Despite being regarded as a stone-cold horror classic and inspiring countless films (and several seasons of Ryan Murphy’s American Horror Story), the original 1968 Rosemary’s Baby has never been a favorite of mine. The themes have aged well but the pacing has not—for the majority of the runtime, I was pretty bored with the whole affair. None of this is meant to diminish the timeless film’s legacy, or its ferocious impact on cinema at large. Without it, like-minded titles such as Annabelle, Inside, Devil’s Due, The Lords of Salem, Hereditary, False Positive, and so many others would simply not exist. This is a lengthy preface for a second admission: before starting my screener of Apartment 7A, Paramount+’s well-publicized prequel to Rosemary’s Baby, my expectations were pretty much non-existent. Against all odds, director and co-writer Natalie Erika James crafts an impressive ode to the horror of yesteryear, armed with surprisingly potent psychological torment and a powerful lead performance from three-time Emmy-winner Julia Garner.
Set in 1965 New York City, Apartment 7A throws us right into the first night of a stage performance. Struggling dancer Terry (Garner, Ozark, The Perks of Being a Wallflower) makes a terrible misstep, and is promptly rushed offstage. From here, Terry struggles to find work again, going from casting calls to auditions, willing to do whatever it takes to see her name in lights. Still, Terry does draw the line somewhere. When propositioned by theatre manager Alan (Jim Sturgess, Across the Universe, 21), Terry insists that she refuses to humiliate herself. She does eventually follow Alan to his apartment building, the Bramford, desperate for another chance to right the wrong of her not-so-successful audition. Seeing a frantic woman in need, a wealthy elderly couple who reside in that very same building offer up a place to stay the night. What at first seems surprisingly hospitable becomes even moreso the next morning, when Minnie (Dianne Wiest, The Birdcage, Edward Scissorhands) and her husband, Roman (Kevin McNally, Pirates of the Caribbean, Johnny English), promise Terry a whole apartment that has conveniently been recently vacated. There appears to be no catch either, as Terry can stay until she gets “back on her feet again.”
Despite the horrible of a trajectory that Terry was having before deciding to move in, a complete reversal begins to occur. Minnie and Roman arrange for a dinner date with Alan and Terry. Alan suggests Terry for a major role in his new Broadway show, but things quickly spiral out of control as Terry loses time. Strange bruises and markings appear on Terry’s body, yet in the same breath, Alan tells her she has officially joined the chorus! Has she been drugged? Is she being gaslit, just as Rosemary will also be years later? The lines begin to blur between fantasy and reality. Haunting imagery includes some kind of freaky bedazzled monster, a demonic horned figure, and an erratic elevator. Terry battles her way to the top as strange, body-twisting horrors unfold around her. Somehow, director Natalie Erika James manages to keep the film feeling fresh despite walking familiar territory.
Even one-time viewers of the original should recognize the kooky, overly-friendly neighbors Minnie and Roman, formerly played by Ruth Gordon and Sidney Blackmer, respectively. Terry was in the previous movie as well, albeit played by one Victoria Vetri. Apartment 7A evolves as a prequel in a surprising manner, not requiring a viewing of the first at all, but still deeply connecting with it. Nevertheless, a scene during the end credits draws the line between titles quite directly. The films don’t merely merge on paper, either, as the trio of screenwriters (James, Christian White, Skylar James) manage to wring maximum tension from the concept. Elements of feminism and having control over one’s body are more important to explore now than ever before. While Rosemary’s Baby was revolutionary for its time, Apartment 7A effectively casts its messages through a modern lens.
While serving as a prequel could be a hindrance, it actually becomes a great asset. A slick 1960s aesthetic and costuming plants us directly in that time period. In the hands of Julia Garner, her Terry evolves into a fierce and formidable woman that unfortunately, the original’s Rosemary never manages. The classic Ronettes song “Be My Baby” serves as a standout showcade for Garner in the film’s single best sequence, providing a satisfying crescendo to the climax. Few horror prequels can emerge both necessary and vital. Somehow, Apartment 7A accomplishes both feats. In the end, it will have viewers screaming “Hail, Satan,” and potentially giving that 60s original even more attention.
Stay in Apartment 7A entirely rent free, with only the caveat of sacrificing bodily function—birthing to Paramount+ subscribers and available for purchase on Digital beginning Friday, September 27th. The film also screened at 2024’s Fantastic Fest.
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