Mia Farrow stars in “Rose­mary’s Baby.” | Courtesy

The story here starts simply, but its creeping nor­malcy ratchets “Rosemary’s Baby” (1968) into a lasting terror.

Rosemary (Mia Farrow) and her husband, Guy Wood­house (John Cas­savetes), move to an old apartment building on the Upper East Side in New York. She wants children. He wants to be a suc­cessful stage actor. They soon befriend a quirky old couple next door.

But there’s some­thing wrong with the neighbors, and Rosemary starts to notice it closing in on her new­lywed bliss. Her husband becomes distant, pre­ferring the neighbors’ company. She hears weird flute noises next door and smells incense burning in the night. Then, seem­ingly out of nowhere, she expe­ri­ences a graphic dream where a horde of elderly people and then Satan himself rape her in the apartment building basement.

Finally, a dis­as­trous preg­nancy.

For those who don’t know the end already, I won’t spoil it out­right. But it’s a visual approx­i­mation of W. B. Yeats’ apoc­a­lyptic phrase, “vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle.”

“Rosemary’s Baby” wields outsize influence among film­makers. Stanley Kubrick often listed it as one of his favorites. And the influence is clear. There’s a great sim­i­larity in tone between the rape scene in “Rosemary’s Baby” and the orgy sequence in Kubrick’s own New York movie, “Eyes Wide Shut” (1999). Both are depic­tions of degra­dation that unmask the dia­bolical impli­ca­tions of sexual obsession.

But Hillsdale stu­dents may be more familiar with the film’s other great dis­ciple, Wes Anderson. Anderson also fre­quently ranks “Rosemary’s Baby” as his favorite film, saying, “It’s always been a big influence on me, or a source of ideas.”

But unlike Kubrick, Anderson delights in sub­jecting his char­acters to hopeless and total­izing sexual abuse. In the same way Polanski slowly winds the noose around Rosemary, Anderson loves to spin stories such as “Rushmore” (1998), where a teenager becomes hope­lessly enmeshed in lust for a teacher or “Moonrise Kingdom” (2009), where two teenage out­casts redefine love on a moral heath.

For Anderson, the per­verse is beau­tiful — and doomed entrapment is its peak. It’s no wonder he revels in imi­tating “Rosemary’s Baby” down to the pink baroque font in “The Grand Budapest Hotel” (2014), ripped straight from Polanski’s opening credits.

Perhaps the greatest fan of the film, however, was Charles Manson. After seeing it in the­aters, he ordered members of his “family” to kill Sharon Tate, Polanksi’s then-pregnant wife. Joan Didion hap­pened to be in the neigh­borhood that day, and as she recalled, “No one was sur­prised.”