The Tenant – A Roman Polanski Film. Fifth Review in The Haunted Apartment Series

Warning: Spoilers abound in this article.

TheTenant5As promised, I have for your reading pleasure  a review  and analysis  of the third film in Roman Polanski’s Apartment  Trilogy. And that film is The Tenant!  Polanski  himself stars as “the tenant”, a mild-mannered man who is having all kinds of trouble adjusting to his environment in a new apartment. Throughout the film, viewers watch his descent  into madness. A person going mad in a Polanski  apartment  film ?  No way! (Yeah way). Polanski  plays Trelkovsky , a Polish immigrant/French citizen living in a Paris apartment  complex. His landlord  and lady are openly hostile to him. His neighbors  antagonize  him.  He is convinced that all of them are trying to drive him to suicide.

The Tenant is an offbeat film. Brilliant, but bizarre. As a testament to this brilliance, there are all kinds of themes at work in this film. Isolation, prejudice, paranoia are but a few. Before  I  go any further, I  would like to rehash some of the themes  that I  had outlined in my very first apartment  article Beyond the House: An Examination of Hauntings Within Alternate Structures Part 2 – Apartment Buildings. These themes, I had argued, pertain in general  to stories concerning apartments where strange and terrifying activities occur. A brief recap of these themes is appropriate  at this time, along with a  quick mention as to how they play out in the films and novels that I have reviewed  in this apartment  series so far.

In that intro article that kicked off this series, neighbors  are often agents of a disembodied  danger  that exists within the apartment  complex. This is certainly  true in the Konvitz’s novels (The Sentinel and The Guardian).  The neighbors  might even be ghosts or demons. Or they might simply be members of some strange  cult, as in the film Rosemary’s Baby,  Polanski’s second film in The Apartment Trilogy. Psychological  horror often plays out in a  thriller  film or novel that takes place in an apartment. Characters struggle with their own identity, as Carol does in the film Repulsion, the first film in The Apartment  Trilogy.

What of The Tenant? Well, his neighbors certainly act as agents of a disembodied  danger. But as with  the other  two films in this apartment  trilogy, the main character  is the victim of a whole lot of psychological  horror. Trelkovsky struggles with his identity , but this struggle is so severe, and it touches on another theme I had outlined in the initial  article but have  not yet mentioned  here. I had stated that  a characters ,  when living  in  such  close  proximity  to  anonymous  and strange  neighbors ,  experience a  sense  of  ambiguity about who they really are, They lose their  sense  of  self  among  the  nameless. This is what happens  to Trelkovsky . By the film’s  end, he finds himself, not only in a different body but in a very horrifying position. I told you the film is weird! But, is this metamorphosis literal or symbolic? Does he really change or is he just hallucinating?  He had been hallucinating though half of the film, so why would he stop by the film’s end?  I think I might be able to shine some light on this mystery and get down to the nitty-gritty details that might just explain in the heck is going on here.  Before I do so, it is necessary to hike through the weeds of the plot. So, a hiking we shall go!


Plot Summary

Trelkovsky leases an apartment in Paris. From the beginning, the landlord and landlady TheTenantAlvinMelvinAndShelleyWinters are suspicious of him, even though he presents himself pleasantly. This duo, played ever so effectively by Melvyn Douglas and Shelley Winters, is never short on scowls when looking his way. Part of their scorn may have to do with his accent. They don’t seem to like the fact that his is Polish, even though he is a French citizen. Reluctantly, they give him the apartment.

On day one, he is introduced to the idiosyncrasies of his place. For one thing, the former occupant of his apartment, an Egyptologist named Simone Choule, had thrown herself out the window. The landlady, with inappropriate glee, shows him where it happened. Down below outside his window there is a pane of broken glass. Simone had shattered the glass in her fall. Many of her personal items are still in the drawers and closets. He is told that the apartments are not equipped with bathrooms. To do his business, he has to go around to the building on the other side of the apartment. From his window, he can see across the courtyard and into the bathroom. There are no shades on the bathroom window and he occasionally catches someone sitting down in there.

Trelkovsky becomes obsessed with learning about Simone. She is not yet dead. He visits her in the hospital, where she had just come out of a coma. She is bandaged from head to toe and looks like mummy, although her eyes and mouth are uncovered. She isn’t coherent. Also at her bedside is Stella, a friend of Simone’s. She is distraught over her condition. At one point, Simone widens her eyes, looks at the two of them and releases a horrifying scream. Trelkovsky and Stella will become lovers.

