‘Apartment 7A’ review: Julia Garner leads a suitably savage ‘Rosemary’s Baby’ prequel

By rights, a prequel to Rosemary’s Baby should be an unholy abomination, offensive to the lovers of horror. Not only is Roman Polanski’s seminal 1968 film iconic and beloved by critics, audiences, and the Academy Awards (which honored Ruth Gordon with a very rare Best Supporting win in a horror movie), but also, a prequel to a a 56-year-old horror classic seems destined to be a grubby cash grab. And yet, Natalie Erika James has done the impossible with Apartment 7A, delivering a horror gem that shines without detracting from its inspiration point.  

Beginning months before Rosemary Woodhouse moves into Manhattan’s infamous Bramford apartments, Apartment 7A follows Terry Gionoffrio (Julia Garner), who was only a minor figure in Rosemary’s Baby. Some might scoff that this story echoes Rosemary’s in some ways, including the suffocating attention and manipulation from the nosy Castevets next door (played here by Dianne Wiest and Kevin McNally). But the screenplay by Natalie Erika James, Skylar James, and Christian White manages to weave similar beats and familiar figures together with distinctive demonic dazzle and a sharp difference in their heroine’s wants.

A fantastic follow-up to James’ scary-as-hell feature directorial debut, Relic, Apartment 7A is an exhilaratingly frightening tale of ambition, betrayal, and bodily autonomy that fits slyly with its source material, yet makes a timely statement all its own.

How does Apartment 7A fit into Rosemary’s Baby?

In the original film, Terry Gionoffrio has a single scene with Rosemary, in which the two bond while doing laundry in the creepy basement of the Bramford. Friendly Terry tells her new neighbor that she lives with Roman and Minnie Castevet, who took her in off the street. “I was starving and on dope,” Terry confesses, adding, “I’d be dead now if it wasn’t for them…dead or in jail.” She also shares a look at her strange-smelling necklace, a good luck gift from Minnie.

Apartment 7A fleshes Terry’s story, detailing who she was before tumbling onto the Bramford’s sidewalk and what became of her between her intro in Rosemary’s Baby and her dramatic exit. Terry was a dancer on the brink of breaking out when she suffered an ankle injury that pushed her to drugs to deal with the pain and made her infamous among New York City’s theater community. Desperate for her luck to change, Terry is easily wooed by the kindness of the Castevets, who offer her a free room and a private meeting with their theater producer neighbor Alan Marchand (Jim Sturgess). They even get her homemade medical polstices from their next-door neighbor Mrs. Gardenia (Tina Gray).

Yes, Rosemary’s Baby fans, the Mrs. Gardenia whose apartment Rosemary and Guy move into at the start of their movie.

Apartment 7A connects to but is not confined by Rosemary’s Baby.

While James stays true to some plot points to keep the classic canon intact, she makes some standout changes. For instance, while Rosemary comes into the laundry room in this prequel, the scene from the original is not recreated. It’s not even similar; in Apartment 7A, the costumes and Terry’s hair don’t match that 1968-shot scene. This suggests James is embracing how Terry’s perspective might shift the appearance of things, including fashion and which moments matter to her. While their meeting might have been a pivotal moment for Rosemary, for Terry, it just wasn’t — she had bigger things on her mind by then.

More fascinating is how James depicts Terry’s dark night with the devil. As Terry’s brain is rich with imagery from musicals, her drug-induced vision of those violating events runs like a stage production. The Bramford is transformed into a 2-dimensional stage set, a dashing Marchand leads her in a waltz, and finally a demon — bedecked in sparkling sequins — crawls upon her supine body.

I’ve been saying horror movies need more song-and-dance numbers, and Apartment 7A has arrived to prove my point! This is scary and spectacular, glittery and gruesome. Sincerely, James has taken the somberly horrifying story of manipulation, bodily violation, and betrayal from the source material, but made it her own with a passion for musical theater.

Apartment 7A not only infuses Terry’s love of theatrical spectacle into her nightmares, but also into her motivation. So when she discovers she’s pregnant, a baby is not a gift much coveted — like it was for Rosemary — it’s an obstacle to carving out her career. Set in a time where abortion was not a legalized form of healthcare, this pushes Terry — with the support of her dear friend Annie (Marli Siu) — to a back-alley abortionist, resulting in a scene that is horrifying on many levels.

Julia Garner is extraordinary in Apartment 7A.

It must be incredibly intimidating to walk in the shoes of Mia Farrow, specifically one her most iconic roles. But Garner seems unshaken. Perhaps because her Terry is brasher and more openly defiant to Minnie’s intrusions. Perhaps because being batted around by snaking chorus girls and cruel casting directors — as one truly painful scene makes clear — has hardened her.

Watching Garner grit her teeth, then throw on a smile to perform for the cold hearts of New York City, is not only bracingly entrancing, it also makes me wish those reports of her playing Madonna in a could-be biopic will pan out. Garner has got it, meaning a combination of screen presence and grit that makes her instantly recognizable as a force to be reckoned with. And that’s exhilarating to see in this scenario, where we know damn well what she’s up against. Rosemary couldn’t beat them, but could Terry possibly find a way out of the wicked labyrinth that is the Bramford?

With Relic, Natalie Erika James spun an intimate tale of mother-daughter relationships and family curses into a rivetingly scary thriller. Here, she uses that gift of emotional intelligence and skill for crafting unsettling scenes to tell a story that’s familiar yet all the more frightening for it. We know where Terry’s story will end because of Rosemary’s Baby. Yet James keeps us at the edge of our seats as she expertly spins a web of rich drama and sly horror, working in heartfelt conversations, shattering jump scares, and defiant dazzle. From Polanski’s foundation, she builds a glittering tale of girlhood stolen that is sick, stunning, and horrifyingly relevant.

Apartment 7A comes to on-demand and Paramount+ on Sept. 27.