Film Reviews

All them Witches

Over the past two weeks or so, I’ve watched around 15 movies related to witches, and I’ve enjoyed almost all of them. Now before I share my conclusion of all these witches, here are just a few more films that may have not made it into complete reviews:

The Witches of Eastwick (1987)

This fun and feminist take on witches was probably the best the eighties had to offer on the subject. Based on John Updike’s novel, and directed by George Miller, the film tells the story of three unusual women; Alexandra (Cher), Jane (Susan Sarandon), and Sukie (Michelle Pfeiffer). All three women are outcasts in their society, abandoned by their husbands, and left to rely on each other for emotional support. One night they manage to conjure their ideal male, who also happens to be the devil (Jack Nickolson), and eventually it takes all three of them to try and escape his grip.

The movie is light and fun to watch, the three main ladies are all gorgeous, and it’s heartwarming to see them come together and push each other up. Of course the film still has a whole lot of silly effects and unexplained subplots, but I am sure almost any viewer can overcome that to enjoy the film’s overall cheerful and entertaining atmosphere.

The Love Witch (2016)

I am just gonna start off by saying this movie is weird. Once again this is a feminist take on witches, written, directed, produced, edited, in addition to a bunch of other titles, by Anna Biller, and starring Samantha Robinson as Elaine, a young Wicca witch using love magic to find her perfect match. However, every time Elaine uses her magic to make a man fall in love with her, it seems that they fall so hard it ends killing them. Elaine’s life gets complicated once the police start investigating the death of one of her “lovers”, and the only question that remains is whether her magic can save her this time or simply backfire as usual.

The visuals of this film are just stunning, the colors pop out of the screen, the costumes are meticulously chosen, and overall it’s filled with close ups reminiscent of 1960’s technicolor movies. And yet it is so freaking random, the dialogue is simply a war between the sexes, going back and forth on defining love, and overall it is incredibly campy, from the music to the story to the purposefully cringe worthy performance, everything screams camp. Frankly I didn’t enjoy the movie very much, surely it looked gorgeous, but every single line that was ridiculously over acted made me cringe, but if you have no problems with this kind of art, you should absolutely check it out.

Hereditary (2018)

Ari Aster’s debut feature film received widespread critical acclaim, and with good reason. The film starts after the death of the matriarch of the family, where her daughter Annie (Toni Collette) struggles to overcome both her resentment and curiosity about her late mother. A series of mishaps and tragedies follows, which tears the family apart bit by bit, forcing Annie to dig up her mother’s past, and to try and understand the late woman’s involvement with the occult.

Hereditary carefully examines the theme of mental illness, as Annie’s anxieties stem from her knowledge of her family’s long history of mental problems. The film is a classy piece of horror, keeping the jump scares, and occult elements at a minimum and focusing on its characters’ emotional struggles to deliver a much more effective dose of horror. With Collette’s incredibly powerful performance, and Ari Aster’s sharp directorial style, the film is definitely worth watching.

Midsommar (2019)

The second film from Ari Aster is equally incredible, and I simply couldn’t choose just one. The events of Midsommar take place in Sweden, where a group of American friends are invited to attend a once in a lifetime event; a midsummer festival by a pagan cult called Hårga. Two of the Americans; Dani (Florence Pugh) and Christian (Jack Reynor) are a couple in very strained relationship, and as their relationship deteriorates, the wildness of the festival simply amplifies, culminating in a rather shocking ending for all parties.

Unlike his previous film, Aster placed the cult front and center in Midsommar, and although Dani and Christian’s relationship remains at the heart of the movie, the film extensively explores the psychology of people living in cults, and even the kind of emotional support they might get from it. Filled with psychedelic sequences, as hallucinogenic tea is simply a part of the cult’s everyday life, as well as disturbing pagan rituals, Midsommar manages to lure its viewer into the unsettling and often gruesome community of Hårga.