Back at the apartment, tenants complain that Trelkovsky makes too much noise. The landlord continues to give him a hard time. Even the slightest noise prompts a complaining pounding from the floor above him. Even when his apartment is robbed, the landlord is unsympathetic. He tells Trelkovsky not to call the police, for it will ruin the reputation of the such a fine apartment complex. He visits the police later in the movie for a different reason, and they are prejudiced against him for being of Polish descent. The fact that he is a French citizen doesn’t impress them. At one point, a lady tenant pressures him to sign a petition to have a lady and her crippled daughter thrown out of the place. He refuses, and then there is a petition put forth to have him thrown out.

Throughout all of this, Trelkovsky is becoming linked to Simone in uncanny ways. The diner down the street always serves him the drink and cigarettes that Simone had preferred when she was a customer, despite his protests. A man shows up at his door looking for Simone. He had been in love with her and is unaware of the tragic events. By this time, Simone had died.  Trelkovsky is forced to stay up all night and console the man. When they say goodbye early in the morning, the man thanks him and plants a big wet kiss on Trelkovsky’s lips.  One morning, Trelkovsky wakes up and discovers that his face has been painted in Simone’s makeup.

Ahh, now we are getting to the eerie stuff. From his window, he sees neighbors in the bathroom window standing motionlessly for hours. One night he makes a trip to the bathroom and finds detailed Egyptian hieroglyphs painted on the wall. When he looks out the bathroom window, he sees himself in his apartment staring back at him through binoculars. Another night, he sees Simone through the window, wrapped in the bandages. Slowly she begins to unravel them.

Needless to say, Trelkovsky is starting to freak out over all this. He is convinced that his neighbors and landlord are trying to turn him into Simone and thereby force him to commit suicide. On his own accord, he buys a woman’s wig and starts to wear Simone’s dresses, along with her makeup. When he is out on the streets, he imagines that his landlord is following him.

TheTenantOperaAudienceFinally he gives in. Dressed in woman’s attire, he approaches the window. Down in the courtyard, he sees all his neighbors, and Stella too, cheering him on. They are dressed as if they were at an opera. They are seated in balconies theater-style. In reality, the neighbors are standing in the courtyard begging him NOT to jump. He does so anyway and falls through the glass. He wakes up in the hospital, bandaged from head to toe, and finds Stella and himself at his bedside. He screams. It is the same scene that played out earlier in the film, only this time it’s from the perspective of the bandaged mummy. He has “become Simone” and he is “literally” beside himself.


Making Sense Of Trelkovsky’s MetamorphosisUnraveling the Bandaged Figure

Has Trelkovsky really transformed into Simone? Is there some kind of time loop at work here, where the doomed tenant is destined to split from himself in the presence of his former self, while “the former self” must then unknowingly retread through all the events that happen in the film? Or his he simply hallucinating when he sees himself beside his bed?

I think the main thing to note is that Trelkovsky is doomed to follow “the same path” as Simone on account of the sense of isolation he experiences, which ultimately leads to paranoia, which then leads to suicide. Simone is, perhaps, “the vehicle” that takes him to where he is destined to go.  Or perhaps the vehicle is a disembodied presence that ensnares both of them at different times. Both are on the same plight, so in a sense they share the same soul.

Throughout the film, the more isolated Trelkovsky feels, the more he obsesses with Simone. When his landlord/landlady behave rudely suspicious toward him at the beginning of the film, he starts to wonder about Simone. Poor Trelkovsky, he never seems to be in control in any situation. Even his friends take advantage of him. They mock him, and he is not assertive enough to stand up for himself.  He is the outsider. He is mistreated on account of his ethnicity.

Thus he is isolated from a normal life of respect and dignity. Therefore he is pulled toward the final extreme – suicide. Along the way, he cannot help but identify with Simone more and more, even if he comes to despise this identification. It can’t be helped. He is doomed to the same plight, the same path. Thus, he “becomes her.”

