Across the universe: Little devil

By Don Kaye
Special to MSN Movies

People often cite "The Exorcist" or "The Shining" as the greatest horror movie of all time, with films like "Night of the Living Dead," "The Evil Dead" and "Halloween" all usually making the shortlist as well. But one movie continually creeps onto the list as well, often nestled right near or even at the top: Roman Polanski's "Rosemary's Baby."

Bing: More about 'Rosemary's Baby' | More about Roman Polanski

Based on Ira Levin's best-selling novel about a young housewife whose actor husband makes a deal to have her bear Satan's child in exchange for success in his career, the 1968 film (Polanski's American debut) is a nearly perfect movie that operates on several levels. It is unsettling horror, pitch-black satire and subversive psychological manipulation all at the same time. The film's fairly simple, straightforward plot hides all kinds of uneasy notions about domesticity, parenthood, fame, community and religion. It's also a model of quiet, seething, understated suspense, with little in the way of outright shocks or graphic visuals.

We finally caught up with the film's Blu-ray debut via the Criterion Collection (issued last week), and this top-notch release features the best-looking, richest print of the film yet, while the remastered monaural soundtrack reveals little sonic details we've missed many times before. A new documentary includes interviews with Polanski, star Mia Farrow and producer Robert Evans (who greenlit the film as head of Paramount at the time), while secondary bonus features include a 20-minute interview with Levin and a 70-minute documentary on composter Krzysztof Komeda. As usual with Criterion, it's a definitive edition of a definitive film.

Watching "Rosemary's Baby" again (and we never tire of the film), we noted five elements that are integral components of its success:

1. We never see the baby: Little Adrian is a constant presence throughout the film, yet when he finally arrives, all we see is the outside of his black bassinet. Rosemary is horrified herself when she first sees him, asking/screaming, "What have you done to his eyes?" Told he has his father's eyes, we immediately flash back to a quick shot of the devil's eyes when he is impregnating Rosemary. Our imaginations do the rest. Actually seeing Adrian on film would ruin it.

2. John Cassavetes: A lot of writing about "Rosemary's Baby" centers on Farrow's performance, as well as that of Ruth Gordon, who won an Oscar as nosy neighbor Minnie Castevet. While some have found Cassavetes disagreeable as Rosemary's ambitious husband, Guy, we always see new things in Cassavetes' work: the way he's leaning intently toward Roman Castevet (Sidney Blackmer) when Rosemary re-enters the room (presumably after Castevet has just made his unholy offer), or the manner in which he flinches when Rosemary tries to put his hand on her belly to feel the baby kicking. Guy's surface recriminations about being too absorbed with his career hide something much more self-centered and amoral, yet Cassavetes never overplays it.

3. The Bramford: The fancy yet aged Manhattan apartment house that Rosemary and Guy move into represented a major step forward in the horror genre. No longer were films of supernatural terror confined to Gothic castles, abandoned cemeteries and vaguely European hamlets: The son of Satan is born right on the Upper West Side, in a doorman building no less. Yes, Polanski references the crumbling castles of old with the Bramford's dimly lit halls, but it's a sly joke: This is horror right in broad daylight, in the middle of the world's greatest modern city.

4. Doctor, doctor: How many women have intuitively felt something was wrong with their pregnancy, only to be blandly reassured by their doctor that everything was all right? The mysteries of pregnancy and the frustrations of placing your life -- and your baby's -- in the hands of someone you don't know that well are brought to the forefront as Rosemary is repeatedly told by Dr. Sapirstein (Ralph Bellamy) that the unbearable pain she feels will go away "in a day or two." (And what kind of health insurance does an intermittently working actor have anyway?)

5. What does it all mean? "Rosemary's Baby" comments on celebrity culture -- in the way Guy will do almost anything for success -- years before our society got so glutted on it. It also transmits the frightening idea that evil can hide in plain sight, even in the form of your nosy neighbors down the hall, for instance. And set against the turbulent backdrop of the late '60s, you can't help but wonder if that was the perfect time for the devil to send his only begotten son. When Rosemary's maternal instincts win out over her terror at the end of the film, is this an acceptance of the fact that a younger generation cannot fight against the vast, ancient institutions that rule the world? We look forward to watching this masterpiece again and pondering that question some more.