then clumsily spills leftovers of it onto the floor. The cocktail originating in Australia (which I didn’t realize the recipe is so simple -- vodka, grenadine, and lime juice) prompts Rosemary to ask if Roman is from there or if he travels for work. The patriarch denies it. He boasts about his travels to the two since he was a young boy, repeating, “You name a place, I’ve been there.” Conversation continues into the night where Roman continues to dominate the narrative, mentioning a protest going on, “No Pope ever visits a city where the newspapers are on strike.” Minnie states they are unsure whether the Pope will come after it’s over and Guy states, “Well that’s showbiz.” This lights up Roman smiling, comparing the religious population to actors in costumes with grand rituals. The elderly couple turn to Rosemary and ask if they’ve offended her. She states that they have not, but insinuates that they should be more respectful as, “Well he is the Pope.” Roman smirks to her, “You don’t need to have respect for him because he pretends that he’s holy.” This triggers Guy to be in agreement. With his willingness to take part in Roman’s opinions, the talk turns to Guy’s own desires. “Did you ever get to play that lead part, Guy?” Roman goes onto to praise Guy’s acting and it seems to flatter him from his previous melancholy state of mind a few hours before. After dinner, Rosemary helps Minnie with the dishes where they continue their talk of children. When the two are done, they meet the men in the living room where Guy seems to be very concerned but shakes it off.
The Woodhouses leave for the night and laugh at how “odd” the old couple is. As the two get ready for bed, Rosemary points out that they have a “joke book” sitting near the toilet in the bathroom to which Guy replies, “Well their stories are pretty damn interesting.” He continues that he plans on going over to the Castevets’ house tomorrow to hear more “stories” from the elderly couple. Rosemary seems confused, stating that they had plans with friends of theirs but Guy asked, “That wasn’t definite, was it?” Comparing earlier that day, Guy seemed extremely annoyed by the rambling pair, Rosemary becomes confused why he would want to continue to befriend their neighbors. He offers for her to come with but she declines but mentions after seeing blank spaces on the Castevets’ walls, “Why did they take their pictures down?”
Next few days later while at home and trying to relax, Rosemary gets a knock from Minnie again who has invited her friend Laura Louise to see the young housewife (which her reaction to Rosemary seems more like examining an animal in abundant excitement within an observation tank.) She allows the two older women to come into the apartment and becomes immediately uncomfortable when they sit down, pulling out yarn and needles from their purses to knit. She walks over and sits across from then when Minnie gives her a “housewarming present” wrapped in tissue paper, “It’s from Roman and me. It’s really old, it’s over 300-years.” Rosemary opens it up to reveal a necklace with a small ball hung on it. She inspects it further, stating it’s “lovely” with a frightened realization that it is the same necklace that Terry wore. “The green inside of it is tannis root. It’s for good luck,” Minnie acknowledges to Rosemary. Initially, she does not want to keep it, “I’m sorry but I can’t accept-” but is pressured by the elder women. “You already have.”
A phone call comes later and Guy is informed that Donald Baumgart, the actor who got the part he originally wanted, has gone mysteriously blind. This news doesn’t seem to upset him. Rosemary later goes to visit her friend Hutch and becomes upset that Guy has been more focused on recognition than in their marriage. It’s a shift that can occur where priorities can change and people forget the commitment they have to another person. I don’t fault anyone who has these dips in their relationship as perfection is unattainable.
Guy comes home a few weeks later with their apartment adorned with bouquets of roses. He apologies to her, stating he has not been paying her a lot of attention and relents to, what appears to be Rosemary’s desire, of having a baby. The film has now set the scene for our two characters with mismatched aspirations in their marriage. It also shows that their ideals can shift when presented with the tools that can help fulfill their deepest desires even if it means it wasn’t meant with the best of intentions. Such as Guy, insecure that he continues to be low-key actor in commercials and bit parts in small plays as well as Rosemary, a shy woman from a large family who desperately wants children just like her other members. A marriage is about making choices that affect not always yourself, but your partner as well. The fate of Baumgart and Guy’s change in his desire of paternal fulfillment become the catalyst for the future.