At one point in the film, Trelkovsky finds a tooth hidden in the wall of the apartment. It was Simone’s tooth; it was wrapped in cotton and stuffed into a hole. Later, Trelkovsky wakes up in the middle of the night to discover that his tooth has been ripped out of his head. He is bleeding.

Trelkovsky notes that “a tooth is part of ourselves. It is “a bit of personality”. He goes on to question the notion of “the self.” He says, “At what precise moment does an individual stop being who he is?” Does it happen if he loses an arm or a leg? How about a head. He says, “What right does my head have to call itself me?”  Is he speaking of the physical head or is he alluding to the mind?  Deep stuff! All of this points to the blurring of the boundaries between one’s self and the circumstances he might find himself in. If he was in control of this thing that is called “the self”, he should be able to prevent the misfortunes that follow him, shouldn’t he? But the cruelty of the outside world forces him to forsake the self, to kill the self, to become one with a soul that is on a path toward self-destruction.


Kafkaesque

Critics/Analysts describe The Tenant as “Kafkaesque.” This term is used when comparing certain works to the writings of the late Franz Kafka. Both Kafka and Polanski were/are Jews of eastern European descent. Kafka is known to blend realism with fantasy, realism with “the absurd.” The themes of “alienation, existential anxiety and guilt” penetrate his works. Kafka died long before the reign of the Nazi-regime and the inhumanity that followed in its wake. However, Polanski, as a young boy, experienced first hand the cruelty that claimed the lives of millions of Jews. The plight of European Jews before and after World War 2 serves as an unfortunate, real life example of themes such as isolation and alienation, themes that Polanski explores in his works.

Whereas Polanski did not write the initial story that is “The Tenant” (The film is based on the book by Roland Topor , he most certainly can relate to its subject matter. More on the life of Polanski later.

The Wikipedia article about The Tenant  devotes a section on Kafka’s influences, but I’m surprised there is no mention of Kafka’s book The Metamorphosis. There’s a reason I inserted the word “Metamorphosis” in the heading of the preceding section.  In this book, an apartment-bound young man transforms into a giant cockroach-like creature. He lives with his parents and sister and is forced to support them with a job he despises. His boss is known to show up at the apartment and drag him out of bed and force him to go to work. But one day, when the young man is cooped up in his bedroom, his door closed, he cannot respond to the “rapping at his chamber door” (Thank you Poe!) For he has become a giant bug! As a bug, he cannot speak to them, he cannot even open the door, for he has no arms, he only has the legs of a hideous insect.

The debasement ushered in by his parents and boss has left him alienated, destroyed his sense of self so much that “the self” is now a hideous bug. It’s an absurd story, but that is Kafka. He goes to the extreme to make a point. Likewise, we have the fate of Trelkovsky, transformed literally or figuratively into a suicidal woman, depending on one’s interpretation. I always favor the figurative interpretation, but that’s just me. In either case, external factors alienate the protagonist, causing him to transform into something undesirable.


Similar to The Shining?

The same Wikipedia article referenced in the preceding sections compares The Tenant to the Stanley Kubrick film The Shining.  

Some quotes from the article:

The Tenant has been referred to as a precursor to Kubrick’s The Shining (1980),[12] as another film where the lines between reality, madness, and the supernatural become increasingly blurry (the question usually asked with The Shining is “Ghosts or cabin fever?”) as the protagonist finds himself doomed to cyclically repeat another person’s nightmarish fall. Just like in The Shining, the audience is slowly brought to accept the supernatural by what at first seems a slow descent into madness, or vice versa: “The audience’s predilection to accept a proto-supernatural explanation […] becomes so pronounced that at Trelkovsky’s break with sanity the viewer is encouraged to take a straightforward hallucination for a supernatural act.”[19]

Choule meeting Trelkovsky shortly before dying in the hospital, a loop not unlike The Shining’s explanation. that Jack Torrance “has always been the Overlook’s caretaker”

The notion that Jack Torrance “has always been the Overlook’s caretaker” is backed up by the photo and the film’s end. It is an old picture of a group of the hotel’s guests, perhaps taken many decades before the events of the film. Jack is in the center of the photograph. For me, I interpret his inclusion into the picture as follows: upon death, the Hotel, a sinister and sentient entity, has swallowed Jack into very make-up, which includes its history. Forever is he trapped. “Forever”  implies eternity, which does not obey the dictates that man assigns to time, mainly the concepts of beginning and end, before and after. In the realm of eternity, there just “is.”  “Is” = “Always”.

