As a longtime fan of the chilling world of Ira Levin’s “Rosemary’s Baby,” I eagerly anticipated Natalie Erika James’ prequel, “Apartment 7A.” Having grown up with the original and its haunting imagery, I was intrigued by the prospect of diving back into the Bramford with a new perspective.
Shortly following Rosemary (Mia Farrow), the main character in the 1968 film “Rosemary’s Baby”, settling into the imposing Renaissance-style building called the Bramford with her husband, she comes across Terry Gionoffri. Although their interaction is brief, it leaves a lasting impression.
In this rephrased version, Terry, portrayed by Victoria Vetri with a contagious enthusiasm, helps alleviate Rosemary’s apprehensions about her recent relocation to New York, by letting her know that the other tenants in their apartment building are friendly. In response, Rosemary extends a comforting camaraderie to Terry. Both agree that they will do their laundry together as they find the basement creepy. Before they leave each other, Terry shares some information about the Castevets, an elderly couple who had assisted her during a difficult period. “I wouldn’t be alive today if it weren’t for them,” Terry states emphatically, “that’s a truth beyond any doubt.
The supernatural thriller “Apartment 7A” on Paramount+, helmed by director Natalie Erika James (of “Relic”), delves into the chilling world of Satanic cults and the torment of motherhood, initially created by author Ira Levin and later magnified by Roman Polanski’s gripping film adaptation. In collaboration with Christian White and Skylar James, James expands Terry’s backstory to reveal her heart-wrenching destiny and deepen the bond between her and Rosemary. Unlike a prequel, this tale runs alongside the original story, continually highlighting the constrained independence of women. Both Rosemary and Terry are ensnared by oppressive societal norms, although in distinct manners.
As a single gal aiming for Broadway stardom, I, much like Terry (Julia Garner), spend my days prepping backstage before performances. The thrill of the stage lights and the anticipation of each show makes my heart race. But during one fateful performance, I hurt myself on stage, leaving me unable to dance as gracefully as I’d hoped. In desperation, I turn to painkillers acquired from a street performer nearby. Little did I know that this quick fix would soon become an addiction that threatens to derail my dreams. James skillfully portrays my struggle with addiction in a subtle yet powerful way, perfectly capturing the slow build of my dependency.
In the absence of work, Terry leans on her friend Annie for assistance. A fresh wave of despair sweeps over Terry, a struggling actress, as yet another rejection lands. Desperate for another chance, Terry tracks down Alan Marchand, the producer from her last audition, at his residence, the Bramford. However, the doorman denies Terry entry, and shortly afterward, she crumples onto the pavement outside.
The story really gets going when Minnie, skillfully played by Dianne Wiest, and Roman Castevet, portrayed by Kevin McNally, save Terry. However, the mood remains somewhat subdued, neither evoking the chilling apprehension of Polanski’s version nor the typical jump scares common in modern horror movies. Some responsibility might be attributed to the balance between Terry’s real life and her ambitions in show business. James incorporates several musical scenes, often occurring during instances when Terry is on the border between being awake and asleep. Yet these dreamlike sequences come across more as amusing distractions than as unsettling, supernatural experiences. They also dilute some of the subtle nuances in Apartment 7A‘s quieter themes.
As I delve into the captivating world of “Apartment 7A”, it’s evident that I’ve stepped into a role that feels like destiny, thanks to the Castevets’ benevolence. However, as I settle into the apartment next to them, their influence over my life becomes increasingly apparent. They orchestrate my life in such a way that I secure a coveted role in a major play and find financial ease. Yet, nothing that comes without cost is truly free. The bouts of morning sickness were my first inkling, and a visit to the clinic confirmed my suspicions – I was carrying a child. A child not mine, but one destined for darkness, much like Rosemary’s in “Rosemary’s Baby”. While the narrative doesn’t delve into the chilling encounter between Rosemary and me, their interaction lingers, casting a dark shadow over the residents of the Bramford, hinting at their depravity.
Taking over from Vetri’s role, Ozark‘s star Garner infuses the character Terry with a mix of lighter and darker qualities. The complexity of her ambition propels her towards the Castevets, creating a deeper narrative. Garner strive to add depth to the part, but a sense of detachment persists between the audience and Terry.
In the performance, Wiest skillfully moves her character Minnie towards bridging that distance. She adjusts her acting to gradually transform Minnie’s demeanor from overwhelming warmth into abrasive assertiveness. A particularly powerful scene shows Minnie, while cutting Terry’s hair, subtly conveying that the dancer will never outsmart her. Apart from the climactic scene, Wiest and Garner shine brightest during this tense, nerve-wracking moment. As Minnie tightens her grip on Terry’s hair, the true nature of their deal becomes painfully apparent: a baby for fame.
During Terry’s pregnancy, the movie resonates with themes of personal control over one’s body, much like in “Rosemary’s Baby”. However, while James’ film is remarkably significant in contemporary America following the media buzz about restrictive laws limiting abortion rights, it’s unfortunate that its impact doesn’t consistently reflect its timeliness. The dialogues between Annie and Terry add tension, as does the deteriorating bond between Terry and Minnie. Unfortunately, overall, “Apartment 7A” appears to be somewhat subdued compared to the weight of its messages.
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2024-09-21 01:25