I guess this is the end of this series, and as much as I wish you’ll check all of the films mentioned, I suppose a roundup of the best films is necessary. I think it’s important to view Rosemary’s Baby (1968), other than the fact that it’s an absolute classic, its exploration of motherhood is exceptional, and is bound to intrigue any viewer. Belladonna of Sadness (1973) is also a must-watch, simply because it is absolutely gorgeous. The Witch (2015) is a slow burn that depends on atmosphere and historical accuracy to tell its sinister folk tale. Finally I think the most realistic representation of witches would have to be Hagazussa (2017); if you’re interested in the history of witchcraft, and a logical explanation for the burning of hundreds of women on the stake, then this is the most honest answer. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll just go watch cartoons for the rest of the month.

Film Reviews

Film Review: Hagazussa (2017)

In my last post I reviewed Robert Egger’s 2015 debut The Witch, so I thought perhaps this is a good time to take a look at this German much darker take on witches; Austrian director Lukas Feigelfeld’s 2017 debut Hagazussa, which apparently also translates to the witch in High German. The film is an Austrian- German production that was released in 2018, almost three years after The Witch’s, something that Figelfeld has stated was disappointing for him, as he had been working on his film for years before and didn’t want audiences to draw comparisons immediately, which is frankly very hard not to do.

Set in the middle ages in a rural Alpine community, the film explores the life of its main character Albrun (Aleksandra Cwen) in the form of four acts, each with a distinct underlying theme. In the beginning we see Albrun attending to her sick mother in a secluded cabin in the mountains, where they live together alone and excluded from their community, which considers them witches. The mother eventually dies in a rather gruesome manner leaving Albrun to deal with her traumatic loss and to fend for herself alone in this wilderness. The rest of the film explores Albrun’s adult and extremely lonely life, as she becomes a single mother ostracized by the townsfolk, and relying on goat herding to provide for herself and her baby. Her past traumas are vivid in every scene, she is on the verge of psychosis because of her complete isolation, and eventually all of her mental problems are rather amplified by the way her community behaves towards her, which meticulously pushes her further towards complete and utter madness.

The main theme of the film is almost identical to that of The Witch; it’s a careful study on the causes and circumstances of Europe’s witch hunt of the Middle Ages, but while Egger’s film presents itself as a folk tale intertwined with the ever present supernatural elements of its universe, Feigelfeld’s film is rather the practical results of applying this folk tale to real people living in the era. The film lacks any supernatural elements, and every action that happens on screen, regardless of its wildness or gruesomeness, is not related to the supernatural in any way. Hagazussa is about a woman who is quite clearly unstable from the start, and her journey of losing her mind, which is probably the explanation for most cases of women accused of witchcraft at that time. The film also explores the effects of these accusations on the women themselves; Alexandra Cwen perfectly captures this in her performance, with subtle facial gestures and incredibly expressive eyes, offering the viewer a glimpse of Albrun’s significantly deteriorating mental state. Despite Albrun’s actions that get crazier by the minute, the film maintains its cold and sinister tone evenly throughout, this disconnect certainly heightens the horror, making for a very interesting and overall dark viewing experience. 

It is very hard to decide whether to recommend this movie or not, I absolutely loved it, but I admit I have a dangerously soft spot for cinematography; any film that has grand picturesque landscape shots or gorgeous naturally lit indoor scenes is absolutely worth watching for me, and Hagazussa certainly lives up to this standard and even surpasses it. The film is visually stunning, an absolute feast to look at, which combined with an eerie and minimalist soundtrack, completely mesmerized me. However, I can see why it wouldn’t appeal to a lot if viewers; the film is incredibly slow even for its rather short runtime, and with extremely sparse dialogue that can probably be summed up in less than ten minutes, this can obviously make it arduous to watch for a lot of people, and was certainly not ideal for me either. Additionally, the film is awfully dark, it takes some twists and turns that can put anyone at unease, mainly because it dismisses the supernatural element from the equation and allows all of the evils shown on screen to stem from human nature alone, also it leans on ambiguity and leaves a lot of room for interpretation, shying from a cathartic conclusion and allowing this darkness to stick around even after the film has ended. All in all, these were the highs and lows of this film for me; I would recommend it to anyone who liked The Witch and was looking for a story somewhat similar, but also to anyone who is willing to watch a non-traditional horror movie, with aesthetics that are miles above average.