Has Trelkovsky “always been Simone Choule”?  The Wikipedia article hints at this, referring to Egyptian myth. Remember, Simone was an Egyptologist.

Ancient Egyptian religious belief, it is important to note, was based on the notion that all things are the same all throughout history

This is an intriguing idea. Still I prefer the notion that Trelkovsky utilizes the vehicle that is Simone Choule in order to arrive at his unfortunate end.  Maybe what I’m saying is the same as what the ancient Egyptians were saying? As they say “All things are the same”

It should be noted that photo of Jack in the picture that features historical hotel people is not something that occurs in Stephen King’s book. For more differences between the book and movie, read my article. However I’m glad I can “summons” the “spirit” of the story of The Shining to help me out with this article. There are similarities between the two stories, mainly, as the article mentions “the protagonist finds himself doomed to cyclically repeat another person’s nightmarish fall.”

It is said that The Shining is the ultimate haunted house novel. Since authoritative sources compare it to The Tenant, I feel better about reviewing and analyzing Polanski’s film within the category of Haunted Houses of Film and Literature. Whether or not the visions, “the ghosts” of the apartment (residents who stand still in the bathroom and stare blankly Trelkovsky for hours), originate from the apartment complex itself or from Trelkovsky’s disturbed mind, it doesn’t matter. These things are “haunting” him. Therefore, the complex is haunted.


Roman Polanski – His Intriguing, Tragic and Controversial Life

Since this article will wind down The Apartment Trilogy, I feel it proper to mention a few TheTenantPolanski things about the life of Roman Polanski. As the header states, his life is intriguing, tragic and controversial. According to The Guardian, he was confined to a Jewish ghetto in Krakow in 1943. He was ten-years-old at the time. There in the ghetto, he witnessed Jews being executed on the streets. His parents were sent to concentration camps. He was spared this fate by being sent to live with a family his parents knew. His upbringing was indeed sad.

After he became a successful filmmaker and moved to America, tragedy would find him again. His wife, actress Sharon Tate, was murdered by the Manson Family (See the Wikipedia article on Roman Polanski.) A few years later, he was charged with sexual assaulting a thirteen-year-old girl.  Whether or not the act was consensual is up for debate. In the end, Polanski was going to be sent to prison, so he fled the United States, where he is still a wanted criminal. Since then, other women have come forward with claims against Polanski, stating that he had sexually abused them.

Just like the characters in his movies, Polanski has experienced much alienation and sorrow. I’m not excusing his sexual misdeeds. But it might be said, perhaps, that his propensity toward sexual deviance is reflected in his films as well. I am not here to praise him, but I do find value in his films. They are very artful, reflecting his good and bad side.


“Wrapping” it all Up

TheTenant6

Most critics find The Tenant to be an excellent film. It has earned a collective 90% approval rating on RottenTomatoes.com. However, not all critics favor this film. Roger Ebert  gave it only one star. He calls the film “an embarrassment.”  He goes into a lot of detail explaining the plot, and his description actually makes the film sound interesting. But he fails to explain why he thought the film was “an embarrassment” or “a disappointment”.  I share the consensus of the 90%, not so that I can be in the majority, but because this is an artful and thoughtful film. A little weird at times, but I like “weird.”

As previously mentioned, this article will “wrap up” Polanski’s “Apartment Trilogy”. But my apartment series is not finished yet. (Yes, these stories are mine, mine mine! Just kidding). I still have one and a half more reviews to go. You may ask, “what is a ‘half review’?”.  Simply stated, I will quickly revisit a movie that I have already written about. Since I already have it in a review format, I will not be adding too much new material. And I will not be watching it again. Once is enough. Suffice it to say, it’s an average film – not too great. But wait till you read the final review about a great book that I’m betting not too many people know about. OOOO-eeeeeee is it a scary one! For those who are more interested in ghosts and traditional haunted houses, the next “one and a half reviews” will be right up your alley. Some of you just might not be into the psychological horror that haunts the apartments in Polanski’s films. Some of you might aver that those kinds of movies are not truly haunted house stories. I disagree, but it’s okay if you feel this away. I still love you!  But..get ready for what will come. Oh, and…boo!

