Mad Classic "Ha-rah"
True confession: I don't like Halloween. I don't like all the creepazoid decorations. I get tired of orange and black (and purple and green....) And I don't do scary movies. Not so much. And if it were up to me, we'd be the horrifying door to knock because we'd be handing out pencils and balloons.
If there were a Hallow's Eve Ebenezer Scrooge, that would be me.
And so on October 31, when there's a Friday the 13th marathon running on television, I'll quietly slip into bed without a blink of an eye. Cornball slasher or not, I hate suspense and I really hate gore-y suspense.
But there is one classic horror movie I'll watch. Only one: Rosemary's Baby.
I love this movie for all of the visual loveliness.
Filmed in 1968, the style, the colors, and the acting aren't so much kitsch as they are real and gritty.
It's New York City. It's The Dakota.
It's Mia Farrow, John Cassavetes,
and the ever-eccentric Ruth Gordon.
And I love this movie for the portrayal of isolation, conspiracy, and paranoia with a helpless and pregnant Rosemary Woodhouse in the midst of a hot, summery metropolis on the Upper East side.
If you choose to watch a movie in the spirit of this Halloween, I implore you to be stunned by the creepy but glorious Rosemary's Baby.