Film Reviews

Film Review: The Witch (2015)

In 2015, Robert Eggers directorial debut The Witch premiered at Sundance Film Festival to wide critical acclaim. It was widely released a year afterwards, and although it garnered generally favorable reviews from the critics, audiences had a more negative response to it, mainly because the movie was marketed as a traditional horror movie, combining the very few jump scares and fantastical elements that are shown all throughout its runtime into one short trailer, which has proven time and time again to only set the viewer up for disappointment. However, The Witch is in fact a horror film, only it relies heavily on the general atmosphere, and inner conflicts of its characters to reach its premeditated and truly horrific climax.  

Set in 1630s New England, a family of Puritan settlers is cast away from their plantation due to the father’s arrogance. They move out to a secluded farm near the woods, where they presume their normal everyday roles. One day as the eldest daughter Thomasin (Anya- Taylor Joy) is watching her baby brother Samuel, the boy mysteriously vanishes. This leads to tension between the mother Katherine (Kate Dickie) and her husband William (Ralph Ineson), as she blames him for not baptizing the child, and according to their beliefs, his eternal damnation. Sam’s disappearance affects other members of the family as well; Thomasin is left to deal with the resentment of her mother, while the older brother Caleb (Harvey Scrimshaw) struggles with the idea of Sam’s damnation as well as his puberty and lustful thoughts about his sister. In the meantime, as almost all the family members are distraught and lost in their thoughts, the youngest members, the twins Mercy and Jonas, are talking of witches and speaking goats, and the evil forces that reside in the woods.

The film is presented as a New England Folk Tale, and it achieves that in every sense of the word. It does not aspire to be a modern day allegory; in fact it thrives in its accurate representation of the period it is set in. Eggers spent five years doing the research for his film, and the dedication and effort he poured into it show in every single frame of the movie; from the sets and costumes, to the old English dialect and the outlandish script. With its ultra-realistic representation of its characters, the film allows the viewer to tap into their mindset and fears, and ultimately understand their rationale for believing in the witch of the woods. Communicating with the devil in the form of a goat, destroying crops, and seducing men are all real accusations that were historically used against women of that period to prove they were witches, and viewed from our modern day perspective, they sound ludicrous as they can be scientifically explained with ease, yet in constructing an early 17th century farmer’s perspective on screen, it does not seem hard to understand why witches are a much simpler answer.   

Finally, this film is my favorite of the list of witch movies I put up for this series of articles. It is moody and chilling; its cinematography is mesmerizing and captures the vastness of the woods that encompasses the family farm. The soundtrack matches the tone of the film and the performances are all incredible, but above all the accuracy that goes into portraying what a witch was in the consciousness of the people who lived at the time, truly elevates this film to be a folk tale commemorated on screen forever.  

Film Reviews

Anime Witches

 In 2003, Hayao Miyazaki won an Academy Award for his animated feature Spirited Away. Despite the sad fact that only because of this recognition did the audience become interested in his work worldwide, the end result is favorable either way. People started to discover some of his earlier masterful works such as My Neighbor Totoro (1988), Princess Mononoke (1997) and so much more, and although almost all of his work is often described as magical, I’d like to focus on 2 of his films today that probably have Studio Ghibli’s most famous witch and wizard; Kiki and Howl.