Repulsion – A Roman Polanski Film. Fourth Review in The Haunted Apartment Series

WARNING: If you have a “Repulsion” about spoilers, then avoid this article!

Repulsion4

 

Welcome back as I continue with my summer theme of horror films/literature that take place within apartment buildings. In case you have forgotten, it all started with this article – Beyond the House: An Examination of Hauntings Within Alternate Structures. Part 2 – Apartment Buildings. I wrote that piece at the beginning of the season. And though summer is on its last legs, I carry on within the fictional confines of sweltering,  terror-ridden, and psychosis- inducing living spaces that challenge its occupants with a petrifying dose of the unreal. Or maybe, what they encounter is far too real – a dark revelation into the disturbances of their minds. This is certainly true for Carol Ledoux, the disturbed protagonist in the film that is the subject of this article. But let me back up for a second. Summer is a season that beckons us to the great outdoors. And here I am, writing about a suffocating indoor environment. Perhaps you find the subject untimely and therefore offensive, revolting, disgusting, loathsome and even….repulsive. If so, you share the sentiments of Carol, who in trapped in the inner-recesses of her mind, uncomfortable with the mysteries that lurk within the claustrophobic rooms of her psyche. And yet, the film Repulsion, directed and co-written by Roman Polanski, presents viewers with Carol’s paradox – she feels safe inside her mind, safe inside her apartment with its barricaded doors. Well, she is never at ease, but the apartment will at least protect her from the threats that lurk on the street, unless….these threats find their way inside her, and awaken her from a dreamlike trance for which she is not prepared to abandon. So readers, a haunted apartment can provide some solace, even in the good ol’ sunny summertime. Trust me as I take you on a tour of Carol’s apartment, a tour of her mad, mad mind, a mind that will produce horrifying hallucinations and drive her to kill people.

So, what the hell is wrong with Carol? In short, she fears her own sexuality. She mistrusts her own desires and therefore she avoids sexual encounters and repels the advances of men. In short, she finds the subject of sex “repulsive”. In a New York Times article, reviewer David Kehr points out how Carol envies the nuns she watches from her apartment window, for they are free from “the burden of sexuality.” It should noted, that Carol does not seem to be asexual, nor does she seem to be repressing any desires directed toward the same sex. (She dons lipstick to make herself attractive for a fantasy/nightmare sexual partner/rapist. More on this later) Rather, she fears “sexuality” in and of itself and all of its mystery. Kim Morgan, writing for The Huffington Post, sums it up this way:

Carol is the personification of sexual mystery — she is what lurks beneath the orgasms of pleasure and pain

Churned inside a kind of fire that enflames the rawest elements of sexuality, its no wonder she is a psychotic mess.

Most of the drama and inner-conflict play out in that apartment she resides in (in truth it’s her sister’s apartment). It is the very first film in what has become known as Polanski’s Apartment Trilogy. However, the first film of the trilogy that I reviewed is Rosemary’s Baby (Click on the link to read that review). In that review, I state what all three films have in common. And that is this:

  1. They detail the unfolding psychosis of a central character.
  2. They blur the protagonist’s perception of reality
  3. They feature an oppressive apartment setting that further augments the madness of the main character

Let’s hone in on the third point. The apartment certainly stands for everything that point expresses, and much more. The apartment symbolizes her own “fragile, egg-shell mind” (Thanks Jim Morrison for coining that term!). As everyone knows, eggs easily crack. And cracks do appear on the walls of the apartment, cracking before her stunned eyes. Carol is cracking. And the stuff of her desires and fears are seeping in.

Carol is from Belgium, but she is living in her sister Helen’s apartment in London. She is very attractive, but painfully shy and soft-spoken. Helen is sexually active and Carol is uncomfortable with this. She is “repulsed” by the loud sexual activity she is forced to listen to while she unsuccessfully tries to sleep at night. She hates it that Helen’s gentleman friend leaves his bathroom accessories behind, placed so close to her personal items.

