OxfordPress.com

By DIANE THOMAS
Cox News Service

"Rosemary's Baby" is a movie that nobody is likely to forget for a long, long time.

Its story goes deeper than that of a thriller, even the best of thrillers. The movie digs down to more elemental feelings than even man's fear of death or insanity, the grist of the thriller mill. "Rosemary's Baby" crosses over into the murky area of man's fear of the unknown.

The story deals with witchcraft. But it's not the witchcraft of boiling cauldrons, bat-infested castles, cackling crones and vivisected toadfrogs. It's the late, late horror show brand that can be dismissed.

THEIR QUARRY
Ira Levin, who wrote the book from which the movie was made, placed his witches in New York on Central Park West. Played by Ruth Gordon and Sidney Blackmer, they look like nothing more sinister than an aging pair of vaudeville hoofers. But their quarry, if the story's mysterious undertones are to be believes, is Mia Farrow and her unborn child.

"Rosemary's Baby" should catapult Roman Polanski into that elite category of "star" directors whose name alone can sell a picture, of which the best American example is Alfred Hitchcock.

Polanski proved himself adept at the psychological thriller while still working in Poland with "Knife in the Water." "Repulsion" established him in the art house circuit. "Rosemary's Baby" should make him known to the moviegoer in the street. In addition to coaxing an acting performance out of Miss Farrow as Rosemary, which, considering some of her "Peyton Place" boggles, is unbelievable. Polanski sets up an environment in which the most ordinary-seeming occurrences can strike chords of unspeakable horror.

RAW MEAT
A pregnant woman's craving for raw meat, a man's pierced ear, a missing glove -- even a person with the most elementary knowledge of witchcraft, under Polanski's guidance, can piece together the puzzle.

To make his tale credible, Polanski revels in the ordinary. Rosemary and her actor husband, Guy (John Cassavetes) live in a white and yellow apartment with ruffled curtains. Their young friends look like typical young New Yorkers. Guy is the epitome of the cynical, slightly successful actor, not a man to traffic in the black arts. The surrounding are not those to give one disturbing thoughts of the occult.

This is what give the film its power. An average young couple having their first child, a pair of kookie neighbors who look like so many other aging eccentrics, maybe someone you know -- you don't believe in witches, but that doesn't keep the little hairs on the back of your neck from prickling.

"Rosemary's Baby" is the best movie of its genre I have seen. For shock effect, not even "Psycho" can touch it. It should establish Mia Farrow as an actress of stature and Roman Polanski as a name which will be remembered.