Kiki’s Delivery Service (1989)

 Based on the 1985 children’s novel by the same name by Eiko Kadono, the movie follows the life of Kiki, cinema’s most adorable witch. The young 13 year old, accompanied by her black cat Jiji, sets off on a journey to settle in a new town, as is custom for witches her age. We follow her as she hops off into the sky on her broomstick, in search of a new home, and a way to achieve her independence. It’s a coming of age fairytale that values determination and perseverance, in a sort of “the beauty is in the journey itself” kind of way. There’s a lot to be said about Kiki, her zealous efforts to prove herself and make money on her own, whether by cleaning a bakery or starting a delivery service, are certainly admirable, and yet they raise the question of why is a flying witch not able to make money easily in the first place?

 In Kiki’s world, magic is taken for granted; the fast-paced rhythm of the city allows citizens only a few seconds of wonder when Kiki first flies in. Her delivery services are not always rewarding, as it doesn’t really matter if she’s delivering the packages on a broomstick or on foot, as long as the clients get their money’s worth. Later in the film when Kiki experiences burnout, it doesn’t come off as a shock, since her passion for flying has been sucked up entirely into her work. It’s only later on when she recluses to a friend’s cabin in the woods is she able to regain her powers, and ultimately a way to balance her love for flying, and her delivery service.

Howl’s Moving Castle (2004)

 Again based on a children’s novel by Diana Wynne Jones, Howl’s moving castle is about a young hatter named Sophie, who gets involved in a magical dispute between the old Witch of Waste and the young and charming wizard Howl. Early in the movie the witch casts a spell on Sophie that makes her age prematurely, and in an effort to break the curse, Sophie stumbles upon Howl’s moving castle. She takes the role of the housekeeper, and accompanies Howl, his young assistant Mrukuru, and the fire demon that keeps the castle moving Calcifer, as they try to escape the witch as well as the many wars ongoing around them.

 Unlike Kiki’s Delivery Service, which is a rather simple and direct story, Howl’s Moving Castle is filled to the brim with intricate subplots, and plenty of colorful characters. Its general and clear message is against war, and like real wars, the film doesn’t have a main evil character, instead everyone is somehow entangled in the war in spite of their acknowledgement of its absurdity. The bad guys become good, and the good guys become bad, and then they restore their order altogether. It is rather this ambivalence that gives the story its realistic charm despite all the magical elements. At its heart, it’s a love story of how the two main characters, Sophie and Howl, are able to grow and become better human beings through their shared love, and even at times change their world to the better.


Although both films are very different, they share major keys of Miyazaki’s philosophy; his love for nature and embrace of the spiritual and magical world is evident in the two, and they both leave plenty of room for interpretation by the audience. Kiki’s burnout could be allegorical with humans’ abandonment of nature for the hustle of the city, or an artist’s burnout when they turn their passion into a method of paying bills among tens of other explanations. Howl on the other hand has a much more grounded story due to its complexity, yet a lot of questions are left unanswered; such as the nature of Sophie’s spell, or whether Howl’s stance on war was coming from an honest opinion or simply cowardice. Both films offer a delightful take on witches and magic with mesmerizing visuals as well as deeply sympathetic characters and stories guaranteed to charm their viewers.

Film Reviews

Film Review: Suspiria (2018)

In 2015, Luca Guadagnino, director of Call me by your Name (2017) and I am Love (2009), announced that he was planning to shoot a remake of Dario Argento’s classic Italian horror Suspiria (1977). The announcement was met with mixed reviews, as Argento’s film is considered by many to be an untouchable cult classic, from its vibrant colors and elaborate sets, to its dream like quality and the chilling soundtrack that matches it perfectly. However it’s not very hard to see why a remake of the film can actually work; Argento’s focus on the lighting and general feel of the movie, denied its characters the backgrounds and story arcs they deserve, as noted by many critics before the film’s true strength lies in how the viewer experiences it or the general feeling it gives, rather than identifying with the characters on screen for example, this is exactly where Luca’s film steps in. I would recommend watching the original film first, just because of its extravagant visuals, yet this would not affect your understanding of Luca’s Suspiria significantly, as it introduces a completely different story maintaining only the premise of the original.

