Though a solid plot usually separates a good film from a bad one, the absurdity of The Rocky Horror Picture Show’s illogical story-line simply adds to its titillating charm. Not knowing what the hell is going on seems to be part of the fun when it comes to this cult-classic campy horror.
Released in 1975, this year marks the film’s 50th anniversary. It also marks a milestone for the culture and fandom of the film that have since taken on a life of their own. To celebrate this momentous occasion, I went to a special screening of the iconic film at The B in Queanbeyan to pop my Rocky Horror cherry.
The Rocky Horror Picture Show follows newly engaged couple Brad (Barry Bostwick) and Janet (Susan Sarandon) as they reluctantly seek help from the inhabitants of a nearby castle when a flat tire stops them in their tracks on a thunderous night. To their surprise, they encounter transvestite scientist Dr Frank-N-Furter (Tim Curry) and his creepy cohort of acquaintances. We learn that Brad and Janet have come to visit on a fateful night, as the Dr is set to reveal his latest creation: Rocky Horror (Peter Hinwood).
When it first hit cinemas, Rocky Horror was an immediate and resounding commercial flop. Understandably, it was greatly misunderstood for its time. It must have come as a rude shock for cinema goers expecting a jump scare or two out of a film pitched as a picket-fence couple encountering an eerie castle on a stormy night. I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall to witness their reactions to the gaggle of glamorously ghastly characters hiding behind those castle walls. Moving to midnight screenings helped the movie to finally find its audience. Creatures of the night came out in droves to redeem Rocky Horror, helping to catapult it towards the acclaim it has today. It was most ardently embraced by the LGBTQIA+ community who continue to celebrate the film for the way it pushed boundaries around gender and sexuality.
Outcasts of all kinds continue to find refuge in the characters of this beloved movie, and though no one’s performance was particularly ghastly, the ineffable Tim Curry makes up for them all anyway. As he descended from the elevator and thrust his way into his signature song ‘Sweet Transvestite’ I was immediately transfixed. Every lip quiver and eyebrow twitch in Curry’s dazzling performance is purposeful and striking. My eyes were in constant search for his presence as I sat awestruck in my seat. The audience seemed to hum with an amorous thrill as he sauntered around on screen, his taunting and teasing bouncing from brazen to coy and back again with every step. It was immediately clear that much of Rocky Horror’s success is attributable to Curry’s contributions alone.
It does also help that the movie’s soundtrack is a glorious opus of glittering glam-rock. Originally a stage production written by Richard O’Brien (who also plays Riff Raff), Rocky Horror’s film soundtrack is a character in and of itself. Buoyed by legendary producer Lou Adler’s executive production, the soundtrack’s musical influences range from the Rolling Stones to Chuck Berry. It might not have the rigour of records by bands like Kiss or Bachman-Turner Overdrive — whose stylings both stood out to me as possible Rocky Horror influences — but they sure do share an affinity for playfulness. Theatrical piano and fervent electric guitar illuminate salacious and sarcastic lyrics that continue to keep audiences on their toes. Even Hinwood’s mediocre vocal performance found a way to dazzle me thanks to O’Brien’s lyrical handiwork on ‘The Sword of Damocles’. Actually, nevermind … that must have just been his teeny tiny golden briefs. Stand out tracks include ‘Dammit Janet’, ‘The Time Warp’, and ‘Hot Patootie/Bless My Soul’ which shockingly but not surprisingly sees Meatloaf grace us with his presence. Sarandon’s performance of ‘Touch-a, Touch-a, Touch Me’ may have been an early influence of Kate Bush’s as her shrill, kittenish voice takes centre stage. Given this movie came out in the 70s when sexism and misogyny were rife, having a woman talk about sex let alone ask for it in this song must have been a revelation.
As pertinent as the soundtrack is to the film’s overall appeal, audience participation is just as much of a highlight. I was peripherally privy to Rocky Horror‘s extensive lore prior to watching the film and though my own experience was shared on a much smaller and slightly less enthusiastic scale than I was hoping for (there were barely 30 people in the audience and most of them were reminiscent seniors), being part of any sort of a crowd still helped me to capture the film’s magnitude and grandeur. (Considering watching it alone in my room seemed almost sinful to be honest.) Hearing the audience roar with laughter as Brad puffs on a cigarette following his close encounter with Dr Frank-N-Furter wasn’t just amusing — it was integral to my viewing experience! I now feel part of a club that I had no clue I was so desperate to be part of.
For some, this movie may still be startling and offensive, but regardless of all its innuendo — and the fact that it leaves no bulge left unbuldging — Rocky Horror is an enduring artefact of cinematic, musical, and queer culture and history. Like all good art does, Rocky Horror reflected and influenced the culture and creativity of its time and of the future, helping to define subcultures like the punk scene. Not bad for a movie that debuted as an unequivocal flop.
Despite the many questions buzzing in my brain throughout the film, ultimately I chose to take Dr Frank-N-Furter’s advice and ‘give myself over to pleasure’ instead. It’s easier, and much more enjoyable, to throw yourself into the cheesiness of Rocky Horror than to spend the hour and forty minutes trying to stop your foot from tapping along to the fabulous soundtrack.