Review: The Film, The Rocky Horror Picture Show...

In a silent tribute to the late great Tim Curry, I watched this film for (about) the fiftieth time. Here are my current thoughts. 

To call The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975) a film is truly understating it. To call it a cult classic also underestimates it. But to call it a cultural phenomenon? That is much closer to the mark. 

A wholly commercial failure upon its 1975 release, the film found new life at late-night weekend screenings, where audiences transformed from passive viewers into active participants. When I was in my late teens and early twenties, it was the thing to do on a Friday Night. That and munching on French fries with gravy at the local diner afterwards. 

The Rocky Horror Picture Show began as a 1973 stage musical written by Richard O’Brien, who plays Riff-Raff in the film, while he was between acting jobs. The stage production began on a shoestring budget in June 1973 at London’s tiny 62-seat Royal Court Theatre Upstairs, parodying classic B-movies, horror, sci-fi, and glam rock. The small fringe production became an unexpected hit, leading to West End runs and international productions. After seeing the Los Angeles stage production, music producer Lou Adler partnered with 20th Century Fox to finance a film adaptation.

The story follows newly engaged couple Brad Majors (Barry Bostwick, Love, Danielle) and Janet Weiss (Susan Sarandon, Thelma & Louise), who are stranded by a flat tire on a rainy night. They seek a phone at a nearby mansion, only to stumble upon a bizarre Transylvanian convention. They meet Dr. Frank-N-Furter (Tim Curry, Clue), the mansion’s eccentric master and an alien scientist from the planet Transylvania. During their stay, Frank-N-Furter unveils his latest experiment: Rocky Horror (Peter Hinwood, Sebastiane), a genetically engineered, muscular blond man created to fulfill his desires. Brad and Janet’s wholesome values are tested as they are seduced and drawn into a wild night of hedonism, betrayal, and sci-fi tragedy. 

Spectators dressed up as their favorite Rocky Horror characters. Fans also pioneered the concept of  “shadow casting,” with local performers acting out the film’s scenes live in front of the screen. They shouted lines and cues at the screen while using props like water pistols, toast, and newspapers to mimic the on-screen action. All late-night moviegoers, dressed up or not, participated in dancing to “The Time Warp.” Indeed, Rocky Horror was an experience. An unforgettable one. 

Aside from cult participation, the film also offered safe spaces for the marginalized. Beneath its campy sci-fi and parodies of classic horror, the film offered a welcoming space for outsiders and nonconformists. Dr. Frank-N-Furter’s defiant androgyny and unapologetic sexuality offered many queer and isolated viewers a sense of identity, self-expression, and belonging. Live shadow-cast performances created welcoming, judgment-free spaces for exploring identity long before LGBTQ+ acceptance entered the mainstream.

What began as an underground countercultural phenomenon gradually found its way into mainstream entertainment. The film’s distinctive style, music, and audience rituals have been referenced and parodied across decades of television, from Fame and That ’70s Show to Glee. By mocking rigid social and sexual norms, Rocky Horror helped bring camp, gender fluidity, and alternative lifestyles into mainstream American culture. 

Themes of sexual liberation, the rejection of conservative conformity, and finding belonging as an outsider permeate Rocky Horror. This film celebrates sexual freedom by featuring Frank-N-Furter as a catalyst for challenging the conventional values of Brad and Janet. As he leads them to uncover their hidden desires, their journey of sexual awakening represents a rebellion against repression and traditional societal norms. Brad and Janet’s rigid suburban world of Denton contrasts sharply with Frank-N-Furter’s chaotic castle, highlighting the conflict between social conformity and liberating self-expression. The famous mantra “Don’t dream it, be it” captures the film’s celebration of authentic identity, as characters shed social expectations and embrace their hidden desires and true selves.

And here I find myself where, again, I look at a beloved film from my past through a contemporary lens. I didn’t cringe at this viewing, but issues not present at the time hold water now. Alas, it was a film made in the 1970s, before much awareness and acceptance occurred. Contemporary audiences often criticize the film’s treatment of consent, particularly when Frank-N-Furter deceives Brad and Janet by impersonating their partners, raising concerns about coercion and unequal power dynamics. Views on Frank-N-Furter are polarized. Many regard him as a symbol of queer culture, whereas detractors contend that his predatory and harmful actions perpetuate outdated stereotypes that associate gender and sexual nonconformity with deviance.

Critics often describe the standalone film as uneven, arguing that its disjointed narrative and abrupt ending undermine the payoff of its B-movie parody. Its deliberately cheesy homage to 1950s science fiction and horror can feel more chaotic than satirical, leaving style and spectacle to overshadow narrative coherence. Others contend that the transition from stage to screen polished away some of the original production’s raw, underground energy, making its camp and rebellion feel less spontaneous and subversive. 

Rocky Horror deconstructs binary sexuality decades before the concept was accepted. The film destabilizes fixed ideas of sexuality and gender, anticipating Judith Butler’s theory of gender performativity. Through costumes, shifting sexual roles, and Frank-N-Furter’s fluid identity, gender becomes a performance rather than a fixed truth, challenging conventional ideas of identity and conformity. Frank-N-Furter embodies a fluid, pansexual identity that rejects rigid labels. While celebrated for challenging traditional gender and sexual norms, modern queer criticism questions whether his predatory and destructive behavior subverts stereotypes or unintentionally reinforces older associations between sexual nonconformity and deviance.

Academic readings connect Rocky Horror’s choreography and audience participation to performance and marginalization, viewing its ritualized movements as a way for socially constrained bodies to reclaim visibility, identity, and communal belonging. Through call-backs, props, costumes, and shadow performances, viewers transform Rocky Horror from passive entertainment into a communal ritual, collectively challenging the traditional authority of both the film and conventional social norms.

Tim Curry delivers a magnetic, defiant, and gender-bending performance as Frank-N-Furter, making him the film’s undeniable center of gravity, especially in showstopping numbers like “Sweet Transvestite.” Richard O’Brien brings a strange, calculating theatricality to the screen, reinforcing the film’s blend of camp, menace, and dark humor. Susan Sarandon and Barry Bostwick expertly parody straitlaced, all-American innocence, making Janet and Brad the perfect conservative foils to the sexual freedom and anarchic chaos of Frank-N-Furter’s castle.

Meat Loaf (Wayne’s World) injects a blast of raw, bombastic rock-and-roll energy as Eddie, making an outsized impact with his scene-stealing performance of “Hot Patootie – Bless My Soul.” Patricia Quinn (Monty Python’s The Meaning of Life) gives Magenta a sharp, unsettling presence, while Little Nell (Pink Floyd: The Wall) brings Columbia an eccentric physicality and manic energy. Together, their performances help define the castle’s strange, seductive atmosphere, making it both unnerving and impossible to look away from.

In all honesty, rewatching The Rocky Horror Picture Show on a small screen cannot compare to the immediacy and electricity of seeing it as a live theatrical event. I am glad the film still plays in theaters more than fifty years after its release, because its true power lies in the communal experience surrounding it. I recommend the film, but with one condition: see it in a theater, at midnight, with an active audience ready to participate. That is the version of Rocky Horror you will remember.