Rosemary’s Baby (1968 film)

I fear that cultural osmosis has made this film out to be something that it very much isn’t. “Rosemary’s Baby” isn’t some theatre of the macabre that makes for thoroughly miserable viewing; rather, it comes across like a relic of old Hollywood that comes, slowly but surely, to be corrupted into something wholly sinister, and every element of “Rosemary’s Baby”, from the acting to the writing to the cinematography, works to convey this slow burn about as efficiently as could ever be asked. The 1960s were not short on excellent horror, but I struggle to list what might top this.

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