******SATANIC SPOILERS!******

ParamountPlus has recently released a made-for-streaming movie called “Apartment 7A,” which is a prequel to 1968’s horror classic “Rosemary’s Baby.” This new prequel focuses on a minor character from the original who met her demise early on in that film, and whose experiences more or less mirror those of Rosemary Woodhouse herself.  

For this column, I’m going to examine the 2024 prequel, but first, I’d like to briefly explore the original movie, its 1976 made-for-TV sequel, and the misfired 2014 reboot miniseries. Having recently reread Ira Levin’s original 1967 novel a couple of months ago, I’ve been on something of a kick for this story. So, let’s begin at the beginning, or, as Roman Castavet (aka Steven Marcato) might say, “The year is one…”

“Rosemary’s Baby” (1968)

Faithfully adapted from Ira Levin’s novel and directed by Roman Polanski (“The Fearless Vampire Killers,” “Chinatown”), “Rosemary’s Baby” sees young couple Rosemary (Mia Farrow) and Guy Woodhouse (John Cassavetes) moving into the fictional “Bramford” apartments (nee: the Dakota building) in New York City.  The building has an infamous history of murder, cannibalism, and other dastardly deeds in its long history, as Rosemary’s old friend Hutch (Maurice Evans) tries to warn her.  Settling into the building, “Ro” makes friends with tenant Terry Gionoffrio (Victoria Vetri); a gum-smacking, down-to-earth former drug addict who was rescued off the street by Ro’s next door neighbors; the elderly, eccentric Roman Castavet (Sidney Blackmer) and his busybody wife, Minnie (Ruth Gordon).

Note: The memorable music of the film, created by longtime Roman Polanski collaborator Krzysztof Komeda, uses sudden notes of loud brass and horns to elevate the psychological horror in the film, just as Jerry Goldsmith used horns and primitive percussion to depict the bizarre upside-down ape culture in another very influential movie from 1968, “Planet of the Apes” (another movie costarring Maurice Evans). The untraditional music effectively tells that, despite appearances, we are not in our safe, everyday world.

After the seemingly cheerful Terry mysteriously commits suicide, Ro and Guy attract the near-constant attention of Minnie and Roman, who use Terry’s death to guilt the Woodhouses into having dinner at their place. After successfully ingratiating themselves to Guy, Ro still feels vaguely uneasy around the Castavets, despite their seeming flood of helpfulness. One night during a planned “baby night,” Minnie delivers a drugged dessert of ‘chocolate mouse’ (mousse).  Eating only a fraction of it, Rosemary soon succumbs. She then experiences a bizarre dream of being on a boat, and later surrounded by nude observers (including Guy) as she’s raped by an unseen monstrous presence in the Castavet’s apartment.  

Note: As played by actress Victoria Vetri ( “When Dinosaurs Ruled the Earth”), whom she is cheekily ‘mistaken’ for in the film, the character of Terry Gionoffrio is depicted here as a gum-smacking everygirl who watches too much TV, with no mention of a dancing career (either in the movie or Ira Levin’s book). Nor are there any other traits seen of the character in the 2024 prequel “Apartment 7A” (more on that later).

Rosemary later learns she’s pregnant, and following the mysterious death of her old friend Hutch, she slowly unravels a bizarre witchcraft conspiracy plot involving her unborn baby.  The plot is spearheaded by the Castavets, and it involves Guy, her fellow tenants at the Bramford, and even her new, high society obstetrician, Dr. Sapirstein (Ralph Bellamy). The movie shifts from the horrors of an unhealthy pregnancy to an all-out conspiracy thriller, as everyone in Ro’s orbit seems to be in on the plot.  Eventually, she is forced to give birth at her apartment, as Saperstein and the witch’s coven assist.  

Note: It’s no surprise that Ruth Gordon won the Best Supporting Actress Oscar in 1969 for her insidious, nuanced performance in this film. Her role of Minnie Castavet would later go to another Oscar winner, Dianne Wiest, in the prequel “Apartment 7A.”

