Some thoughts I had while watching this film last night:
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Hot damn, John Cassavetes was a good-looking man. And those Stay-Prest slacks...yes, oh, oh yes...
Mia Farrow looks like a waif out of Keane painting. I wonder if she watches this movie now and thinks that having the Devil's spawn would have been preferable to having her lover run off with her daughter...
The movie is made creepier for me knowing that a year after he made it, Roman Polanski's wife and unborn child were slaughtered by the Manson family.
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And on that happy note, I bid you good day.
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