Film: “Rosemary’s Baby” directed by Roman Polanski

What a year 1968 was! In the space of nine months, Americans witnessed the Tet Offensive, Prague Spring, the assassinations of MLK and RFK, the riots at the Democratic Convention, and the election of Richard Nixon to the presidency.

Culturally, 1968 was a milestone year too—in music (“Hey Jude”), television (“Julia,” the first show starring a Black actress, Diahnn Carroll), and film. As the 14-year-old son of devout Roman Catholic parents, I was not allowed to see one film in particular: “Rosemary’s Baby.” Today, courtesy of an 8-hour flight home from Zurich, I got my chance.

To others like me who may have somehow missed RB, a moderately brief plot summary: Rosemary Woodhouse (Mia Farrow) and her husband Guy, an actor who mostly acts in TV commercials (John Cassavetes) and in plays nobody has ever seen, move into a quirky UWS apartment house (which is supposed to be the Dakota). They want to have a baby, desperately. Unfortunately, their alone time is soon invaded by a nosy neighbor. Minnie Castevet (Ruth Gordon) and her husband Roman (Sidney Blackmer), who begin ingratiating themselves into every aspect of the Woodhouses’ private lives.

Not long after a nightmare where a strange orgy takes place, Rosemary learns that she’s pregnant—at which point Mrs. K starts bringing over odd-tasting potions and pills. The Castevets (gotta love that name, John!) soon have Rosemary abandoning her own obstetrician in favor of theirs: Dr. Saperstein (Ralph Bellamy!) Funny thing though: instead of gaining weight, Rosemary gets thinner. What the F is going on here?

Meanwhile, husband Guy, who’s gotten quite chummy with the Castevets, starts landing parts in plays he wouldn’t normally have landed. Pregnant Rosemary on the other hand is getting sicker and sicker. She cuts her hair short a la Vidal Sassoon (this was Mia’s Frank Sinatra period) and begins reading about witches and covens. Rosemary puts two and two together. Obviously, neither a painful pregnancy nor creepy neighbors were on her Bingo card.

I’ve read that Polanski originally wanted Sharon Tate as the lead (oh the irony) but decided instead on Farrow, fresh off her success  in “Peyton Place.” In retrospect, a great choice. But the perfect casting doesn’t stop there.  Besides the inimitable Ruth Gordon, there’s Maurice Evans (he played Samantha’s father in “Bewitched!) as their former landlord and an impossibly young, handsome Charles Grodin as Dr. Hill, Rosemary’s first choice of obstetrician.

To those of us old enough to remember, “RB” gets the details of the late 1960’s just right—from Rosemary’s outfits to the “swinging parties” of the UWS to the cheap rents. Imagine an actor being able to afford the Dakota—especially if you weren’t being paid like Judy Garland or Lauren Bacall.

IMHO, Rosemary’s Baby” is emblematic of a year when the earth basically shifted. It begat similar great horror movies within a decade—from Friedkin’s “Exorcist,” to “The Omen” series, to DePalma’s “Carrie” (1976) and in 1980, Kubrick’s “The Shining.”

Just an innocent question: Am I only the person on earth who hasn’t seen the movie or read Ira Levin’s best seller? The devil, you say.