From Cult Classic to Cult Catastrophe
The original Rosemary’s Baby was a masterclass in psychological horror. This made-for-TV sequel, on the other hand, is like finding out your favorite gourmet restaurant is now serving microwaved burritos out of a gas station. The tension, the subtlety, the creeping dread—gone. In their place: a three-part mini-slog featuring bad wigs, nonsensical plot jumps, and enough overacting to qualify as a possession in itself.
The Book of Rosemary: Kidnapping by Magic Bus
The opening picks up with eight-year-old Adrian—Rosemary’s infamous offspring—vanishing from his room. Rosemary spirits him away to a synagogue (because nothing says “safe haven” like dropping in on unsuspecting rabbis). Things escalate into a bizarre kidnapping scene involving a prostitute named Marjean, a self-driving bus, and Rosemary’s abrupt disappearance. It’s supposed to be unsettling, but mostly it feels like someone spliced together a Columbo B-plot and a bad “don’t talk to strangers” PSA.
The Book of Adrian: Devil Disco Disaster
Flash forward twenty years, and Adrian is now a grown man with the personality of a soap opera extra and the moral compass of a fog machine. He’s lured into a bizarre casino birthday party, drugged by Ruth Gordon’s Minnie Castevet, and painted up like a low-rent Vegas Satan. The cult’s plan? Apparently to have him boogie on the dance floor until Satan takes over everyone. It’s less “nightmarish ritual” and more “Studio 54 after too many cocktails.”
The Book of Andrew: Antichrist on the Run
Adrian wakes up with amnesia, insists his name is Andrew, and ends up on the run with Ellen, a nurse who oozes red flags. Naturally, she turns out to be a cult plant, drugs him, and rapes him—because this script clearly believes the Devil’s child can’t have a normal dating life. Guy Woodhouse reappears just long enough to get killed in a car crash, Ellen miraculously survives, and the movie sets up the next generation of Antichrist shenanigans with the enthusiasm of someone mailing in their last two weeks’ notice.
Star Power, Wasted
Patty Duke, Ray Milland, and Ruth Gordon deserve better than this cobbled-together sequel. Stephen McHattie spends most of the film looking either dazed or irritated (which, to be fair, is probably method acting at this point). Tina Louise as Marjean is pure camp, but not enough to salvage anything. By the end, you’re left with the realization that everyone involved probably said yes to the paycheck first and read the script later.
Final Verdict: Hell Hath No Fury Like a TV Budget
Look What’s Happened to Rosemary’s Baby is a cautionary tale about what happens when you take a tense, artful horror story and feed it through the meat grinder of network television. What was once chilling is now cheesy, and the Antichrist’s grand legacy boils down to awkward parties, plot holes, and a cliffhanger no one wanted resolved. Satan should sue for defamation.