Shot skillfully in black and white, the camera often follows Carol as she proceeds to and from work. Her first walk is accompanied by a mellow jazz tune. As the film progresses, the background music that accompanies these walks becomes frenetic. Sometimes it is the wild music of experimental jazz. Sometimes it’s the peculiar sounds made from a three-man marching band that panhandles on the streets. Often when she is alone, like when the camera stays with her on the elevator ride up to her sister’s apartment, the music is soft and simple – a few notes on the piano or flute. It’s childlike, but in an eerie way. I am reminded of the openings of many Syd Barrett composed Pink Floyd songs before the psychedelic music kicks in. This is the music of a person retreating to their shell; regressing into a protective womb. Out on the streets, men make passes at her. A suitor follows her, strikes up conversations with her. The music is untamed as the men crack away at her shell.

Helen is planning on leaving her sister alone for two weeks. She and her boyfriend are traveling to Italy. Carol begs her not to go, but to no avail. So she is left alone to confront her awakening. See, throughout the film, Carol is in a near-catatonic state. It as if she has been sleeping and is trying her damnest not to wake up. She fears the pain of sexual awakening. And she must face this awakening, alone, without her sister. As a symbol for Repulsion3her vulnerability, there is the dead, skinned rabbit. Helen meant to cook this for her boyfriend before they departed for their vacation. She skinned the rabbit and was all set to boil it, but the boyfriend insisted on taking her out to dinner instead. When Helen leaves for Italy, the rabbit sits there on the counter, drawing flies. It is a sickening sight. The rabbit is like Carol, who has been stripped of her protective layers. Helen has abandoned both. The skinned rabbit is an unsightly thing. And the things Carol will succumb to – these things are unsightly as well. Enter the horror!

A brute of a man begins to rape Carol in her bedroom at night. She first spots him in the reflection of the mirror. She gasps, turns around, and sees no one in the room. Silly girl, he exists only in the reflection. He is she; her desires, her fears. Later, he forces his way into her bed. Forces himself on her. All the while, viewers of the film hear the sound of a clock ticking. Tick..tick..tick… then RING of the phone or DING DING DING of the train outside the window. These “rings and dings” cry out in the morning, when the scene is over. She always wakes up alone.

Carol misses work for several days. She seems determined not to leave the apartment. Meanwhile, cracks sprout in the walls. The hallway walls turn into a viscous substance from which hands reach out to touch her as she desperately tries to make her way Repulsion2through the corridor. Things are breaking in. Her shell is cracking. She is cracking. Carol has two male visitors while she is alone. One is the suitor, who wants to know why she keeps avoiding him. The other is the sleazy landlord who comes looking for the rent money. But as it turns out, he wants her instead. Carol takes care of both of them. She kills them! She is repulsed so much by those that force her to confront her sexuality that she has to murder them. But before going to bed at night, she dons make-up and makes her self attractive for the phantom that haunts her bed. The poor, confused girl. So torn, so…cracked. But at least she is able to hum sweetly after kills each man. Temporary moments of peace when her dissonance is temporarily resolved.

Though brutal and unsettling, this film smack of genius. According to Wikipedia, reviewer Jim Emerson places this film in a list of “102 films to see before…”(before you die? Before something.) From the patient camera and spot-on audio to the brilliant performances, this simple and relatively low budget film succeeds in every way that a film can succeed.

One more film will complete Polanski’s apartment trilogy. The final film, both in order of release and here at this blog, is The Tenant. Polanski himself stars in the film. He is the disturbed tenant. Hopefully I will have this review completed within a week or so. Until then, I bid you farewell. To my apartment dwelling friends, enjoy your living space. But please don’t confuse it was the dark recesses of your mind. This will only haunt the place, and the consequences can be deadly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The 50th Anniversary of the Release of Rosemary’s Baby – First Review of The Haunted Apartment Series

Guess what day it is? It’s Adrian birthday. Let’s sing to him!

Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday Dear Adrian! Happy Birthday to you!

Adrian turns fifty-years-old today. Maybe you’re thinking,” Who the heck is Adrian?” Well I’ll tell you. He is the son of Satan! But he’s probably best known as Rosemary’s Baby, Adrian came into this world on June 12, 1968 through the vessel known as the movie theater. Whatever became of him? I don’t care, so I will not utter – Look What’s Happened to Rosemary’s Baby. Supposedly it is a very bad film. I haven’t seen it but I heed the critics’ warning to avoid this yarn. The original film, however, is a masterpiece. Two and a half decades since its inception and it is still one of the best horror films ever made.

