The Enduring Cultural Relevance of Rosemary’s Baby
June 12, 1968. The plaintive lyrics of Simon & Garfunkel’s #1 hit song “Mrs. Robinson” drift out into the air from open apartment windows and passing grotto blue Chevrolet Camaro convertibles.
American progressives observe the first anniversary of Loving v. Virginia, the fittingly-named landmark United States Supreme Court decision that struck down state laws banning interracial marriage.
And movie-going audiences are shocked and fascinated by the premiere of a horrifying new film reflecting the widespread cultural paranoia engendered by the recent assassinations of Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert Kennedy, the often-hidden female ambivalence about pregnancy, and the deep-seated anxiety of living in a world where your consent, autonomy, and lived experience can be (and frequently are) routinely disrespected.
“This is no dream! This is really happening!”
Based on Ira Levin’s enormously best-selling second novel and directed by the since-disgraced Polish-French filmmaker Roman Polanski, Rosemary’s Baby centres on a young couple, Rosemary and Guy Woodhouse, who move into The Bramford, a desirable New York apartment building.
Their new neighbours, an elderly couple named Minnie and Roman Castevet, quickly insert themselves into the Woodhouses’ lives. Their malignant presence only intensifies once Guy lands a key role in a high-profile play and Rosemary becomes pregnant.
Throughout her pregnancy, Rosemary is haunted by the strong feeling that something is very, very wrong — a fear that is dismissed and ridiculed by her husband, her overbearing neighbours, and the condescending obstetrician they insist she use. When Rosemary’s friend and ally, Edward “Hutch” Hutchins, falls into a mysterious coma and eventually dies, he leaves Rosemary a set of clues that point to a sinister, satanic conspiracy between her husband and the Castevets.
As her paranoia grows, Rosemary becomes desperate to save herself and her baby. When she’s finally able to flee to the office of her former doctor, the terrified and extremely pregnant woman breathes a sigh of relief — finally, someone will listen to her, believe her lived experience, and give her the help she needs.
Image: Rosemary’s Baby (1968, Paramount Pictures)
For many women, it will come as no surprise that her doctor does not, in fact, take her concerns seriously.
Convinced that Rosemary is hysterical and imagining everything, her doctor betrays her in the most painful and infuriating way possible — he contacts her abusers and sends her back into her waking nightmare, under the threat of involuntary psychiatric commitment.
Gaslighting & Gender Bias: The Real Horror of Healthcare
When it comes to women’s physical and mental health, there is a long and enduring history of gaslighting (particularly for BIPOC women, who may also face a lack of cultural awareness). Women’s health concerns are frequently dismissed as exaggerated, psychosomatic, purely hormonal, or even outright lies, leading to misdiagnoses, late diagnoses, and poor health outcomes.
Women are more likely to have their heart attack symptoms ignored, with fatal results. In many places, postpartum needs are likely to be overlooked. Our pain is minimised and we receive fewer or less effective painkillers. Frequently, our physical symptoms are dismissed as anxiety or even hypochondria.
This systemic lack of trust and care extends to the political sphere when policies and laws regarding women’s health, and particularly women’s reproductive health, are shaped by politicians, policymakers, and judges who choose to ignore the lived experiences of those who will be most impacted. Draconian anti-choice laws in the United States are quite literally killing women, as doctors hesitate to provide life-saving care for fear of prosecution.
It’s been exactly 57 years since Rosemary’s Baby premiered in theatres — a period that includes both the U.S. Supreme Court’s pro-choice Roe v. Wade decision in 1973 and its subsequent decision to overturn it in 2022. Hard-won progress, both in terms of legislation and in societal attitudes, is slipping away.
In this increasingly dystopian landscape, the chillingly prescient psychological horror of Rosemary’s Baby resonates all the more sharply. Pair it with Bryan Forbes’ 1972 film The Stepford Wives (based on novelist Levin’s follow-up to Rosemary’s Baby) for a double bill that will get you hyped up to volunteer for your local progressive party, invite some friends over to create your own medical binders, and maybe plan a killer hex party.
Your Accursed Librarian,
Valeska