The film is set in 1977 Berlin, a time of political turmoil that pours into the movie as news of the Red Army Faction and other terrorist groups are heard over the radio all throughout the film. It opens with Patricia (Chloë Grace-Moretz), a young member of the Markos Dance Academy who appears to be having a nervous breakdown as she claims the academy is run by a coven of witches who wish to use her in some way; the statements are noted by her psychotherapist Dr. Josef Klemperer as delusions, and soon after, Patricia disappears. Although Patricia’s disappearance burdens some of the students in the school, it is a blessing to young American dancer Susie Bannion (Dakota Johnson), who gets accepted after taking Pat’s place. Susie is drawn to the school’s director Madame Blanc (Tilda Swinton), who shows reciprocates her interest, and later during Susie’s first dance, grants the young woman magical powers to harm another student in a different room. Susie’s magic-like ability soon catches the attention of the other matrons of the school, as they wish to offer her as a vessel to the dying founding mother Helena Markos. Madame Blanc objects to this sacrifice as she begins to question whether Susie is merely a helpless victim or something far more sinister.

Originally I planned to review the two versions of Suspiria in one article, yet it’s very difficult to write about Argento’s film in terms of how it perceives witches, which is the main reason why I’m writing this series of articles anyway. Argento’s film is a fairytale that encompasses only good and bad. The dancers are good, the witches are bad and therefore the dancers must destroy the evil witches. It is a classic view of the subject matter the shies away from exploring the nuances of good and evil, Luca does exactly that. The 2018 version of Suspiria not only fleshes out the characters of the original giving each its background and motives, it also explores the variety of women whether good or bad. The film operates in this grey area that matches its color scheme. It explores a coven of witches that like the outside world, is in a crisis of leadership without any clear cut points as to where the right decision lies.

Guadagnino’s film is enjoyable to watch, its dance elements and powerful performances along with the entrancing soundtrack by Thom Yorke, all force the viewer to sit quietly watching with eyes glued to the screen. Nevertheless it left me feeling as if it was somehow rushed, which is certainly odd since the film is two and a half hours long. Perhaps the movie promises more than it can deliver, as at its climax the story seems to fall flat, leaving s bitter taste in its viewer’s throat, or maybe it’s the way the film regards itself in complete seriousness, denying any room for the absurdity of the idea of a coven of witches in 1977 Berlin in the first place, something that Argento definitely touched upon in his film. I would still recommend the film, for the stellar performance of all members of its cast, for the dance, for the music etc. but I must still warn you to tread with caution, as the inside world of this coven may not appear as all it’s advertised to be.

Film Reviews

Film Review: Belladonna of Sadness (1973)

 Continuing with the X-rated, hard to find, outright bizarre witch movies, today’s review is about this forgotten Japanese anime from the 70s; Belladonna of Sadness. It was originally a part of a project called “animerama” by Mushi Productions; a trilogy of adult anime movies that ended with Belladonna, yet the movie was so odd at the time – still is – that it ended up leading the company to bankruptcy. It wasn’t until the movie’s digital restoration and release in 2016 that it garnered a part of the acclaim it deserves.

 The story is set in Medieval France, where Jeanne and Jean, a young loving couple, are just married, yet their happiness is cut short when they fail to pay the local Baron their wedding tax. In an evil twist of events, the Baron’s wife suggests that the bride gets raped by the court members in exchange for the tax, an ordeal that is explicitly shown on screen in its entirety. Jeanne then returns to her home, broken and defeated where she’s met by her equally helpless, not very supportive husband who later simply abandons his wife and goes to sleep. As Jean sleeps, Jeanne encounters an odd phallic shaped spirit that offers to help her with her revenge on the Baron; in return she must accept his demonic sexual advances willingly.

