By 1991, horror had already given us just about every cursed pregnancy imaginable: demon spawn, mutant spawn, or just a spawn that cried so much you wished it was demon-mutant. Into this proud tradition waddled The Unborn, a Roger Corman–produced slice of science fiction horror directed by Rodman Flender. Marketed as “Rosemary’s Baby for the IVF generation,” it’s part medical paranoia, part creature feature, part comedy—though the comedy is mostly unintentional. And yet, somehow, it works. Not brilliantly, not even particularly well, but it works in that pulpy, straight-to-video, late-night cable slot sort of way.
Pregnancy Horror: Because Morning Sickness Wasn’t Scary Enough
Virginia Marshall (played by Brooke Adams, bringing surprising gravity to material that does not deserve it) is a woman desperate to conceive. Her husband Brad (Jeff Hayenga) is supportive in that faintly 1990s, beige-sweater way. They sign up for an experimental in-vitro program with Dr. Richard Meyerling (James Karen), who is either a visionary geneticist or a mad scientist with a fetish for lab coats. Spoiler: it’s the second one.
Soon enough, Virginia is pregnant—and with it comes the creeping realization that her unborn child might not be a child at all, but something more sinister. This is where the film leans into its horror DNA: the mood owes everything to Rosemary’s Baby, the body horror echoes The Fly, and yet The Unborn has its own campy little rhythm.
Virginia isn’t just glowing with maternal radiance; she’s glowing like a Chernobyl reactor. Her cravings aren’t for pickles and ice cream—they’re for weird, vaguely alien impulses. And when she starts suspecting that her OB-GYN has more in mind than safe delivery, we’re right there with her.
Brooke Adams: Classing Up the Goo
It’s not overstating things to say that Brooke Adams is the MVP of The Unborn. This is the same actress who brought heartbreak to Days of Heaven and terror to Invasion of the Body Snatchers. She has no business being this good in a movie that, at one point, features mutant baby special effects that look like rejected Muppet prototypes.
But she grounds it. Adams sells Virginia’s desperation to be a mother, her vulnerability when she begins to suspect something’s wrong, and her sheer rage when she realizes she’s been reduced to a science project. She even makes the more absurd set-pieces—like being stalked by her own unborn child in utero—feel vaguely credible.
In other words, she’s acting her heart out while the movie around her is basically whispering, “Look, we spent all our money on goo and rubber prosthetics, just roll with it.”
James Karen: The Kindly Mad Scientist
Every horror film needs a villain, and The Unborn gifts us Dr. Meyerling, played by James Karen. You know him—the guy who was constantly playing charming yet sinister authority figures in the ’80s and ’90s. Here, he straddles the line between medical pioneer and full-blown Mengele cosplay.
Karen delivers every line with a warm, avuncular twinkle that makes his descent into madness both hilarious and unsettling. When he reassures Virginia that “everything is perfectly normal,” you know damn well nothing is normal, least of all his eyebrow game.
The Supporting Cast: Before They Were Stars
Because this is a Corman production, you get blink-and-you’ll-miss-it cameos from future stars. Lisa Kudrow shows up as a patient in the fertility program, clearly rehearsing for the day when Phoebe Buffay would sing about smelly cats. Kathy Griffin wanders through a scene like she’s already on her way to a comedy set. It’s a little surreal, watching future A-listers orbit a mutant-baby movie, but hey, everybody’s gotta start somewhere.
Science Fiction or After-School Special?
Part of the charm (and absurdity) of The Unborn is how seriously it takes its premise. On one hand, it’s about the horrors of unchecked science and the ethical quagmire of reproductive technology. On the other, it’s about a woman screaming at her belly while the soundtrack throbs like a heart monitor possessed by Satan.
Director Rodman Flender himself admitted he saw it as “Rosemary’s Baby meets The Fly,” which is both accurate and a generous way of saying “we glued two VHS tapes together and hoped for the best.” Still, you can see the ambition: there are flashes of genuine atmosphere, moments of unsettling body horror, and a commitment to making the audience squirm about the very idea of pregnancy.
And then a rubber baby puppet waddles into frame and you laugh so hard you forget you’re supposed to be unsettled.
The Special Effects: Baby on a Budget
No review of The Unborn would be complete without mentioning the special effects. Remember, this was shot for peanuts under Corman’s watch, and the creature effects had about as much subtlety as a sledgehammer.
When Virginia’s pregnancy complications start manifesting, we get goo, claws, and the occasional mutant fetus effect that looks like it came from the Tales from the Crypt prop closet. It’s not scary—it’s surreal. Imagine if Jim Henson’s Creature Shop went rogue and tried to remake It’s Alive. That’s the vibe.
But in a weird way, it adds to the film’s cult appeal. This isn’t glossy Hollywood horror—it’s scrappy, scrungy, and charming in its own gross little way.
Dark Humor Highlights
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The raven in Scissors had more dignity than this baby puppet.
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The fertility clinic looks less like a hospital and more like a Bond villain’s Airbnb.
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Virginia’s husband Brad is so useless he makes Guy Woodhouse (Rosemary’s Baby) look like Father of the Year.
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At one point, you realize the unborn child is basically plotting from inside the womb, and the movie plays it straight.
Why It Works Anyway
Here’s the thing: The Unborn should be unwatchable. The plot is derivative, the budget is thin, and the effects are ridiculous. And yet, it has a weird magnetism. Part of it is Brooke Adams, elevating everything around her. Part of it is James Karen, chewing the scenery like it’s his last supper. And part of it is the sheer audacity of the concept: taking something as intimate and human as wanting a child, and twisting it into sci-fi body horror.
It’s gross. It’s silly. It’s uneven. But it’s also never boring. And in horror, “never boring” counts for a lot.
Final Verdict
The Unborn is the kind of movie you stumble across at 2 a.m. on cable, convinced you dreamed it until you see it again ten years later in a bargain bin. It’s schlock, but schlock with conviction. Brooke Adams deserves a medal for playing it like Shakespeare. James Karen deserves a round of applause for making evil medicine men both charming and creepy. And the mutant baby deserves… well, maybe just a nap.