(Mr. Buttinski: Psst! Technically, the events in the film take place a few years BEFORE 1968, so Adrian’s actual age would be…

Me: OH SHUT UP! )

  I have chosen this 50th birthday of Rosemary’s Baby to launch the first review of my Haunted Apartment series. (Read the opening article here.) What a great film to begin this series, if I do say so myself! I go straight, smack dab into the center of Director Roman Polanski’s Apartment Trilogy. Let me explain. Polanski  directed and helped write the screenplays for three horror films that take place within apartment complexes.  rosemarys-baby-the-dakotaRosemary’s Baby is based on the book by the same name, written by Ira Levin. Imposemagazine.com calls Rosemary’s  Baby the centerpiece of the trilogy. This makes sense, as it is the second of the three films by order of release. Also, it’s the most known, most popular, and in my humble opinion, the best. The other two, Repulsion and The Tenant, released, respectively, in 1965 and 1976, are very brilliant films as well, but it’s hard to top that “cute” little baby, even though we are only permitted to view his eyes. Before I delve into the intricacies of Rosemary’s Baby, a little more needs to be said about the trilogy itself. A paragraph ought to cover it!

The Apartment Trilogy consists of three separate films with different plots and characters. The second and third films are the not the sequels of the first. Instead, they are united by these commonalities:

  1. They detail the unfolding psychosis of a central character.
  2. They blur the protagonist’s perception of reality
  3. They feature an oppressive apartment setting that further augments the madness of the main character.

In regards to the apartment setting, Amanda Meyncke, in an article for MTV.com, writes, “Polanski masterfully  plays upon our fears of small confined  spaces, as well as our intrinsic fear of the unknown.” Truth be told, I’m not sure if Polanski set out to create an Apartment Trilogy. It seems if that term, along with all the analysis that followed, appeared long after the release of these films. Perhaps Polanski simply thrived in a setting that worked well for him and just let the creative juices flow, while the categorization came after the fact. Here at this blog, I will also explore the other two films as part of the Haunted Apartment series. But for right now, on to Rosemary’s Baby!

Here is a synopsis…and more. Urbanite couple Rosemary and Guy Woodhouse move into the Bramford apartment building, despite the misgivings of their friend Hutch, who warns them about the shady history of the building, which includes tenants that had engaged in witchcraft and cannibalism. Oh my! They barely settle in when the eccentric old couple in the apartment next door befriends them. The nosy but seemingly well-meaning couple, Minnie and Roman Castevet, learns a couple of things about the Woodhouses: 1) Guy is a struggling actor. 2) They would like to have a baby soon.

Suddenly, the plans and dreams of the Woodhouses fall into place. Guy gets a great acting gig (at the expense of another actor who goes blind and can’t perform the role) and Rosemary is pregnant. The Castevets practically micro-manage the pregnancy. In a pushy way, they recommend an obstetrician. Rosemary agrees to use him. They put her on a strange diet of herbs and milky concoctions

Rosemary is worried. Her pregnancy does not seem normal. She is in constant pain. Her skin turns sickly pale. She craves raw meat! But no one, not her neighbors, not her husband, not even the doctor will sympathize with her. They all seem to think things are “normal.” Hutch turns Rosemary on to the idea that the Castevets’ are modern day witches and that they plan to sacrifice the newborn baby. Suddenly, she believes that everyone is part of the plot; the doctor, her husband, and the neighbors – which by this time in the film there are many; more goofy, old ladies. Scared for the safety of her baby, she tries to flee everybody, including her husband. She calls everyone witches, but they catch her, sedate her. Before sedation, she goes into labor. She awakens later to sad news. The baby didn’t survive. Various neighbors look after Rosemary as she lies in bed. Meanwhile Guy blames Rosemary’s recent “erratic behavior” on pre partum hysteria. All the stuff about witches, all those conspiracies, these were all delusions brought on by hysteria. The end!

Or..is it?

Are you ready for THE SPOILER! Oh come on, you already know what’s coming!

The baby isn’t dead. Through a secret passage in a closet that connects the Woodhouse apartment to the Castevet apartment, Rosemary enters her neighbor’s domain to find her baby in a carriage surrounded by black cloth and tapestry. Demonic paintings hang on the walls. All the neighbors are there. Quirky, goofy old ladies are shouting Hail Satan! You gotta love that! The Castevet’s explain to Rosemary that she has brought the son of Satan into the world. Guy tells his wife that he helped arrange all this in exchange for a successful acting career (these Satanists put a curse on the one actor who went blind). Their son is Adrian, the son of Satan. Viewers are only permitted to see its’ eyes, scary demonic looking eyes.