 The spirit plainly admits to Jeanne, when it’s first introduced, “I am you”, ushering the self-actualization sexual fantasy that follows all throughout the movie. It is very difficult not to notice the feminist undertones of the film, granted that they are delivered with a lot of nuance and sensitivity. Belladonna draws from both the ideas of its time as well as Japanese culture to draw a picture of women liberation through embracing their own sexuality, it’s true that the devil in the movie can still be viewed as a male character taking advantage of Jeanne, yet it’s Jeanne’s own consent that allows it to happen, and ultimately provides her with ever growing powers. However, it’s Jeanne’s lust for power that eventually leads to her demise, an event that still seems crucial to enlighten the women of her village. In a sense, Jeanne was bound to fall to ignite the rise of her peers.

  Belladonna of Sadness is an eccentric, wild ride that is probably unlike anything you’ve ever seen. It’s true that the makers of the film might have bitten more than they could chew, as the hyper-sexual and at times psychedelic imagery of the film can turn it into one big messy spectacle, yet the beautifully illustrated water-colored scenes of the film can repent for any extravagance otherwise allowed. The film in fact uses very few animated sequences focusing instead on stills with the camera panning over them, allowing the viewer enough time to appreciate the beauty of these sketches. I full-heartedly recommend watching this movie yet I must warn you of two major issues; first is that as I mentioned it’s a highly erotic picture, so if you’re easily offended by that then perhaps skip the film altogether, and second is that it has a flashing light sequence that can trigger seizures for viewers with epilepsy, something that people in the seventies definitely did not care about as there are no warnings whatsoever. If you have no problems with the aforementioned points, then I cannot recommend this enough, even if only for the art and the groovy psychedelic soundtrack that matches its beauty.    

Film Reviews

Film Review: The Devils (1971)

In making the list of films to watch for this week’s theme, I came across a rather odd one from 1971, Ken Russell’s “The Devils”, a film which has been banned from, well,  almost everywhere, and with due reason. It is an extremely controversial, politically charged piece of work that is guaranteed to garner the fury of the church if ever widely released, even today. Much like Rosemary’s Baby, The Devils came in a time of panic of satanic worshippers, but something else influenced the making of the film; that is the Northern Ireland Conflicts between the Catholics and the Protestants that were ever escalating at the time.

Based on Aldous Huxley’s novel “The Devils of Loudun”, which in itself is based on the true witchcraft trials that took place in the same French city in the early 17th century, Russell tells the story of the priest who was the center of these trials, Father Grandier (Oliver Reed), a powerful man of the church who seems to be practically running the town. The story follows his clash with the state represented in both the flamboyant, transvestite king (Graham Armitage), and the cunning clergyman Cardinal Richelieu (Christopher Logue), the latter being bent on destroying the walls of Loudun in an effort to solidify the central power of the state, and to eliminate any sort of independence within it. As simple as that political storyline might be, it is rather complicated by the surrounding circumstances of the time. A raving war between the Catholics and the Protestants is going on, amidst a much bigger threat of the plague that certainly does not differentiate between the two.

As the story progresses, we are introduced to Sister Jeanne des Anges (Vanessa Redgrave), an extremely sexually frustrated nun who is rather infatuated by Grandier; fantasizing about him constantly, and ending up punishing herself for it. The meek and rather demented nun, along with the other sisters of the convent are later – unsurprisingly – used to frame Father Grandier as a witch communicating with the devil and possessing these nuns, in an effort to eliminate him as a political opponent of the state, in which they eventually succeed.