During her recovery, Rosemary is told the baby died following ‘complications.’ However, after sneaking into the Castavet’s apartment through an adjoining closet, and armed with a butcher knife, Rosemary finds her baby alive. With the coven’s pretense lifted, Rosemary learns that her husband Guy allowed her to be raped and impregnated by Satan for success with his career.  Peering into the infant’s black bassinet, Rosemary is horrified by its unseen demonic features (“It’s eyes! What have you done to its eyes??!”), but soon, she eases into her new role as the antichrist’s mother with an almost catatonic indifference… 

The End.

Note: “Rosemary’s Baby” combines a Satanic conspiracy thriller with the uniquely feminine horror of a pending pregnancy gone terribly wrong; all served with great verisimilitude. On an uncomfortable topic, I don’t wish to re-litigate the rape conviction against director Roman Polanski in this column. I’m a fan of the movie, not the man. However, a year after the film’s release, Polanski’s own pregnant young wife, actress Sharon Tate, was brutally murdered by a group of deranged young cultists under the leadership of conman/would-be prophet, Charles Manson. Tate’s own murder was more vicious than nearly anything ever depicted in Polanski’s movies.

“Look What’s Happened to Rosemary’s Baby” (1976)

The 1976 TV movie sequel “Look What’s Happened to Rosemary’s Baby” recasts all the major roles, except for Ruth Gordon’s Minnie.  Divided into three biblical-style ‘Books,’ Patty Duke plays a slightly older Rosemary in “The Book of Rosemary” as she’s doing her best to escape the coven with her now eight old year-old son.  Meanwhile, Roman (Ray Milland) calls Guy (George Maharis), who’s also contacted by Rosemary, who needs her ex-husband to send her money.  For helping Rosemary, Guy is temporarily blinded by the coven as penance. As Rosemary and young Adrian flee, they befriend a prostitute named Marjean (Tina Louise), who betrays Rosemary and takes Adrian.

“The Book of Adrian” takes place 20 years later, where Adrian lives with his “aunt” Marjean, and befriends a young Christian man named Peter (David Huffman), who tries to steer Adrian away from his own worst impulses.  Turns out Marjean is connected to Minnie and Roman’s coven, and before long, the two surprisingly spry oldsters arrive, pretending to be relatives. Soon all hell breaks loose at Adrian’s birthday party, when his ‘father’ Guy crashes the event. Adrian’s saintly friend Peter is electrocuted to death by with a broken power cord, for which Adrian is blamed. 

“The Book of Andrew” sees Adrian awakening in a hospital, under police custody for Peter’s death. A beautiful nurse named Ellen (Donna Mills) befriends Adrian, whom she called “Andrew,” because his mother called him that in secret. The two of them get romantically involved very quickly, and as Guy tries to intercept Adrian, Ellen helps him escape.  Guy’s car crashes, and he’s killed.  Adrian walks away, leaving Ellen pregnant with his son.  We see Ellen giving birth later on, delivering the antichrist’s son into the waiting arms of Roman and Minnie (who must be centenarians by now…).

The End.

Note: An earnest, if forgettable sequel that’s hampered mainly by its unconvincing time jumps, a “Love Boat”-style guest cast, and a lack of the original’s craftsmanship, careful plotting and suspense.  However, as sequels go (especially made-for-TV sequels), I’ve certainly seen worse.

This brings me to…

“Rosemary’s Baby” (2014)

My least favorite of the bunch is only ten years old, but 2014’s “Rosemary’s Baby” has already dated worse than the original.  Ditching the book and original movie’s everyday realism, this version sees a recently miscarrying Rosemary (Zoe Saldana) and Guy (Patrick J. Adams) leaving New York to make a fresh start in Paris (as you do). From there, the story more or less unfolds as before, but with more heavy-handed stylization. They meet a younger, handsomer, wealthier, and more obvious version of the Satan-worshipping Castavets; Roman (Jason Isaacs) and his renamed wife Margaux (Carole Bouquet). The only ‘new’ element is a pointless investigation of Roman by the Paris police, as embodied by Commissioner Fontaine (Olivier Rabourdin), whose presence only serves as a placeholder for the original Hutch’s suspicions. Fontaine’s investigation doesn’t change the story’s outcome in any significant way. Rosemary still gives birth to the devil’s kid. End of story.

