Some
movies just get everything right. Ira
Levin’s supernatural best-seller was a
highly effective page-turner. But once Hollywood got its paws on the property , there was no
reason to think it would turn out to be anything but another paint-by-number
horror flick, formulaic and disposable. And
word of art-house director Roman Polanski’s involvement didn’t necessarily inspire optimism in 1968. Because the rancid
odour of his horror-comedy fiasco “The Fearless Vampire Killers ...” was still very
much in the air. As things turned out,
though, Polanski not only bonded with the material but elevated it. Integrating and harmonizing every
technical element to create a remarkably sustained atmosphere, horror seep-seep- seeping into the everyday The finished film landed a much-deserved Oscar nomination for adapted screenplay. But if ever a picture was tightly organized for taut, prolonged suspense and maximum audience investment, this is it. It’s
still hard to believe there was no nomination for editing.
And
of course the casting was superb. I’ll
never understand Mia Farrow’s absence from the list of Best Actress nominees
that year. It’s a star-making turn in a critically lauded box-office smash. She’s
in virtually every scene – and brilliant from start to finish. An absolute rallying
point for audience interest and sympathy. It’s stunning to watch Farrow expertly
manage and unmanage her character’s growing hysteria. Everybody was talking about it in ‘68. And yet
no Oscar nomination? Farrow even won the
Golden Globe that year. Still, the lack of Academy recognition detracts not a
whit from her accomplishment here. The creation of an iconic movie heroine, memorably
vulnerable and infinitely tenacious. It’s terrific work!
But
the supporting cast is spot-on too. No one more so than Ruth Gordon as
Rosemary’s flamboyant neighbour Minnie Castavet. Over seventy when she filmed “Rosemary”,
Gordon had , till then, made very few films. She was, however, a show-business
insider, with an awesome resume that dated back over half a century. Aside from
a long career as a top-tier stage actress (with an impressive range - a
celebrated Nora in Ibsen’s “A Doll’s
House”, she’d also mowed ‘em dead on Broadway with her uniquely off-kilter comedy style). But that wasn’t all. Gordon was a
successful playwright too. “Years Ago” - about her own beginnings in the theater -
was filmed (charmingly) by George
Cukor as “The Actress” . Starring Jean
Simmons , (good -if nothing like Gordon
-but then,who was?) and Spencer Tracy,
sensational as her father. When Gordon married writer/director Garson Kanin it solidified her status as a high-profiler in Hollywood. Among other things, the two
co-wrote a couple of the celebrated Tracy-Hepburn films. Ruth Gordon was respected and well-liked
within the Hollywood community. And when she turned up onscreen – for the first
time in decades – in 1965, she’d accumulated so much good will within the
industry , she wound up with a surprise Oscar nomination for her small role in “Inside Daisy Clover”. Even though the picture was one of the 60’s prime
stinkers. Reviews were savage (though Gordon
was generally spared) and the picture was a notorious box-office disaster. Maybe Academy voters felt this might be their
last chance to honor Gordon’s unique art. It wasn’t. “Rosemary’s Baby” gave her the screen showcase she’d never had. And she
ran with it. Or, rather, sashayed. Becoming, for the next several years at
least, an honest-to-goodness movie star with vehicles tailored to her own
delightfully specific characteristics.
The
voice was certainly one of the key elements in Ruth Gordon’s singularity. And
she definitely uses it to full and fabulous effect in “Rosemary’s Baby”. That not-quite-placeable accent (sort of
Boston by way of the Bronx). Eloquently uncouth. The expression “laid on with trowel” is
usually meant as criticism. But when Gordon spreads her words around, she
makes that trowel a precision instrument. Gordon delivers Minnie’s dialogue
(and there’s lots of it) in a manner
that can perhaps be described as
pointedly matter-of-fact. She’ll keep
knocking on your door till she gets an answer. We first hear the voice through Rosemary’s bedroom
wall . “Roman, bring me some root beer when ya come!” Then she’s briefly talked
about (by Terry {a terrific Angela
Dorian aka Victoria Vetri} in the unsettling laundry room scene).
Our
first actual sighting is pretty unforgettable, as she and hubby loom into view
on the sidewalk, garishly inappropriate
visitants at a curbside death scene. Minnie’s in one of her crackpot coloring book
get-ups, a saucy pile of (what? Duck feathers?) on her head. Beside her – even in red trousers and pink
jacket – Roman seems subdued by
comparison. But then, the picture continually has us speculating about how
these mismatched salt and pepper shakers ever got together in the first place.
Roman, with his fulsome urbanity and Minnie , forever the crass
tenement parrot. When asked to describe Minnie, the first word
that occurs to Rosemary is ‘nosy”. And
Ruth Gordon certainly seizes on that quality. It’s a marvellously invasive
piece of work ; she raises snooping to
symphonic levels. Forever barging , oozing through doors, prying, sneaking in
plain sight, touching things that aren’t hers.
She moves in a series of presumptuous lunges, really putting those
shoulders into her performance. Yet jaunty, always jaunty. That word is hard to avoid when
describing Gordon’s Minnie. Certainly it’s a word that fits her speech patterns like a glove. A Ruth Gordon spesh-ee-ality, just like Minnie’s chocolate mouse. There’s simply no one like her. And she’s
brilliant at keeping up a steady stream
of inane/insane comments. As she focuses
her real attention everywhere else. Constantly reconnoitering, endlessly sizing
up every aspect of Rosemary’s life and surroundings. Calculating, calculating, calculating.
She stops just short of whipping out a tape measure. That’s the key to Gordon’s Minnie. That dog-eared banter of hers is
always a smokescreen to cover her real agenda. The phrase “the banality of evil”
inevitably comes to mind. And yet, as insistently insipid as Minnie’s chit-chat is, there’s
nothing banal about the artistry Gordon employs to make it all memorable. Everything Minnie says is an entertainingly
sinister bit of misdirection. And she’s so good at
insinuating herself where she’s not invited that we feel real relief and admiration
– even amazement – when Rosemary actually manages to bar Minnie from
her party – the one that’s “very special ...you have to be under 60
to get in”.
“Rosemary”
was, of course, a massive hit. And Gordon’s performance was an out-of-left
field smash with the public. Aside from an Oscar, it got her a whole new screen
career as an unlikely but much admired leading lady – her late-in-the-day movie
stardom a direct result of that cinematic home-run in “Rosemary’s
Baby”. It’s certainly work that stands up. Once you’ve seen this performance, somewhere
in your mind, Minnie’s going to keep on poking, prodding and prowling. Forever.
And I’m good with that.
For more on Ruth Gordon’s work in “Rosemary’s Baby” (and
the other nominated performances from 1968), make sure you check out the next
Supporting Actress Smackdown (October 30th) at thefilmexperience.net.
As always, it's sure to be fun.
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