It was only supposed to run for a few weeks at a small experimental space upstairs at London’s Royal Court Theatre. But somehow, 50 years after “The Rocky Horror Show” first debuted, it is still attracting crowds. Its passionate fans supported the show during its transfers to the West End and Broadway, as well as after Hollywood beckoned and a film version of the musical was produced. In fact, there’s probably a midnight screening of “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” playing at a theater near you this weekend.
“Nobody thought it was going to be a hit,” admits its author and songwriter Richard O’Brien, an out-of-work actor who combined an interest in science-fiction, B-movies and glam rock into an enduring musical smash. (He also played Riff Raff in the film.) “Nobody was trying to make it big. We were just there to have fun. It’s really just a silly piece of nonsense — intentionally so. It’s a work of juvenilia and arrested development.”
O’Brien, now 82, recently got a chance to reflect on the production of “Rocky Horror” and to revisit the show’s legacy with “Strange Journey: The Story of Rocky Horror,” a documentary directed by his son, Linus O’Brien, that premieres at SXSW on March 9. The younger O’Brien got the idea for the film while assembling a clip package of his dad’s work as a present. He came across YouTube footage of “I’m Going Home,” an eleventh hour anthem from the show in which Tim Curry’s Dr. Frank-N-Furter, a trans scientist, laments about being misunderstood.
“The comments below the video were touching and heartfelt, and in some cases heartbreaking,” Linus O’Brien says. “We always knew ‘Rocky’ affected people’s lives, but I didn’t realize to what degree it did until I saw those messages.”
To examine the show’s impact, O’Brien traveled around the globe interviewing the likes of Curry (a staple of “Rocky Horror’s” stage and screen adaptations), its producer Lou Adler, and Susan Sarandon and Barry Bostwick, who played virginal couple Brad and Janet in the movie. Linus O’Brien grew up with the show, visiting his dad backstage and on set when the musical was being made into a film. That helped when it came time to interview the many artists who helped shape the production over the years.
“The show was a huge part of my childhood, so when I saw everyone 40 years later, there was a real rapport there,” he says.
For Richard O’Brien, getting the band back together meant realizing how much time had passed since Curry first donned Frank-N-Furter’s lace garter belt and Sarandon did the Time Warp. “It was a rude awakening,” he says. “In your mind everybody stays the same age. I still think of us as teenagers.”
As the documentary makes clear, “Rocky Horror” was the cool, hip, transgressive show when it first played in London — a glittery rejoinder to the kind of kitchen sink dramas that had dominated U.K. theater in the 1960s. It maintained its rebel spirit when it transferred across the pond and made the leap to movies, with celebrities like John Lennon and Mick Jagger showing up for the film premiere. The story of a pair of innocents who get lost on their way home and stumble around an eerie castle where a party is raging scrambled classic genres and put a sex-positive spin on them. It didn’t judge its characters’ kinks and desires; It celebrated them.
What depresses Richard O’Brien is that attitudes about sexual orientation and gender fluidity haven’t changed more since the show first premiered in 1973. He sees things sliding back around the world, but particularly in the United States now that the election of Donald Trump has brought a fresh wave of anti-trans legislation.
“Authoritarianism has taken over,” he says. “It’s a huge disappointment. I weep for America.”
Linus O’Brien agrees with his dad. “You would hope that ‘Rocky’ would be a relic right now,. To have it still be relevant in some ways is sad. But hopefully people can still cling to it and feel seen even if they feel like outsiders.”
As Richard O’Brien notes, “Rocky Horror” far outstripped its underground origins, becoming globally embraced. A big part of that is the movie. Made for $1.4 million in 1975, the film was initially dismissed by critics and seemed destined for box office oblivion. However, it became a cult favorite after resonating on college campuses. Over time, people would dress in costume, sing along to the music, and talk back at the screen at rowdy screenings. A midnight movie institution, the film is considered to be the longest-running theatrical release in history, with screenings still taking place around the country. It has grossed more than $170 million worldwide.
Linus O’Brien thinks some of that success has to do with its central message of acceptance. But he doesn’t discount the appeal of its soundtrack, which includes rock-tinged favorites like “”Touch-a, Touch-a, Touch-a, Touch Me” and “Dammit Janet.”
“Dad’s probably modest about this, but you know, the songs in ‘Rocky’ are incredibly strong, and that’s one the main reason why it’s lasted this long,” he says. “I mean, if the songs were just half as good as they were, we wouldn’t be talking about ‘Rocky’ now. People wouldn’t go week after week. I personally think that song-wise it’s up there with ‘Grease’ and ‘The Wizard of Oz.’”
At this, Richard O’Brien lets out a groan.
“It’s better than ‘Grease,’” he says emphatically. “‘Grease’ was looking back and parodying something. ‘Rocky’ doesn’t do that. I was more rock ‘n’ roll.”
