Look What's Happened to Rosemary's Baby
Nothing good, that's what.
I briefly considered writing nothing but "fuck you, movie" but I'm afraid that if I were to do that then the two people who read my blog might actually consider watching this monstrosity to see what provoked that reaction, so this is less of a review and more of a warning. Don't watch this movie. It's not entertainingly bad, it's just depressingly bad.
Remember when Tommy Lee Jones won the Oscar for The Fugitive and everybody on the planet loved him for 10 minutes and then he starred in the sequel U.S. Marshals and he learned the hard way that he was no longer America's sweetheart? Well he had it much, much easier than poor Ruth Gordon, reprising her Oscar-winning role of Minnie Castevet here. This was a made-for-TV sequel that completely squanders any goodwill generated by love of the original. It's clumsy, ugly, pointless, and dumber than the proverbial bag of hammers. Gordon is completely wasted, as are Ray Milland, Broderick Crawford, Patty Duke, and a host of other people that you'd think would've had better agents.
The only person who comes out of this relatively unscathed is Stephen McHattie, who plays Adrian, son of Rosemary (side note: Ira Levin, who wrote the novel Rosemary's Baby also penned a sequel of his own many years after this called Son of Rosemary, and it's just as execrable as this. Maybe some things just don't need sequels, eh?). McHattie has a certain lizardy presence that you'd expect from the son of Satan, but he rarely gets an opportunity to exhibit it.
There's an ill-conceived musical number (no, really) toward the third act that is clearly trying to be shocking but just comes off as unbearably silly. It's all just a nonsensical mess that never even manages to cross the line into interesting-bad. This is the worst movie I've seen so far this month by a wide margin. In fact, it's the worst movie I've seen so far this year. Shameful, and rightfully forgotten.
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