The year was 1973. The Sexual Revolution was two decades along, largely influenced by the Freudian school of psychology along with other academic movements. Same-sex sexual activity had been legal in England for half a decade, following the groundbreaking Wolfendon report, and explicit media had reached a new level of acceptance in the West. Landmark legal cases like R v Penguin Books Ltd afforded artists some of the greatest creative freedoms in history. Advancing medical technology surrounding birth control and abortion had given women in particular a newfound autonomy and freedom within the existing societal structure. Attitudes to sexuality were changing, and once-subjugated sectors of society were quickly discovering a brave new world of culture and expression.
Meanwhile, following roles in musicals such as Hair and Jesus Christ Superstar, a young Richard O’Brien had begun working on his latest project, a science fiction musical, which combined transgressive sexual politics with B-movie aesthetics. The result was a smash hit play, the Rocky Horror Show, which opened at the Theatre Upstairs in June 1973. Within just a matter of months, the play was being performed in increasingly large venues across London, and in less than two years, it was picked up for a film adaptation, albeit on a shoestring budget of just $1.4 million.
In spite of its genius, the film was a complete commercial and critical failure upon release in 1975. It was, as Roger Ebert said, ‘ignored by pretty much everyone.’ It did not scrape back even its paltry budget in its first year of release.
But ultimately, the film became a cult phenomenon. Beginning at the Waverly Theatre in New York, the film’s influence spread across the US like wildfire. Quickly, rituals developed around the show, including callouts, costumes and props. By 1979, there were Rocky Horror conventions, fan clubs, newsletters, and twice-weekly showings at over 230 theatres.
Today, the film has shown no sign of slowing down. I, myself, far from New York’s Waverley Theatre, have attended two sold-out Rocky Horror showings in the past year, complete with all the trimmings of newspapers, glowsticks and rubber gloves. The film remains one of the cultural touchstones of modern culture and is still beloved by those at the forefront of social transgression.
Among the film’s greatest attributes are its soundtrack. Taken straight from the stage musical (albeit with some songs switched around or removed), the songs of the film are a genius meld of glam rock and rockabilly. The powerful voices of Tim Curry, Richard O’Brien and, of course, Meat Loaf remain defining elements of the film’s sound. The ultra-iconic ‘Time Warp’ remains a mainstay of Halloween party playlists everywhere, and the quiet brilliance of songs like ‘I’m Going Home’ will have you weeping at a film about a Transylvanian from outer space.
Another highlight of the film is its production design. Frank-N-Furter’s castle is, in fact, the iconic Oakley Court in Berkshire, the famous setting of classic Hammer Horror films such as The Brides of Dracula and Hound of the Baskervilles. Much of the film was shot there, while other parts were filmed at the iconic Bray Studios, another Hammer Horror location, where many of their most famous efforts were filmed. Both of these locations serve as the perfect spots for the film’s B-movie pastiche, and some of the best scenes in the film appear taken straight from the Hammer filmography.
While some of the scenes of the film are highly referential and familiar to followers of the horror genre, others look completely unlike anything previously put to screen. Many of the set dressings in the film are surreal and Daliesque, with the outer walls of Frank’s ballroom in particular almost dreamlike in quality, covered with strange paintings of clouds, as well as altered replicas of the Mona Lisa. It is this aspect of the film’s aesthetic which helps to elevate it from a mere parody film into a serious work of art.
The film’s greatest strength, though, is its narrative. It is the tale of a sexually liberated gender-non-conforming genius, a Nietzschean figure of pure individualism, who is unmoved by the disapproval of the world at large. Over the course of the film, he is attacked by the faceless collective (Magenta, Riff Raff, Doctor Scott), who fear his powerful individuality, and ultimately, he is killed for his refusal to conform.
Doctor Scott’s character is the perfect encapsulation of the film’s ethos. He is an agent of the State, a man working with the FBI, a former Nazi scientist, likely relocated in the United States intelligence program Operation Paperclip. Upon realising that Riff Raff plans to kill Frank, Doctor Scott does not discourage him, nor does he intervene. In fact, he is completely in agreement with the maniacal, scheming Riff Raff, proclaiming in support of Frank’s execution: ‘Society must be protected!’
The film is a deeply political work, examining the way in which the establishment destroys the individual and the creative through a variety of methods. Brad and Janet are liberated through Frank’s teachings over the course of film, and it is precisely because of this influence that Frank has over people that he is deemed as a threat to social order by the other characters in the film. It is no coincidence that the film ends with Brad and Janet returned to the confines of society under the supervision of Doctor Scott. He is a figure of authority, determined to neutralise Frank’s radical impact.
The film, all-in-all, calls to mind Andrea Dworkin’s famous description of transvestism as a form of ‘erotic civil disobedience.’ It could be said that the film as a whole, as well as the cultural movement around it, is a grassroots movement of that same ‘erotic civil disobedience’, a wholly organic countercultural force which has arisen out of the mind of Richard O’Brien. It is a film that, even now, remains a radicalising force. It is many people’s first exposure to the idea of non-conventional gender expression, and, for that reason, it is and always will be a cornerstone of countercultural cinema.
5/5 stars
