Rosemary's Baby (Film Review)

1968 Paramount Pictures
Written and Directed by: Roman Polanski
Starring: Mia Farrow
MPAA Rating: R; Running Time: 136 Minutes
The Niscperiment Score: 10/10

In a rather awful twist of irony, Roman Polanski, a man accused of unspeakable crimes against women, is the writer and director of perhaps the greatest film about a woman being gaslit ever made. Rosemary's Baby stars Mia Farrow as the mother of the titular child. Rosemary has moved to a massive, ancient New York City apartment with her actor husband, Guy. They've got some kooky old neighbors, who seem to have boundary issues. One day, an actor Guy is understudying for goes mysteriously blind, and Guy is on his way up in the acting world. Meanwhile, Rosemary is suddenly pregnant, after quite a strange, and inebriated night. As the pregnancy faces complications, Rosemary begins to have doubts about the intentions of those around her. Without spoiling much, the occult is involved.
Polanski, for whatever his depravities, is an ace director. He uses the frame masterfully, goes from seemingly safe silliness to menace at the flip of a page, and slowly builds suspense as his film patiently raises its stakes, tension, and menace. As Rosemary, Mia Farrow is at first a bit off-putting, waifish, high-voiced, and naive, but as the film goes on, she lets Rosemary's inner strength shine through, as she begins to resist whatever it is that is going on around her. Most relevant to the forty-year later now, is the way the men around Rosemary continuously doubt and rebuff her concerns, even as it seems they are the ones she should be most concerned about. The central metaphor of the film, which this review will not reveal, really brings these ideas home in a stark, and startling fashion. If the allegations are true, it's too damned bad Polanski couldn't learn anything from his own film--with that being the case, it's rarely this easy to separate the art from the artist.