The Horror Icon Who Spooked Himself: William Castle and Rosemary's Baby
By David Parkinson
Producer William Castle devoted the latter part of his movie career to the cause of trying to scare movie crowds with cheap gimmicks. But Castle himself would fall victim to a macabre irony when he became genuinely terrified of one of his own pictures — indeed, the only title in his canon of any real quality. Here David Parkinson unravels the many woes that assailed Castle — from casting problems to ill health, hate mail, untimely death and savage murder — in the making and reception of Rosemary's Baby.
William Castle entertaining guests
After 15 years toiling in such B-movie series as The Whistler and The Crime Doctor, William Castle sold his soul to horror. In 1958 he hit upon the notion of insuring the lives of those brave enough to see his new chiller, Macabre, and recouped around $5 million on a $90,000 outlay. The same year's House on Haunted Hill confirmed Castle as the "King of the Gimmicks," thanks to Emergo, a pioneering process that involved a 12-foot plastic skeleton whizzing across the auditorium on a wire.
Ultimately, Emergo induced more laughter than terror. But Castle continued to promote his pictures with stunts. For The Tingler (1959), he devised Percepto, which used buzzers fitted to the seating to transmit small electric shocks at scary moments. Patrons of 13 Ghosts (1960) were issued with special glasses to view spectres visible only in Illusion-O, while the action in Homicidal and Mr Sardonicus (both 1961) was respectively interrupted for a Fright Break (during which those of a nervous disposition could claim a refund by passing through Coward's Corner) and a Punishment Poll that permitted punters to vote on the villain's fate.
But Castle had tired of novelty by the time audiences were invited to brandish cardboard axes during Strait-Jacket (1964) and be strapped into the Shock Section for I Saw What You Did (1965). For all his commercial success, Castle had always craved respect; and he hoped that Rosemary's Baby would finally win over the critics. But the showman who had peddled cheap thrills to millions ended up terrified of his own movie.
Castle secured the rights to Ira Levin's novel before its publication, reportedly beating off competition from Alfred Hitchcock. Paramount, keen to make the story of a young wife chosen by a coven of New York witches to mother Lucifer's child, entered into negotiations with Castle in early 1967. However, studio executives Charles Bludhorn and Robert Evans didn't want Castle to direct; and it was only with great reluctance that Castle agreed to produce the picture for Roman Polanski.
Castle with Mia Farrow and Paramount boss Robert Evans on the set of Rosemary's Baby
Castle had been in a similar situation two decades earlier, when he associate-produced Orson Welles' The Lady from Shanghai after his own treatment of Sherwood King's pulp novel If I Die Before I Wake had been rejected by Columbia chief Harry Cohn. But while Castle had been prepared to step aside for his hero Welles in 1947, he doubted the atheistic Polanski's suitability for Rosemary's Baby. Soon the two men were arguing over Polanski's choice of Tuesday Weld for the part of Rosemary Woodhouse. Eventually, with Robert Evans' backing, Castle prevailed and Mia Farrow was cast ahead of Jane Fonda, Julie Christie, Elizabeth Hartman, Joanna Pettet, and Polanski's wife, Sharon Tate.
John Cassavetes landed the role of Rosemary's husband, Guy. But this brought a third director on to the set, and when Polanski wasn't squabbling with Cassavetes about motivation and method, he was feuding with Castle about schedule delays and the advisability of actually depicting Satan's spawn on the screen.
The biggest problem during production, however, was caused by Frank Sinatra. He wanted to co-star with new wife Mia Farrow in The Detective, and when it became clear she would not be finished on Rosemary's Baby in time to start Gordon Douglas's cynical policier Sinatra ordered her to abandon the Polanski picture. However, Farrow refused to quit and Sinatra had her served with divorce papers in front of the cast and crew on the morning that Polanski shot the party sequence in which Rosemary's friends (including an uncredited Sharon Tate) lock Guy out of the kitchen to express their concern at her condition. Castle later regarded this incident as the first manifestation of the curse that descended upon the project. But worse was to follow.
Despite mixed reviews, Rosemary's Baby would become one of Paramount's five most successful features of the 1960s. Polanski's screenplay was nominated for an Oscar and Ruth Gordon won the Best Supporting Actress award for her performance as the sinister Minnie Castevet. But, with the plaudits, came calls from religious groups to boycott the picture for its alleged advocacy of diabolism. Then the hate mail began to arrive.
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