With any night of “baby making” comes with the task of producing atmosphere. A steak dinner, music reverberating in the air off the record player, candles, a roaring fire going...and a knock on the door from Minnie Castevet. The interruption causes Rosemary to become upset, begging for Guy not to let her in when he answers but is revealed to see he has not but holds two cups of chocolate mousse (also known as “mouse” by Minnie.) They continue their night once more and dig into the treat. However, initially enjoying the whip cream on top, Rosemary stops, noticing a “chalky aftertaste,” letting it sit in her mouth. When she tells Guy that she doesn’t want to eat anymore, he becomes noticeably upset. Not wanting to fight, she asks him to turn over the record they had on earlier and agrees to finish it. With his back turned, Rosemary dumps the mousse onto a napkin on her lap and balls it up. Guy walks back over to her and she shows him the empty dish, “Here daddy, do I get a gold star?” This scene makes me smile because of this reason and was actually a conversation point when I went to see this again at Filmbar downtown. One woman in the audience called the film “sexist” solely because of Polanski’s predatory history (Google it) and not contextually based on Rosemary Woodhouse as a character. This act that she displays when she is pushed to do something shows that she will not always stand down within the traditional means of marriage, which is almost revolutionary during this time period in the mid-1960’s.
Cleaning up after dinner, she stops mid-throwing away the mousse from the dessert earlier and becomes dizzy. Guy turns to her in the living room when she accidentally knocks over one of the dining room chairs. He attributes her clumsiness to being “drunk” and picks her up, walking her over to the bedroom and lying her down on the bed to rest. In her sedative state, she begins to rock on the bed with the film showing her “drifting” on the sea and waking up on a boat with the Castevets, her husband and others. Guy takes off her clothes to reveal a bathing suit in her “dream” and in their home, stating he wants her to be more comfortable. On the boat, she sees Hutch leaving the dock and asks the ship’s captain, “Can’t he come with us?” To which the captain states “no Catholics allowed, I’m afraid.” The dream becomes darker as she realizes she’s naked once more and a sailor tells her to go down below to a dimly-lit chamber with a mattress in the center. Lying down, she sees the boat’s inhabitants are now naked and chanting, Guy and the Castevets included. He turns to Minnie, anxious that she can “see them” but she denies it. Standing above the worshippers is a dark-haired, monstrous looking man (monster) dressed in a suit who walks over to Rosemary. He transforms into a blackened, talloned creature, climbing on top of her after Roman, wearing satanic robes paints nefarious symbols across her porcelain skin. It projects itself as a bastardization of Guy for a brief moment to calm her but as it begins to rape her. A priest appears as the act is occurring and she asks him if she is “forgiven” which he says yes. Coming to a brief second, “This isn’t a dream, this is actually happening!” Before she can try to pull away, she smothered to sleep once more.
Rape is used in every day life and something people don’t wish to talk about it based on my observations from the general population. It’s a tool used in a way to get a reward, sometimes the solution to an objective, a physical prize or more emotional satisfaction. It’s also not uncommon according to the National Coalition Against Domestic Violence (NCADV) which states 10-14% of married women have experienced rape and it is 4 times as common than “stranger rape.” Rosemary wakes up in the morning, in her own bed, and finds scratch marks on her ribs. Her initial fright is confirmed by Guy who said he couldn’t help himself during baby night. “It was kinda fun in a necrophile sort of way.” Confused, she tells him that she dreamed someone was raping her, someone “inhuman” to which Guy “thanks” her in a joking manner. The experience seems to have shaken her up as she tries to calm herself later that day, taking a shower, opening the windows and seemingly dissociative trying to process what happened. In a later scene while Guy is rehearsing with crutches for his character’s part, she turns to him and asks, “Shouldn’t we talk about it? You’ve barely been looking at me.” He shrugs off her concerns, stating that he has been focused on his role and apologies to her.
Missing her period not too long after, this prospect of a baby on the way seems to take the focus off that whirlwind of a night. She visits Dr. Hill, almost like a schoolgirl, and gets her blood drawn, receiving a phone call to the confirmed news that she is pregnant but needs her to come in again for another blood sample. “I am pregnant, aren’t I?” The doctor assures her but that they need another sample for their records. Guy returns home and she tells him. While seeming excited for a brief moment, he says to her that they should tell the Castevets. She seems upset that he continues to involve the Castevets in their daily life but relents as he invites them over to celebrate. With everything that has led to her final wish of being pregnant, Rosemary appears to shift her opinion on them overall and after thinking out loud on baby names that night, she goes to her vanity table to put on the tannis root necklace to help her pregnancy.