When I first watched this, I had absolutely no idea where to start writing about it, and since it was my first time watching a Ken Russell movie, a man who has persistently garnered himself the reputation of a provocateur, I was ill-prepared to say the least. The film’s absurdly shocking imagery can paralyze its viewer from thinking of its significance, and believe me it is shocking indeed. Yet if you look past the macabre and scandalous spectacle, The Devils is an explosive piece of art that is all sorts impressive. A lot of the themes explored are still completely relevant today, the strongest of which being the oppression of the women of the church by incredibly deviant clergymen. Simply check the allegations of abuse by the church –and boy, are they plenty! -and you will find the nuns were definitely not spared. Also as stated by Russell in a later interview, The Devils explores the conflict between the state and the individual, most of which are won in favor of the state of course. Grandier’s witchcraft trial is nothing but a front to eliminate the man as a political opponent altogether, a claim of fighting immortal powers of evil to make a very mortal gain,    much like many other witchcraft trials in history that were motivated by greedy desires to possess the accused’s land or wealth.  

One final aspect to explore in The Devils is the making of the film itself. Although it is set in the 17th century, it was Russell’s clear intentions to give the film a contemporary, even surreal feel. The Setting is extremely modern, and the entire city is colored in white. The exorcist alone looks like he could’ve been a lost member of The Beatles. All of which give the film a relevance that transcends its centuries’ old story. I believe that if The Devils was to be released today, it would be met with both statements of eternal damnation from the church, and well founded critical acclaim from its audience.

Film Reviews

Film Review: Rosemary’s Baby (1968)

Disclaimer: Spoilers ahead, but I bet you already know them.

If you think of horror movies, one of the very first to pop in your head would probably be Rosemary’s Baby. This 60’s classic was based on Ira Levin’s 1967 horror novel. It was released at a time where fears of Satan worshippers, and the decline of traditional morals in pop culture were growing fast amidst the ever weakening grip of the Catholic Church, but beyond its horror elements, the film is a fine study of the changing roles of men and women in this era of sexual revolution, and the conflicts and struggles that came with it whether internal or external.

The film follows the newlywed couple Rosemary (Mia Farrow) the meek and childish housewife, and her husband, an aspiring young actor aptly named Guy (John Cassavetes), as they move into a new apartment at ‘the Bramford’ an old and brooding gothic building in New York. As the couple begins to build a home out of their new apartment they are bombarded by the unexpected and invasive visits of their nosy elderly neighbors; Minnie (Ruth Gordon) and Roman Castevet (Sidney Blackmer), who show great interest when Rosemary admits that the young couple are trying to have a baby and start a family. Although Rosemary appears to be uncomfortable by her neighbors’ intrusions, her husband seems to take a liking to them and gladly welcomes their demonic interference in the couple’s lives.

It was Polanski’s choice to minimize the fantasy elements in the film and to seek a much more realistic approach in telling the story. Almost all of the elements of satanic cults or witchcraft are shown in dream sequences or off screen, which along with the fact that the entire movie is shot from Rosemary’s point of view helps intensify the paranoia of the main character and tap into her fear of someone harming her unborn child. Nevertheless as we join Rosemary during her pregnancy, we realize that her paranoia does not entirely stem from within herself, but is rather enforced by everyone around her. Her husband dismisses her disliking of their intrusive neighbors; her neighbors themselves consider themselves more knowledgeable of her best interest during the pregnancy, and even her doctor dismisses any medical complaints or worries she expresses to him about her child.

Rosemary’s Baby doesn’t simply explore demons or witchcraft, or women falling into madness, it rather explores the factors that lead these women to such madness. It could be interpreted as an analogy to society’s continuous efforts to deprive women of their own agency, much of which still resonates with today’s society. Guy carefully distances his wife from her friends and exerts control over her every choice, the old ladies living next door more or less control her diet during the pregnancy, and her doctor quite plainly forbids her from reading pregnancy books. Every action that Rosemary takes out of her own free will is frowned upon, even if it’s a simple haircut. This only makes her final decision in the movie to take care of the baby much more interesting, as it’s left to the viewer to decide whether this was Rosemary’s only free willed action, or simply a result of the brainwashing and manipulation she has endured all throughout the film.