Will Holt ‘23
Staff Editor
As a born contrarian, I hold that Glee, not High School Musical, shall be remembered as the most significant trashy teen musical series of the early twenty-first century. Shocking, I know. However, before a mob of angry Disney-philes drags me off to an impromptu appointment with Madame La Guillotine, permit me to explain. While High School Musical peddled an endless stream of corporate crafted and artistically insignificant original music, Glee did not presume to know better than the great creative minds of our time and instead focused on curating a stream of tastefully produced cover songs. Other than gifting the public with three seasons of eminently entertaining television—and another three not worth mentioning—the ultimate effect of this creative decision was the exposure of millions of young and impressionable minds to fifty years worth of pop culture classics. It would take a cleverer man than me to calculate how many young people first experienced the genius of Fleetwood Mac, Aretha Franklin, and even the Beatles, thanks to Glee. Although I had listened to most of these musical giants long before I first tuned into Fox Network’s bombshell hit, there remained one embarrassingly large gap in my experience. I had never heard of—much less seen—The Rocky Horror Picture Show.
For the benefit of those unfamiliar with the seminal cult classic and main subject of this article, I shall provide a history of the film. The brainchild of an intermittently employed actor, Richard O’Brien, Rocky Horror began life as a campy stage musical in London. Inspired by cheesy ’50s science fiction and B horror movies, O’Brien crafted an irreverent parody of these pictures and, with the help of the talented director Jim Sharman, thrust his blasphemous creation upon British audiences in 1973.
Met with immediate success amongst critics and the general public alike, Rocky Horror turned into a pop phenomenon almost overnight. Production on the film version began soon after the original premiered on stage, starring the ever-fabulous Tim Curry as Dr. Frank-N-Furter and O’Brien himself as Riff Raff. The Rocky Horror Picture Show appeared in theaters in the summer of 1975, and, unlike the stage production, it proved to be an utter flop. On life support, The Rocky Horror Picture Show continued to be shown only in the dingiest of late-night theaters. However, in this environment, the musical found its niche. Midnight showings of the film became increasingly popular nationwide, and theater groups found the original play to be a fun and preposterous production to perform. Over the years, Rocky Horror grew into a worldwide cult phenomenon, tickling and triggering generations of adventurous fans.
The regular screenings developed a culture all their own. In addition to watching the film, when one goes to see Rocky Horror, one also dresses up in a campy costume and arrives prepared to lob obscenities and toilet paper at the characters on screen. Most attendees have seen the show so many times that they have memorized all of the popular chants and slurs delivered by audiences during the most famous scenes. At many showings, these veteran fans put the newcomers through some sort of light hazing before the movie begins. For example, when I arrived at my first viewing, a man sporting a satin cape and black fishnets scrawled the letter ‘V’ on my forehead in cherry pink lipstick. As one might imagine, seeing Rocky Horror for the first time can feel more like a brutal rite of passage, or perhaps trial by combat, than an average trip to the cinema.
Unfortunately, nowadays, most people would cringe and squeal at the thought of packing themselves into a crowded theater late at night. Midnight screenings of Rocky Horror are yet another casualty of this novel coronavirus. However, I don’t believe the inconveniences of the present should deter one from enjoying the film on his own. True, much of the entertainment value of watching Brad and Janet’s misadventure is in the hooting and hollering of one’s fellow theatergoers, but a private screening can also be a pleasant way to enjoy the music and take in the movie. Although I concede there is no substitute for a public screening, watching the show on one’s own can still be beneficial, especially for first-time viewers, as they will not have to cope with the debauchery of other fans.
In short, do not let COVID stand in the way of you doing the “Time Warp” again. There are countless ways of safely enjoying the show without piling into a physical theater. Although I can think of no perfect analog for a public viewing, one may find that a more subdued environment has its virtues. However, if such an idea remains totally unpalatable, perhaps revisiting Glee’s 2010 tribute to the show would be an acceptable compromise.
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wjh4ew@virginia.edu