13: Dammit, Janet
My cousins are visiting from Florida and they say they went to see The Rocky Horror Picture Show and they did audience participation. They try to explain what that is but I can’t make any sense of it. The next time I’m at my aunt’s house I mention it to her. She says that I should really see it. She says that she saw that movie as a young woman and it changed her life. So I have to find out what it’s all about.
I ask my parents to rent the video the next time we are at Blockbuster and I sit on the carpet in our living room and watch it and it’s confusing and exciting and weird. I feel like Janet, thrust into a world I don’t understand. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen. My mom comes in toward the end and switches it off when she sees the orgy scene in the pool. I am shocked that my auntie encouraged me to watch this. She seems so normal, so domestic. And I still don’t know what audience participation is.
15: There’s A Light
They’re showing the Rocky Horror Picture Show for Halloween. With audience participation! Me and my friends - we are prepared. We looked on the Internet and we found a list of what to shout and what to throw and when to throw it. We printed out the list and rented the video and practiced. I’m going to be Magenta because I’ve already got the frizzy hair and I’ve still got my white apron and black mini skirt from a play I was in last year.
Vincent shows up at my house dressed as Brad, looking awkward with his scruffy mullet and an oversized suit he probably borrowed from his dad. I can’t imagine why he’d choose the most boring character in the whole movie. But I guess it was the safe option.
We have to get my parents to drive us out to the little hippie town of Pahoa to the ancient Akebono Theater with its creaky wooden seats. We have got our costumes and our makeup, our toilet paper rolls and newspapers and water guns. There’s no shadow cast, no virgin initiation. But we get to shout rude words and throw things and it’s amazing. We can’t really explain why but it’s important. We are all weird little theater kids. Probably a lot of us are queer, but we don’t know how to talk about it yet. We don’t have queer role models. We don't have Chappell Roan or Heartstopper. But once a year, we have the Rocky Horror Picture Show.
17: Don’t Dream It
It’s my senior year and the Akebono is doing something different this time. They are doing the actual play of the Rocky Horror Picture Show. Not a screening, not a shadow cast. Only last year we begged our drama club teacher to let us do this play and she said it was really hard to get the rights. But maybe she just thought it was too risque for high school. We get all dressed up and bring our props; they are still doing audience participation. The experience is magical. They guy playing Frank-n-Furter is glorious. There’s a moment near the end, after all the chaos and murder. Things get quiet and the lights go down and he’s in the spotlight singing “Don’t dream it, be it,” sweat and glitter shimmering on his face. There’s toilet paper trailing off the ceiling fan making slow swirls above us through the warm night air.
28: I’m Going Home
It’s only been a year since me and my partner moved to New Zealand but it's already starting to feel like home. When I hear that Rocky Horror is playing at the most beautiful grand old theater in Wellington, of course I have to go. My partner and my new friends are coming with me. I’m going to be Columbia because I’ve got the right hair - cropped short year round. I’ve dyed it red for the occasion.
When we arrive at the theater we are handed prop bags. The Embassy is big with ornate carved wood paneling. The chairs have plush upholstery and cup holders. I have a great time, though my friends don’t have the same connection to the experience that I do. There’s a shadow cast which really does add another dimension. My high school friends would have loved it.
I used to go as Magenta because I wanted to be her - wild, bold, bad-ass. But I can admit now that I’ve always been more of a Columbia. She acts cool and terrifying like the rest of her crew, but deep down she’s kind and sensitive and quick to love and sometimes that gets her in trouble. But I’d like to think I’ve learned from my mistakes. I’m more comfortable being myself these days.
44: Super Heroes
I talked to a friend about this thing I'm writing, and it turns out they have a history with the show too; they get it. I found out that the Embassy is still doing a show every September. We’ve just missed it, but maybe we’ll go next year. I’m feeling thankful for the organisers who have been keeping the show going in Wellington. The Akebono is long gone now, closed down and then torn down, but something occurs to me that I’d never thought of before. All those years ago, there must have been some Rocky Horror fanatic that made it all happen. I thought we didn’t have any queer elders looking out for us, but there must have been someone working behind the scenes, conjuring that space for us, a fairy godmother we never met.