Note: My biggest problem with this hyper-glamorous miniseries version is that it entirely misses the point of Ira Levin’s novel and Roman Polanski’s original film; that the evil satanic cult of the story could be your kindly, elderly, next-door neighbors. It forsakes all verisimilitude in favor of glitz and glamor. Jason Isaacs, Carole Bouquet, Zoe Saldana and the rest of the cast all looked as if they just stepped off a Vanity Fair photo shoot.  It’s pretty much everything I loathe about modern remakes and their tendency to reject substance in favor of style.  

Which brings me to…

“Apartment 7A” (2024)

“Apartment 7A” opens in 1965, roughly a year before the events of the original film.  We are reintroduced to Terry Gionoffrio (Julia Garner), who is now an aspiring dancer who falls and breaks her ankle midway through a Broadway performance of “Kiss Me, Kate.”  She gains infamy as “the girl who fell” in casting circles. This reputation makes it difficult for her to find work, let alone while she’s still recovering from her injury.  

Note: Writer/director Natalie Erika James, along with cowriters Skylar James and Christian White, clearly didn’t do the math. The movie opens in 1965, yet we later see both Christmas and New Year’s Eve either mentioned or depicted, which means it becomes 1966 well before the movie’s end. This contradicts the timeline of the first film, in which Terry was dead long before Christmas of 1965, let alone New Year’s Eve. It was also well established that Rosemary Woodhouse had already become the new satanic surrogate by that time as well, giving birth in the summer of 1966. This is surprisingly sloppy.

Following a painful audition for top producer Alan Marchand (Jim Sturgess), a humiliated Terry hits up a local drug dealer for some unprescribed opiates, only to return to her apartment where she overhears her two roomies arguing over whether or not to kick her out. Speaking in Terry’s defense is her bestie, Annie (Marli Siu), a fellow dancer who sympathizes with her friend’s struggles. Determined to prove herself, Terry decides to audition in-person for Marchand, after locating his apartment in the Bramford building (the site of the original movie’s shenanigans).

Feeling dizzy from pain and too many drugs, she collapses in front of the Bramford, where she is seen and taken in by the elderly Castavets, Minnie (Dianne Wiest) and her husband Roman (Kevin McNally)—who, of course, have their own designs on the young woman dropped almost right at their doorstep. 

Note: The character being played by waifish actress Julia Garner is much closer to the demure, sensitive Rosemary Woodhouse than the gum-smacking, superficial Terry Gionoffrio as played by Victoria Vetri in the original film. That Terry openly spoke to Rosemary about how the Castavets took her in from the streets, where she was a withering dope addict; not a Broadway dancer hooked on opiates following a painful accident. This is an obvious retcon to make Terry more sympathetic, but it is not authentic to the character. The original Terry was also starstruck when Rosemary mentioned her husband Guy was an actor, saying that she watched a lot of TV. Neither the book nor the first movie ever mentioned that Terry was an established Broadway dancer herself.

Awakening the next morning in the Castavet’s apartment, Terry is not sure what to make of her eccentric new hosts/benefactors. She is then made an offer to live rent-free in 7A; an apartment down the hall, which they own as well. At first, Terry refuses their too-generous offer, but later realizes she has few alternatives, and accepts, after the childless couple repeatedly reassure her that it’s no trouble.  While unpacking in her new digs, Terry comes across a ballet slipper labeled for “Joan Cebulski.” 

Note: Oscar-winner Dianne Wiest does an admirable Ruth Gordon impression, and she’s physically closer to how Minnie is described in the book, but her performance here is little more than an impression. Kevin McNally’s Roman lacks all of the presence of Sidney Blackmer, leaving his Roman feeling almost like a stand-in used between takes for lighting checks.

Invited for drinks at the Castavet’s apartment that evening, she finds the old folks have stood her up, so she decides to pursue her original goal of personally auditioning for Alan Marchand.  Screwing up the courage, she finds his apartment, and he welcomes her inside. Simultaneously interviewing and studying Terry, Marchand fixes drinks for them both. Slipping her a roofie, Terry quickly succumbs to unconsciousness.  She then experiences a surreal dream of dancing with Marchand on a sweeping Broadway stage, before the ‘dream’ devolves into a horrific, monstrous nightmare of rape. She awakens, and Marchand implies they had sex before giving her a top spot in his next show.

Note: There is no hint of an attraction between Marchand and Terry, leaving his drugging and proxy-rape of her feeling rushed and perfunctory. Lacking the nervous energy and hints of moral conflict we saw in John Cassavetes’ Guy Woodhouse, Alan Marchand feels like a cardboard cutout of a character.