What is most memorable about this film? Is  it the performances? Could be. Mia Farrow brilliantly portrays the tortured Rosemary with real emotions. It’s as if she herself is succumbing to psychological torment. Ruth Gordon as Minnie Castevet steals the scene many times. She won an Oscar for this role. She’s very entertaining, as is Sidney Blackmer as Roman Castevet. He too gives a commanding performance.

Performances aside, certain scenes have become etched in the collective conscious of audiences, scenes such as the dream sequence. One evening, Rosemary and Guy decide to get busy at making the baby. Before they do so, they eat some chocolate mousse, a treat given to them by the Castevets. Something in the dessert causes Rosemary to become ill. She lies in bed and succumbs to a dreamlike trance. She’s on a cruise ship, all the neighbors are there. She’s tied to a bed naked. Demonic arms feel her body. I’m not doing this scene justice with my description. It must be seen.  It’s very surreal and uncanny.  And it features a bunch of naked old people!  But don’t worry, the anatomical details are hidden in shadows.  Mostly.

rosemarysbabyDream

 

Anyway, when she wakes up in the morning, Guy tells her that they had made love overnight. Oh but he’s lying! It was Satan that had his way with her the following evening.No one will ever forget the end – the big twist. See, many viewers had watched this film, probably thinking that the terror was all in Rosemary’s head and that she was delusional. All that was laid to waste at the end with the old people in the apartment giving praise to Satan while babysitting the Underlord’s newborn. Surprising, scary and funny all at the same time!

There are some subtle things about this film that I enjoy. For instance, there is a reoccurring sound of a clock ticking in the Woodhouse’s apartment. Sometimes its prominent, other times it fades into the background. It adds to the tension. It signifies that something will happen by the movie’s end. We just have to wait. Tick tick tick!

rosemarysbabyApartmentBuildingFrom a cinematography stand point; I appreciate the opening sequence that shows an aerial view of a skyline of apartment buildings. The camera pans across them, and finally it settles on the one; the apartment building where the action of Rosemary’s Baby takes place. Architecturally, it’s a beautiful building. In the film it is called the Bramford Building. According to Onthesetofnewyork.com, in real life it is called the Dakota. It stands at the northwest corner of 72nd   street and Central Park West in New York City. Designed by the Architectural firm of Henry Janeway Hardenbergh and constructed in 1880, it has High gables, deep roofs, a profusion of dormers. It’s style is that of the North German Renaissance. It is the perfect building to set the scene.  For one thing, it has a haunted history. There have been many ghost sightings in and around the premises over the years. Celebrities who stayed here have witnessed paranormal events. Maury Povich described the place as “Very haunted”. John Lennon claimed to have seen a UFO while looking out one of the windows.  Tragically, Lennon would die here. He would be shot to death while standing in front of the Dakota Building. Later residents would claim to have seen his ghost within the building.

An article by Jessica Jewett provides the details:

http://jessicajewettonline.com/ghosts-of-the-dakota-building

Did Polanski know about the hauntings before using The Dakota as his establishing shot? I don’t know. But he certainly provided a fitting backdrop for the events that take place in the film.

Finally, there’s the William Castle scene. Oops, did I forget to mention that this master-of-gimmicks director produced this film? I guess I did. Known for directing films such as The House on Haunted Hill and 13 Ghosts, he teamed with Polanski to make Rosemary’s Baby the successful film that it was. And he has a cameo! He enters a phone booth after Rosemary exits. I just thought I should mention this. I don’t know why. Perhaps because I dig the late Great William Castle.

 

And so, this will wrap up this review. Adrian, Son of Satan, I don’t know where you are today. Are your sitting before a cake with fifty candles? I’m sure your daddy down in Hell could provide the flames for these candles. I’m sure he’s proud of you. Happy Fiftieth Birthday!  And to you, Rosemary’s Baby the film – Happy Birthday.  Ah but you’re a timeless film and therefore since conception, you have entered the realm of eternity. Your greatness will live forever!