'Rosemary's Baby' Prequel 'Apartment 7A' Gives Agency to the Woman We Hardly Knew [Fantastic Fest Review]

​(Note: I recommend watching 'Rosemary’s Baby' before reading this review, as there are spoilers. You’ve been warned!)
 
Based on an even better novel from author Ira Levin (The Stepford Wives), Rosemary’s Baby unleashed on an un-expecting audience in 1968, shocking the world with a satanic tale about a woman who gives birth to the anti-christ. For over fifty years, it has remained a relevant piece of horror cinema due to its insight into the terror of women’s reproductive healthcare and a society that dismisses their autonomy over their own bodies. All these decades later and following the overturning of Roe, the issue is still just as prevalent, making now as good of a time for a prequel as any. Enter filmmaker Natalie Erika James and Apartment 7A (having just played at Fantastic Fest), which tells the story of a character from Rosemary’s Baby that we hardly got to know. Hot off her debut feature, Relic, James proves why she was an excellent choice to take on such a daunting task, delivering a tragic yet powerful prequel that gives agency to “the girl who fell”.
 
Terry Gionoffrio (Julia Garner) is a dancer with big dreams of seeing her name on Broadway. But when an on-stage accident leaves her ankle damaged, she finds herself willing to do just about anything for another chance. Circumstances lead her to the care of Minnie Castevet (Dianne Wiest) and her husband, Roman (Kevin McNally), an odd couple who take her in and even let her stay in an apartment they own, free of charge. It seems too good to be true, but Terry needs this, especially with the pair offering to introduce her to famous Broadway director, Alan Marchand (Jim Sturgess). One thing leads to another, and Terry ends up in Alan’s bed, unable to remember the night before outside of a terrifying dream involving a demonic creature. Soon, she discovers she’s pregnant with a baby that could destroy her career, and perhaps, the world.
 
You may remember Terry Gionoffrio from her brief appearance in Rosemary’s Baby as the woman Rosemary meets in the laundry room. Maybe you recall her simply as the girl who fell from a window and met her demise…leading to the meeting of Rosemary and the Castevet’s. In Apartment 7A, Terry is granted the infamous title of “the girl who fell” during a live performance. But as Natalie Erika James and Julia Garner (in a mesmerizing performance) aim to point out, Terry is so much more than her nickname. She is a fighter. A woman who refuses to humiliate herself for success, as she displays again and again. In the moment we meet her, James keeps the camera centered on Garner, the actress gazing back and daring us to deny her power. It’s as if she’s staring across time, demanding that we see her. Her talent. Her strength. Her humanity. With Apartment 7A, James lifts this forgotten character into the light to scream her name and insist we recognize her as the woman, the human being, that she was.

​Apartment 7A joins the likes of this year’s Immaculate or The First Omen as a furious response to the way so-called pro-lifers and the overturning of Roe have taken agency from women. Rosemary’s Baby already explored the paranoid horror of a society that refuses to listen to women when it comes to their healthcare, so, while the events of this story may feel familiar, James, along with writers Christian White and Skylar James, are wise to take a different thematic approach this time around. Here, the terror arises from Terry’s belief that she has been drugged and raped by Marchand. Whereas Rosemary wanted her baby, Terry sees it as a threat to the career she has barely begun. Set in the 60s before Roe was established, we’re given a front-row seat to the horror that comes with abortions being illegal. Temptations to drink bleach. Back-alley abortions. Frightening images of demonic hands on Terry’s body strike at the violation of her rape and the constant reminder of that growing in her belly. Rather than paranoid suspense, this prequel is more interested in grabbing the viewer by the face and making them see what forcing a woman to carry an unwanted pregnancy does to her, both psychologically and physically.
 
All that’s weighing Apartment 7A down are the constraints that come with most prequels. We know how this story goes. How it ends. There aren’t many surprises. But that’s okay, because James’ latest is about the journey that led to Terry’s tragic plummet. Sets and the time period are recreated with care. Wiest and McNally are pitch perfect in stepping in for Ruth Gordon and Sidney Blackmer, respectively (Wiest especially shines as a woman who doesn’t take no for an answer). All great. Yet it’s Garner’s utterly captivating performance and James’ thematic approach that make this prequel worthwhile. Some will ask why we needed this prequel. Why do we care about Terry Gionoffrio? I’d argue that response is exactly the point James is trying to make. Everywhere in the U.S., there are once again women like Terry whose name we will never know, experiencing terror no one should ever have to realize. Apartment 7A says no woman’s story in these situations should go unheard, or name unknown. Consider it a stark reminder of how badly our society has let women down.
 
Well-crafted. Beautifully performed. Painfully tragic. Apartment 7A may not expand much on the lore or offer many surprises, but what it does do is give back agency to that “girl who fell” yet who was so much more than that. She was a dancer. A dreamer. James’ film is a humanizing tribute to Terry and every other woman that has had their humanity stripped away by a society that sees them only as a mother. That is why this prequel exists.

Apartment 7A arrives on Paramount+ September 27th. 

By Matt Konopka