I can't believe it. Somehow I’d spent my entire life missing out on The Rocky Horror Picture Show. What a thrill ride. As I write this I'm still partially deaf from seeing it four days earlier.
Winter Jones invited me along to a screening at the Embassy Theatre. The tickets were $40 each. At first I'd thought, geez, that's a bit steep! But oh what the hell why not. Friday 7pm.
Showtime. At around 6:30pm I approached the Embassy. I should point out that at this point, I still knew zilch about Rocky Horror in general. Apparently it's THE cult-classic movie? Like The Room but enjoyable? And Tim Curry’s in it? Tights and high heels and glammed-up eye shadow? A time warp makes a cameo at some point?
And that’s it. That's all I knew.
Then, whoa, hang on, the Embassy entrance is swarming! What's with all the maid costumes? The makeup! The cosplaying! The glamour! And they're all going inside? This might have more of a fan following than I'd suspected!
Winter and I queued in too. Within stood a movie attendant. She rocked the most scandalous and sumptuous French maid outfit and glam-goth makeup job I'd encountered that entire afternoon. And she wished to know if I was a Virgin or a Slut.
I was about to retort “geez, lady, buy me a drink first,” but she presented two rolls of stickers, one saying VIRGIN, the other saying SLUT, both in outrageously scarlet and blood-drippy lettering.
Aha. Turns out it’s in-joke code for first-time Rocky Horror fans. I asked, but it wouldn't make sense for me to rock both stickers, more's the pity. VIRGIN it is. Winter and I made our way up to the Embassy’s main foyer for a quick snack and schmooze. It was heaving! Oceans of fans! Winter and I were confronted by a thunderous fleshy mosh pit of lingerie and undies and raunch and jiggly-bits.
Faces beamed, voices cheered, fists pumped, legs akimbo’d, naughty-bits flaunted, eyes sparkled. Most fans had come dressed as what I now know to be various movie characters. Employees too. Every single bar staff member, male or female, was down to bras and suspenders and tight tight corsets, and rocking out just like everyone else. I’d arrived resplendent in regular ol’ jeans and motorbiking boots and leather jacket, and was starting to feel distinctly over-dressed.
Winter and I had entered one of those mind-melting situations where everyone’s screaming to hear each other over the sound of everyone screaming to hear each other. I still had zilch idea of what Rocky Horror was actually about, but whatever maddened magicks it involved, (1) it’s obviously a ton of fun so count me in, and (2) no way would I embark on this quest unlubricated. 27 years later we got to the head of the queue. I attempted to pay, but no, turns out our $40 tickets cover costs for complimentary drinkie-poos, how rad is that?
Winter and I entered the theatre proper. Swag bags galore. One on every seat! Turns out each contained a photo of a slice of toast, a resealable bag containing ~20g of white rice, four playing cards, two glow sticks, a party hat, a rolled-up party streamer, a single sheet of newspaper, and a roll of toilet paper. Turns out our $40 covers these too. Winter, proud in his role as a 40-viewing Rocky Horror SLUT, explained that at certain points in the movie, we all throw these items up and around with tremendous violence.
Sounds fun! Though turns out there are a few house rules. I’m kicking myself for not taking more photos, but this early in the event I’d still retained enough presence of mind to photo the movie screen and its notes: https://share.icloud.com/photos/0a9Ohdyl8bcSzI8U1_6cjay5w
Though first! Songs. Live songs. Various of the event organisers strode around the theatre with microphones, banging out movie musical numbers with amazing skill and vigour. At least I’m guessing that’s what they sang - the entire audience also sang along at ear-splitting volume, so I couldn’t make out many words. This went on for a while, until I wondered if they were going to put the Embassy projection system to any use at all, or if this lovely singalong was the event proper.
But no. Singing concluded, lights dimmed, and off we go!
Days later, I’m still vague on what the actual plot was. I could hear barely one word of dialogue in three. Something about mad science. But it’s a musical all right. Scene one: a wedding. Cue a tremendous airborne tsunami of all those rice bags, now de-bagged and flung aloft. I had to shield my drink to avoid getting it gunked-up.
Plot: driving, storms, motorbikes, flat tyre, rain storm (cue newspapers over heads!), nearby mansion, request for phone, and Tim Curry strides forth at last: “I’m a SWEET TRANSVESTITE from TRANSSEXUAL TRANSYLVANIA!”
And it just got crazier from there. The rest of the movie was one tremendous demented hallucination marathon. I won’t spoil it here, though I’m honestly not sure I could, though I’ll say, if you’re curious and watching it for the first time, don’t watch it alone. It’ll baffle you and leave you cold. Nah. Watch it in a theatre, surrounded by screaming fans. You’ll feel even more baffled, but you’ll have the time of your life. Only later read reviews, context, history, all that good stuff.
There was an intermission. It featured a costume contest, as judged by the audience. We were tasked with rating each costumer’s costume by the vigour and the passion of our finest moaning. My ears are still ringing!
And! I finally learned the origin and context for a quote I’d encountered in isolation a million billion times:
“I see you shiver with antici—
—
—
—
—PAtion!”
All in all, an absolute blast. Believe it or not, there’s no actual nudity, and 99% of the visible nipples are male. It’s crammed with raunch and passion and debauchery, and at its debut in the ‘70s it allegedly blew a million minds, but by today’s sex-scene standards it’s surprisingly moderate. But glorious nonetheless.
Upon event end, seriously, in places you couldn’t even see the theatre floor. Everything, every seat, was buried beneath an ocean of toilet paper and party streamers. Cleanup must take hours! Any objections I’d had to $40 tickets fizzled.
Every person I’d chatted with since has been astounded I’d not already seen this decades earlier. The feeling is incredibly mutual! I can’t believe I’d somehow gone 39 years of my life yet missed it.
Original: https://www.facebook.com/pi.neutrino/posts/pfbid02...