It seems that all her fears about the elderly couple are thrown out the window as she bows to whatever they prescribe for her. A new doctor known as Sapirstein who demands she does not take any prenatal vitamins but “herbs” from Minnie’s garden and she is given a milky concoction that Minnie says has “snakes and puppy dog tails” in it. With the commotion going on, Rosemary decides to make a decision on her own a few months later and gets a short haircut. Upon returning home, she shows Guy who becomes upset but realizes she now looks thin and sickly. “I have a sharp pain.” Rosemary confesses to him and points to her stomach. She repeatedly tells various people that she is in agony but they dismiss her concerns. Hutch comes to visit her sometime later and is horrified at her white, rail-thin complexion which she initially thinks is due to her haircut.
Hutch appears to be the only one greatly concerned for Rosemary as the rest of the people in her life seem to dictate reality. It’s very similar to wives in abusive situations like this where they have to “fake it” to get by. She tells him with others around that there is nothing wrong but he asks to meet her privately sometime later. Barely being able to leave her home, Rosemary attempts to convene with him in a local park but after waiting for some time, she tries to phone him on a payphone nearby. She is told by his wife that he has died out of nowhere. Minnie appears, just like her husband, seemingly out of nowhere as Rosemary is overwhelmed in pain, helping her back to her apartment. It seems that with everything she can muster to help herself, she is under watchful eye by her husband and the elusive Castevets. Guy agrees to have a party at their home and invites over their various friends which seems more like a way to placate Rosemary into submission. A group of her female friends seem concerned over her gaunt figure and ask her questions on her health, making her break down crying to tell them that she truly is hurting and not feeling well. They seem to be supportive of her and criticize Roman for being too insensitive, demanding that she go see a doctor. Their words don’t seem to carry over as the guests leave and Guy expresses repeatedly to her that “everything is okay.”
In respect for the loss of the only person who seemed to care and listen to her, Rosemary attends Hutch’s funeral. After the ceremony, his wife hands her a book called All Them Witches stating he regained consciousness before his death and told her to give to Rosemary. “The name is an anagram,” she tells her but doesn’t know the meaning behind his words. Rosemary comes home and Minnie comes over to give her ritualistic “milky concoction.” She obeys and after she leaves, she opens up the book to begin researching what Hutch wanted to tell her. She flips through its contents and decides to pull out the game Scrabble from the book shelf, dumping the pieces on the floor. Carefully, she moves a few to form “All Them Witches.” After a few tries to find some peculiar phrase, she begins to put away the game and returns to her normal response of dismissing Hutch due to his delirious state before his death. Until she comes to an epiphany and opens up the book to see the name “Steven Marcato” underlined below a late 18th Century photo. She moves the Scrabble pieces to reflect the name and moves them around to form “Roman Castevet.”
Giving him the benefit of the doubt, Rosemary tells Guy that Roman is not who he says he is. He dismisses her claims but this time she does not submit. She begins reading up on various books of witchcraft, finding out that the necklace she was given has satanic value and that “covens” can do magical rituals on a victim if they take a person possession of theirs as well as demonic births. Rosemary calls Donald Baumgart and asks him if he had noticed anything missing after Guy had met up with him for drinks prior to his “blindness.” Donald says they did a “trade” and asks her if she thinks Guy may have stolen the tie. She quickly hangs up the phone and in a hurry, packs up some of her belongings and cash to run away. Rosemary finally realizes the plot befallen upon her in tragic irony and rushes to her previous doctor. After waiting to see him, she runs to a pay phone and calls him at home, begging for him to come see her to which he finally agrees. Arriving at his office, Rosemary releases all of her fears onto Dr. Hill, ranting about the fact that she believes that the Castevets worship the devil and that they want to “take her baby away.” He calmly assures her to wait in one of the rooms. Rosemary assures her baby “Andy or Jenny” that everything is going to be okay and falls asleep to dreams of a better life.