During a costume party at the Castavet’s apartment, Terry meets other members of their secret coven, including obstetrician Dr. Abe Sapirstein (Patrick Lyster) who gives Terry a non-narcotic cure for her ankle, which allows her to dance as she did before her accident—perhaps even better. She then meets NY retired attorney Lily Gardenia (Tina Gray); the ill-fated, conflicted coven member who currently occupies the future apartment of Rosemary and Guy Woodhouse. The Castavets also give Terry a charm necklace, which is filled with foul-smelling ‘tannis root’ (just as we saw in the original). In her professional life, Terry’s newfound stature as the producer’s main squeeze creates understandable resentment from her castmates, particularly Vera (Rosy McEwan), who later meets an unfortunate fate for messing with the devil’s chosen one—a fact still unknown to Terry herself.  

Terry awakens with morning sickness, and she visits Dr. Sapirstein, who tells her she’s pregnant. After the Castavets learn of her condition, they begin to smother her with attention.  On her own, Terry later finds a passageway to the currently comatose Lily Gardenia’s apartment, and with a bit of snooping, she learns of Lily’s affiliation with Roman and Minnie’s satanic cult, including a spell book that graphically illustrates their plan to arrange the birth of an antichrist. 

Note: At this point, the prequel sees Terry going though almost all of the same beats we saw Rosemary go through in the original, which only takes away from the significance of Rosemary’s experiences in the first film. This so-called prequel is little more than an unimaginatively rote remake. If they wanted to tell a prequel story, how about seeing a young Roman Castavets (aka Steven Marcato) witnessing the persecution of his Satan-worshipping father, and how he later met likeminded cultist Minnie? That’d be a far more compelling (and untold) story than a dull remake of the original.

Experiencing the same agonizing pains we saw Rosemary deal with, Terry goes to see Dr. Sapirstein, who tries to convince her it’s just prenatal hysteria. Gathering more clues about the local demonic cult, Terry learns more about the missing ballet dancer Joan Cebulski, who was also in the Castavet’s care. Fearing the nature of her unborn baby, Terry is joined by Annie to get a back alley abortion, but her would-be abortionist Wei Wei (Tina Chiang) is nearly killed for her efforts. Terry’s demonic baby clearly won’t allow it.

Note: There is also a scene where Minnie cuts Terry’s hair, which seems more like a forgotten detail rushed into the script when the writers finally remembered that Victoria Vetri sported short hair in the original film. And why wouldn’t Minnie, with all her connections, simply find Terry a decent hairstylist? There is also another scene where Terry walks right past a mute Rosemary (Amy Leeson) in the laundry room with not a word of acknowledgment between them. Weren’t they already firm laundry pals at this point? Why bother to make this film a direct prequel if such details are going to be ignored?

Returning to the Bram, Terry finds a mysterious sub-basement which is decorated with murals and candles; a satanic temple. There, she meets Alan, who tells her this is where she was impregnated by the devil the night they had drinks in his apartment. Lashing out at Marchand, she stabs at him with a ritual knife as a mummified horned being then appears in the de facto temple. Knife in hand, a terrified Terry runs up to the Castavet’s apartment to confront Roman and Minnie…

Note: The barely hinted-at devil from the original film was far scarier than the mummified 1970s Doctor Who villain we see appearing in the Bramford sub-basement. Alan Marchand’s big reveal to Terry (confirming all of her worst suspicions) feels empty and perfunctory as well, since the character simply lacks the presence to make this scene feel tense or explosive.

At the Castavet’s apartment, the knife-wielding Terry holds the the blade to her own stomach, threatening to kill the devil’s spawn within her body—until she’s felled by sudden pains.  Realizing Terry is unable to self-abort, Roman tells her how important her baby will be to the world, declaring “God is dead!  It is the year one!” (the same thing he yells at the climax of the original).  Minnie then replaces the missing charm necklace, as Terry seemingly submits to the coven’s will; she even joins them as they raise a toast of “Hail Satan!”

Note: The repetition of key lines from the original film in prequels or sequels always puts me off a bit, as it feels too fourth wall-breaking. While “Apartment 7A” isn’t the worst offender in this regard (see “ALIEN: Romulus”), it happens just enough to be distracting.

