Many would argue that a prequel to Rosemary’s Baby is a blasphemous idea, a slight to horror fans. Roman Polanski’s 1968 classic is not only iconic but also celebrated by critics, audiences, and the Academy Awards, which honored Ruth Gordon with a rare Best Supporting Actress win for her role in a horror film. A prequel to a 56-year-old horror masterpiece might seem like a mere cash grab. However, Natalie Erika James has defied expectations with Apartment 7A, crafting a horror treasure that respects its roots.

Set months before Rosemary Woodhouse moves into Manhattan’s infamous Bramford apartments, Apartment 7A centers on Terry Gionoffrio (Julia Garner), a minor character from Rosemary’s Baby. Some may argue that this story mirrors Rosemary’s, particularly with the intrusive attention and manipulation from the nosy Castevets next door (portrayed by Dianne Wiest and Kevin McNally). Nevertheless, the screenplay by Natalie Erika James, Skylar James, and Christian White adeptly blends familiar elements with unique demonic twists and a significant divergence in the protagonist’s ambitions.

A remarkable follow-up to James’ chilling directorial debut, Relic, Apartment 7A is a gripping narrative of ambition, betrayal, and bodily autonomy that aligns cleverly with its source material while making a relevant statement of its own.

What is the connection between Apartment 7A and Rosemary’s Baby?

In the original film, Terry Gionoffrio shares a brief moment with Rosemary, bonding over laundry in the eerie basement of the Bramford. The friendly Terry reveals to her new neighbor that she lives with Roman and Minnie Castevet, who rescued her from the streets. “I was starving and on drugs,” Terry admits, adding, “I’d be dead now if it wasn’t for them…dead or in jail.” She also shows Rosemary her peculiar-smelling necklace, a good luck charm from Minnie. https://carsnewstoday.com/entertainment/julia-garner-shines-in-apartment-7a-a-timely-terrifying-rosemarys-baby-prequel-you-wont-want-to-miss/

Apartment 7A explores Terry’s history, illuminating her life prior to the fateful moment on the Bramford’s sidewalk and the occurrences that transpired between her introduction in Rosemary’s Baby and her dramatic exit. A gifted dancer on the verge of fame, Terry’s career was derailed by an ankle injury that compelled her to turn to drugs for relief, earning her infamy within New York City’s theatrical circles. Eager for a shift in her fortunes, Terry is easily influenced by the generosity of the Castevets, who provide her with complimentary accommodation and a private audience with their theater producer neighbor, Alan Marchand (Jim Sturgess). They even supply her with homemade medicinal poultices from their neighbor, Mrs. Gardenia (Tina Gray).

Indeed, fans of Rosemary’s Baby, the very same Mrs. Gardenia whose apartment Rosemary and Guy occupy at the beginning of their film.

Apartment 7A elaborates on but is not confined to Rosemary’s Baby.

While James remains loyal to certain narrative elements to maintain the classic canon, she introduces several significant divergences. For example, although Rosemary enters the laundry room in this prequel, the scene from the original is not replicated. In fact, it bears no resemblance; in Apartment 7A, the costumes and Terry’s hairstyle do not align with that 1968 scene. This indicates that James is embracing how Terry’s viewpoint might transform the perception of events, including fashion and which moments hold importance for her. While their encounter may have been a crucial moment for Rosemary, for Terry, it was merely a minor detail — she had more urgent matters to attend to by that point.

Even more intriguing is how James depicts Terry’s harrowing night with the devil. As Terry’s mind is filled with imagery from musicals, her drug-fueled vision of those violating events unfolds like a theatrical performance. The Bramford morphs into a two-dimensional stage set, a charming Marchand leads her in a waltz, and ultimately a demon — adorned in shimmering sequins — crawls upon her reclining form.

I have long championed the idea that horror films should feature more song-and-dance sequences, and Apartment 7A has arrived to validate my assertion! This is a chilling and spectacular, dazzling and macabre blend. Truly, James has taken the somberly terrifying tale of manipulation, bodily violation, and betrayal from the original material, but infused it with her own fervor for musical theater.

Terry’s life is thrown into chaos upon learning of her pregnancy, as the impending arrival of a child threatens her blossoming career. In a time when abortion remains an unregulated healthcare choice, Terry, aided by her close friend Annie (Marli Siu), is compelled to seek out a clandestine abortionist, leading to a scene that is profoundly disturbing on various levels.

Julia Garner dazzles in Apartment 7A.

Taking on the role originally made famous by Mia Farrow is no small feat, yet Garner seems undeterred. Perhaps it’s due to her portrayal of Terry being bolder and more openly defiant against Minnie’s encroachments. Or maybe it’s the harsh treatment from the capricious whims of chorus girls and casting directors — as one particularly harrowing scene demonstrates — that has fortified her resolve.

Observing Garner tense her jaw before breaking into a smile to perform for the indifferent audience of New York City is not only electrifyingly mesmerizing but also fuels my hope that the rumors of her portraying Madonna in a potential biopic materialize. Garner embodies a rare blend of screen charisma and tenacity that makes her an undeniable force. Witnessing this in a context where we are acutely aware of the challenges she faces is truly exhilarating. While Rosemary couldn’t outsmart her adversaries, might Terry discover a path through the perilous maze that is the Bramford?

With Relic, Natalie Erika James intricately wove a narrative exploring mother-daughter dynamics and familial curses into a chilling thriller. Here, she harnesses her emotional acuity and talent for crafting disquieting scenes to narrate a tale that feels both recognizable and all the more terrifying for it. We anticipate the conclusion of Terry’s journey due to the legacy of Rosemary’s Baby. Yet, James keeps us riveted as she skillfully weaves a tapestry of rich drama and subtle horror, featuring poignant dialogues, jarring jump scares, and bold brilliance. From Polanski’s groundwork, she constructs a dazzling narrative of stolen innocence that is disturbing, breathtaking, and chillingly pertinent.