Unfortunately, she wakes up to Guy and Dr. Sapirstein, with the latter telling her that if she continues to make claims about witches that she’ll put into a mental hospital and she needs to “come quietly.” Guy seems ashamed of himself, turning to her and trying to relieve the situation by saying that she’s not going to be hurt, they just want to take her home to which she agrees. The music seems to take on a distorted tone of the film’s opening sequence lullaby as Rosemary is escorted back to Braumford. In a last ditch effort, she drops her belongings and as the two are preoccupied, she makes a run for the elevator and closes it on her way up to her home. A bass and broken horn speed up the tension of the film as she quickly runs home, trying to evade her husband and the doctor. Poor Rosemary barely gets away and locks the door, screaming at Guy that he promised “them” the baby. She calls a friend of hers and reaches the babysitter, pleading for her to call her back when she gets in. Unbeknown to her, various “worshippers” have entered the apartment behind her. She hears footsteps and finds all of the people, just like those in her dream, along with Guy and Dr. Sapirstein in her house with the doctor holding a large needle.
“We’re your friends, Rosemary.” They also try to reassure her and in a fit of anger, Rosemary smacks Guy across the face. She is then tackled onto the bed while the doctor sedates her and tells them all that she is now in labor. Screaming for help and demanding to be brought to a hospital, she hears the phone ring and Guy tells her Elise that she “isn’t there.” Before she becomes unconscious, she begs for the baby’s forgiveness that she wasn’t able to stop them. In a series of scenes, various people are appointed to watch her as she is bedridden. Rosemary is told that she had the baby but later lost it. She screams in denial but is later sedated again. Guy tells her that she had “pre-partum” depression and tells her that there are studios interested in his work so they’ll be doing better soon with the promise they will have more children. He jokes about how she believed he was a witch and she asks to see his shoulder that she noticed others in her earlier “dream” had a tattoo. He takes his shirt off and there are no tattoos. While in bed, she continues to hear the sounds of a baby crying and everyone in the house denies her curiosity with the request that she continue to take these “pills” to sedate her.
Not being able to take it anymore upon the film’s finale, she hides the pills she is given and one night sneaks out of her room (grabbing a knife) to the closet that was once concealed by the armoire. She pulls off pieces of wood that block another door that she realizes allows her to enter the home of the Castevets. Carefully, she steps into the main room after seeing a display of satanic paintings, in her nightgown, where the people from her “dream” are truly a reality and in the middle of an apparent party, with Dr. Sapirstein and Guy in tow. All of them turn to see her as she saunters in, in fighting stance with Laura Louise letting out a scream that she’s holding a knife. Various people try to gaslight her again, telling her to go back to bed and she tells even Roman to “shut up.” She looks over at a crib covered in black satan and the partygoers allow her to discover what they are celebrating. Initially delighted that she “wasn’t crying after all,” this reveal becomes her utmost horror, Rosemary’s eyes grow huge and covers her mouth in shock. She turns to everyone else and screams, “What have you done to it? What have you done to his eyes!?” In denial, she says that Guy’s eyes are “normal” and demands to know what has happened.
Roman stands up and tells her that Guy (who stands in the corner, not wanting to look at her) is not the father but Satan is who came up from hell to “begot a mortal woman.” Rosemary does not believe him and Roman confirms her baby’s real name is “Adrian Marcato” who is the Devil’s offspring incarnate. Everyone in the house delights in chanting it with, “Hail Satan! God is dead!” Guy tries to rectify the situation, “They promised me you wouldn’t be hurt,” he said. “And you haven’t been, really. I mean, suppose you’d had a baby and lost it; wouldn’t it be the same? And we’re getting so much in return, Ro.” She has nothing of it and spits in his face. This revelation has broken her as she sits in defeat. Looking over as she hears the “devil” baby crying, she sees that Laura Louise is rocking him too hard. Roman encourages Rosemary to rock him and at first, she is unwilling but with no other alternative, she agrees. Watching the baby in the crib, she finally submits to “damned” motherhood with the opening lullaby in its entirety playing. Roll credits.
60 years later, Rosemary’s Baby shows the fear of every mother’s worst nightmare on losing your child or the loss of love within a marriage. With both springing from taking a deal with the actual devil in this case with its metaphor going back to letting our insecurities overwhelm us upon connecting with others rather than facing our darkest fears.
Athena has been a Die-Hard Horror Film Buff sincer her Dad had he watch “Night of the Living Dead”. She loves the grotesque, Monsters and more that symbolize the creatures we often see inside ourselves.
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