After the toast, Terry begins screwing with the elderly cultists, as she dances seductively to The Shirelles’ “Be My Baby.” Writhing and even kissing members of the coven, she dances closer and closer to an open window—where she jumps and crashes onto the roof of a parked car, which instantly kills her and the devil’s fetus within.

Note: I had to suppress a chuckle in this scene, as Julia Garner looks like she’s channeling Uma Thurman’s Mia Wallace from “Pulp Fiction.” Having recently rewatched 1968’s “Rosemary’s Baby,” I also remember that the original Terry landed on the sidewalk, not a parked car; that bit of grisly business feels borrowed from the opening of 1987’s “Lethal Weapon.” Once again, do your homework, folks…

The movie ends with a recreated scene from the original, as we see new Bramford building tenants Guy Woodhouse (Scott Hume) and his wife Rosemary (Amy Leeson) come across Terry’s body, as Minnie and Roman approach the scene—pretending to be coming home after an evening out together.  Cue composer Krzysztof Komeda’s “Sleep Safe and Warm,” also known as “The Lullaby from Rosemary’s Baby”…

The End.

Summing Up “Apartment 7A”

If I chose not to believe the credits, I might imagine that “Apartment 7A” was generated entirely from an AI. From its drab, muted color palette and modern horror-movie look, to its unimaginative reuse of scenes, music (Beethoven’s “Für Elise”) and dialogue from the original, this is a by-the-numbers prequel, but with some easily avoidable mistakes made with regards to the 1968 classic.

Once the novelty of Terry being an aspiring dancer is out of the way (which was never alluded to in the original book or movie), the story quickly devolves into a rote remake of the original.  From the moment Terry is impregnated (in another sinister, surreal dream sequence), it’s all downhill…or out the window.  All this repetition simply reminded me what a unique film the original was, and that this prequel was nothing but a murky imitation. Making Terry the ‘first’ only serves to diminish Rosemary’s significance in the original film, as well.

A few jarring anachronisms are afoot, too. For example, we hear “Angel of the Morning” on the soundtrack playing a good two years before it was even written.  The movie also begins in 1965, and ends well after Christmas and New Year’s Eve are rung in, which would put its timeline well after Terry’s death in the original. I also had issues with the movie’s po-faced, sepia-tone cinematography and too-modern horror movie look, which ignores the far richer 1960s color palette and more everyday horror we saw with the late cinematographer William A. Fraker’s brilliant work.

While Oscar-winning costar Dianne Wiest does her best Ruth Gordon impression, her ‘Minnie Castavet’ never gets beneath the surface. Other supporting cast members are little more than lookalike chess pieces (they even have a Ralph Bellamy stand-in as Dr. Sapirstein), lacking the original cast’s seething menace. Meanwhile, the younger cast of “Apartment 7A” is predominately model-beautiful; unlike the variety of faces and bodies seen in the original “Rosemary’s Baby.”  Personally, I miss the days when movies weren’t afraid to occasionally use non-pretty people, too.

Waifish lead Julia Garner’s version of Terry Gionoffrio isn’t the gum-smacking, recovered dope addict and laundry pal of Rosemary Woodhouse. She’s just another Rosemary Woodhouse; same personality, same trajectory.  She even hails from Nebraska, just like Rosemary, though Terry has an evil, self-centered director/lover instead of an evil, self-centered actor/husband. About the only surprise from the character comes in the film’s final moments when Garner suddenly channels a Spirit Halloween version of Uma Thurman’s ‘Mia Wallace’ from “Pulp Fiction” (right down to her clothes and short dark hair).

At the end of “Apartment 7A”’s mercifully brief 104 minute runtime, there are no surprises, suspense or thrills to be found, save for a couple of cheap, predictable ‘jump scares’ (a staple of modern horror). In fact, if you’ve seen the original “Rosemary’s Baby,” you’ve already seen the superior sequel to this dismally mediocre prequel. As ill-conceived as Rosemary Woodhouse’s demonic infant, “Apartment 7A” should never have been brought to term.

Where to Watch

“Apartment 7A” and the original “Rosemary’s Baby” (a classic; highly recommended) are currently available for streaming exclusively on Paramount+, and for digital purchase on iTunes and Amazon Prime Video.