Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating 9/10

Cast: Julia Garner, Dianne Wiest, Kevin McNally, Jim Sturgess, Marli Siu, Rosy McEwen, Andrew Buchan, Anton Blake Horowitz, Raphael Sowole, Tina Gray, Patrick Lyster, Rachel Atkins, Andre Lillis, Hannah Morley, Nikkita Chadha, Kobna Holdbrook-Smith, Patricia Jones, Tina Chiang, James Swanton, Amy Leeson, Scott Hum.

One of the main issues with a prequel written years after the original was filmed is that it can, if not researched properly by the writers, deflect from the narrative that made what followed an act of cinematic glory.

Quite often this is down to the creative team behind it concentrating on the original protagonist, believing that there is always more to their story than just the moment in which their life was thrust into the maelstrom of madness of observation. Instead, it is often that which interacts with the main character for what may be seen as the most innocuous of reasons to whom the story should revolve; almost as if it is a giant case of tag in which the problem is passed from person to person as if it is communicable, transmissible and only in the event of death does it stop.

For horror fans such a narrative could be seen to work, even in films with no apparent connection such as the impressive supernatural thriller Fallen, if they adhere to the idea that the hero does not have to be main narrator, the focus of illusion.

Apartment 7A is such a film that understands the past enough to give the prequel the enigmatic nudge to nostalgia and framing it in such a way that if the viewer is unaware of the connection to one of the most talked of films of Mia Farrow’s career.

A small, almost passing, fleeting scene in Rosemary’s Baby brings Apartment 7A into focus as Julia Garner gives a terrific performance as Terry Gionoffrio, a blink and you will miss the reference from the aforementioned 1960s classic, a dancer to whom one bad break on the stage brings her to the attention of Roman and Minnie Castevet, a couple whose names will sting the cinephile with fear and wonder in equal oppressive manner.

It is in the sense of history that the story stands out with an impulse that is shattering, the damage wrought so cunningly over the running time, building slowly, taking its time to come to the final brutal ending is one of expected short shallow breaths as the viewer understands the intentions and yet is still surprised that Ms. Gionoffrio carries it out with determination and deceiving the devil so easily.

It is to the genuine pleasure of seeing Dianne Wiest and Kevin McNally work so well together as the Castevets, the subtly of change that is hidden perfectly from those with no knowledge of the previous film, that they do exhibit an air of ferocious kindness in the unforgiven atmosphere of 1960s New York. The anger, the destruction inside Ms. Wiest as she hangs back with utter conviction to how she sees secretly the contempt towards the dancer is especially chilling, and perhaps we can witness one of her greatest roles in this film.

A prequel has to be clever, it must add to the story, not show a disdain for the past event, and in Apartment 7A the viewer finds commitment to that edict of cinema.

A brutal tale told well.

Ian D. Hall