A ‘ROCKY HORROR’ REDO
Madcap musical migrates from bomb to cult classic to loving TV remake
For more than 40 years, fervent fans of “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” have descended on movie theaters to watch — and participate — as a “sweet transvestite from Transsexual, Transylvania,” leads his houseguests through a campy celebration of horror films, glam rock and sexual freedom.
Some devotees, in fact, have seen the film so many times they can recite entire scenes of dialogue without batting a fake eyelash. But will a TV reboot have them shivering with antici... pation?
Next week, Fox airs “The Rocky Horror Picture Show: Let’s Do the Time Warp Again.” Directed by Redwood City native Kenny
Ortega, it’s a two-hour “reimagining” of the subversive cult classic that has Laverne Cox slipping into the fishnets and heels of Dr. Frank-N-Furter.
Tim Curry, who played Frank in the original, is now our narrator. The cast also includes Victoria Justice, Ryan McCartan, Adam Lambert and Ben Vereen.
Predictably, some diehards expressed lots of skepticism when the TV project was announced. Why mess with a film that continues to play in cineplexes and inspire live re-enactments everywhere? Ortega knew he had his work cut out for him.
“That was my biggest challenge. I really wanted to make sure that the fans didn’t feel like we were treading, but that we were celebrating,” he says. “That we were coming at it with the same love, appreciation and adoration. That we are them.”
So how did this crazy devotion develop in the first place? “Rocky,” after all, didn’t appear to have the makings of a cultural phenomenon when it premiered back in 1975. A bizarre, low-budget adaptation of a British-made stage musical, it follows naive young sweethearts Brad and Janet, who, during a dark and stormy night, stumble upon the strange gothic castle of Dr. Frank-N-Furter, a flirtatious, sexually ambiguous mad scientist.
There, Frank-N-Furter is poised to herald the birth of a muscle-bound monster created solely to fulfill Frank’s every desire. Lots of singing and dancing and naughty carnal gymnastics ensue.
“Rocky Horror” bombed at the box office and was subjected to plenty of dismissive reviews. A critic for Newsweek famously described it as “tasteless, pointless and plotless.”
But then someone sensing that something so bad could be so good had the bright idea to arrange midnight screening, and eventually, “Rocky Horror” became an interactive ritual. Dressed as characters from the film, fans took on a “don’t-dream-it-be-it” attitude, rocking silky lingerie and/or lots of leather. They talked back to the screen and tossed toast and fired off water pistols at appropriate moments.
“It’s just something very fun and different,” says longtime “Rocky Horror” addict Larry Viezel. “You’re not going to see someone putting on a Tom Hanks mustache to go see ‘Sully.’ And it’s not something you experience while watching Netflix on your laptop, alone in your room.”
Viezel, a New Jersey resident who has co-authored a book and produced a documentary on the “Rocky Horror” phenomenon, attributes the film’s staying power to several factors, including its catchy tunes and a storyline that has Biblical leanings.
“Brad and Janet are like Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden,” he says. “Frank-N-Furter is the serpent who gets them to eat the forbidden fruit ... It all basically taps into a coming-of-age scenario.”
Nate Havoc, a Bay Area “Rocky” devotee, insists that part of the fun stems from the open and accepting nature of the film’s fan base, which welcomes anyone who has felt like an outcast.
“We’ve had people who might be a little shy or socially awkward when they first join us,” he says. “But they soon come out of their shell and get into the spirit of things.”
Havoc — that’s his stage name — runs Barely Legal, a roving theater troupe that performs “Rocky Horror” in various Bay Area theaters. For him, the more “Rocky” the better. He’s willing to give the TV remake a shot.
“It can’t be as good as the the original, but I’m eager to see it,” he says. “It’s an opportunity to increase awareness of ‘Rocky Horror,’ bring in some newbies and keep its legacy alive.”
That has to be music to the ears of Ortega. Largely known for his work on Disney’s “High School Musical” franchise, he was putting his creative stamp on shows and videos for the San Francisco rock group The Tubes in 1975 when he saw “Rocky” for the first time at the Roxy in Los Angeles.
“It was life-changing,” he recalls. “It sort of broke the walls down for me in terms of being a director and a choreographer at that young age. It was like, ‘Wow, all is possible. There are so many completely different ways you can come at theater and tell a story.’”
In some ways, Ortega’s “Rocky” update is a movie within a movie, with audience-participation scenes cleverly woven into its framework. It’s also a showcase for Cox’s talents. The transgender actress, known for her work in “Orange Is the New Black,” overcame the initial hesitancy of Fox executives to land the role.
Ortega believes viewers will be dazzled.
“She’s a force with fiveoctave range,” he says. “She had so much to give it: A life experience, an incredible depth of talent, an enthusiasm and an incredible respect for this film ... She gave us a reason to make this movie.”
Still, something is likely to be lost with the smallscreen adaptation — unless fans are willing to act out and make a mess of their living rooms.
“Toast and water guns can play havoc with your TV set,” says Viezel. “It’s not going to be pretty.”
I reallywanted to make sure that the fans didn’t feel like we were treading, but that wewere celebrating.” — Kenny Ortega, director