I first saw The Rocky Horror Picture Show a couple of months after its premiere in September 1975 at the Canadian Forces Base cinema in Winnipeg.
This was before the film inspired ritual midnight screenings in which audiences participated in shooting water guns and throwing popcorn at the screen. It is clear that such things would not be allowed in a movie theater, where you had to stand during the playing of the national anthem before each showing.
It is curious, however, that this event is considered indisputable. Shot through a strange lens, the edgy musical parody of the horror genre tells the story of a wholesome American couple, Brad and Janet, who fall prey to a host of unhealthy influences when a storm forces them to take refuge in a “Frankenstein place” where Dr. Frank-n-Furter (Tim Curry) conducts experiments to create life in ways far beyond biological norm.
The film's implicit embrace of over-the-top sexuality (“Don't dream it, be it” would have been its anthem if it weren't for the sheer, damn catchiness of “Time Warp”) seemed to simply slide off the backs of audiences in 1975, even at the Base Theatre.
That doesn't mean it's particularly controversial right now. It's currently airing on the Disney Channel for goodness sake.
But in response to a new wave of conservatism, there is an element of defiance in the way the film celebrates its 50th anniversary, with screenings across the continent featuring vivid recollections from actors Barry Bostwick (Brad Majors) and Nell Campbell (Little Nell). The sublime Patricia Quinn (Purple) will host Canadian screenings of the film October 26-29 in Winnipeg, Toronto and Kitchener.
Does it hold up? Yes and no.
After the first show, I attended midnight screenings in Toronto at legendary luxury houses like the Roxy. Despite the crowd's excitement, the film's decline deepens at midnight: it opens with a burst of energy while the second act feels ponderous by comparison. Especially around 1am
But the performances remain a marvel, especially Tim Curry, who carries it all through with wicked glee. The curry will always be worth the price of admission.
Rocky's opening theme, “Sci-Fi Double Feature,” pays homage to films like Forbidden Planet and Tarantula. But for Rocky's true origins, watch The Old Dark House (1932, streaming on Tubi), directed by James Whale, one of the quartet of horror classics he made at Universal, including Frankenstein, The Invisible Man and The Bride of Frankenstein.
Keith was gay, and he made no secret of it at a time when even the most powerful actors and directors remained closeted to preserve or protect their careers.
The Old Dark House, an adaptation of J.B. Priestley's In the Dark, was filmed before the 1934 Hays Code ruled that homosexuality was a taboo subject in Hollywood films. It's perhaps Whale's most blatantly gay film – and if you've seen Bride of Frankenstein, that's saying something – where a group of travelers (including Charles Laughton, Raymond Massey, Gloria Stewart and Melvyn Douglas) are forced by a terrible storm to take refuge at the ramshackle Femmes estate in bucolic Wales. Horace Femm (Ernest Thesiger, who will play the twisted Doctor Pretorius in The Bride) is the fussy head of a family that includes a gangster, mute butler (Boris Karloff), a pyromaniac (Brember Wills) and ancient grandfather Roderick (Elspeth Dudgeon, aka John Dudgeon, perhaps one of the first gender reassignments in history movie).
It's full of surprises and is a worthy second film in the Rocky Horror Picture Double Feature this Halloween.
If you notice how queer characters in Rocky Horror revel in their wickedness, it's a tribute to the way homosexuality has long been coded into Hollywood films. For a deeper dive into this topic, watch the second episode of Queer for Fear, a four-part series from director-producer Bryan Fuller (Hannibal), which explores the intersection between gay films and horror films.
It looks specifically at the work of Whale and Alfred Hitchcock. The latter director, while nominally heterosexual, repeatedly revealed homosexual overtones in films such as Rope, Strangers on a Train and Psycho.
In this episode, lesbian writer-critic Carmen Maria Machado offers the succinct explanation yet for why LGBT audiences and filmmakers embrace the gleefully evil convention: “If you've been on the other side of the pitchfork, maybe you'll sympathize a little with the monster.”
