Featured in Farrago 2025 - Volume 101, Edition 6.

Grab your blue eyeshadow, feather boas and fishnets girls; it’s time to do the time warp again! 

‘The Rocky Horror Picture Show’, Jim Sharman’s 1975 cult classic, is celebrating its 50th anniversary this year. Based on the musical written by star Richard O'Brien, the film is a symbol of queer excellence and sexual freedom, cementing itself as a truly iconic piece of media since its initial release. 

One stormy, fateful November night, the lives of Brad Majors (Barry Bostwick) and his fiancée, Janet Weiss (Susan Sarandon), were changed immeasurably by the antics of Dr Frank-n-Furter (Tim Curry) and his cronies. Arguably, the life of every person who laid eyes on Tim Curry in that corset was also turned upside down. Buttoned up and sexually stifled, the couple’s walls are broken down by the mad scientist until they end the film in face paint, corsets and sequins just the same.  

Tim Curry’s on-screen magnetism is undeniable in every role he plays, whether that be the butler in ‘Clue’ (1985) or Rooster in ‘Annie’ (1982). Rocky Horror is no different, where I find his physicality as Frank-n-Furter mesmerising to watch. That, and his ability to run up stairs in high heels. Curry holds your hand through the film as Frank-n-Furter goes from sexy to scary to heartbreakingly vulnerable and all the way back. The audience arrives at the end of the final “floor show” scene grieving the loss of a diva who just wanted to go home.  

Although Frank-n-Furter demands the spotlight, his entourage of fans, aliens and unconventional conventionalists create an atmosphere of fun, freedom and unabashed self-expression. Richard O’Brien serves rockstar vampire as Riff Raff, and Patricia Quinn’s Magenta equally embodies that spookiness with oversized eyelashes and an implacable accent. The Transylvanians contrast Columbia’s (Nell Campbell) cheery, twangy fun, a performance that delivers not only moments of musical joy but profound tragedy. Her devotion to Frank-n-Furter, resulting in her ultimate sacrifice to try and save his life, breaks my heart time and time again. The iconic ensemble of the Frankenstein Place remains just that and continues to provide Halloween costume inspiration for gay teenagers everywhere. (Riff Raff and Magenta’s post-hookup sibling reveal is always a tough watch, though.) 

The cultural impact of Rocky Horror is undying, and its significance for the LGBTQIA+ community continues to thrive half a century after it first hit screens. The key message – don't dream it, be it – encourages viewers to embrace themselves as they are, and as they wish to be. Representation sparks confidence in audiences, even through a screen and even across time. 

Of the anniversary, Curry said he is proud that the film can “give anyone permission to behave as badly as they really want, in whatever way and with whom”. This was transformative at the time of the film's release and remains equally powerful to a modern audience. In a time of increased sociopolitical uncertainty and polarised communities, a film that brings people together to sing and dance cannot be taken for granted. 

I went to a 2:50pm Sunday screening (not the most costume-friendly) to celebrate Rocky’s 50th birthday, wearing my most tram-appropriate blue eyeshadow and red lipstick. Every song was sung out loud, of course, and by the time the film had finished, I’d smacked off my lipstick almost entirely. I wished there had been a little more audience participation, though. But the most gutting part was someone in my screening messing up the timing of “anticip.......ation”. I felt like booing. 

As was learned from the fateful 2016 re-boot (shudder), Rocky Horror’s charm lies in its grit, its perfect imperfections. The lack of polish makes the characters feel both truly grotesque and truly sexy. There is nothing mysterious or erotic about 4K HD and perfect soft-focus lighting. This is why the reign of Rocky Horror remains undisturbed, the shadow casts stay on stage, the songs continue to be sung. Despite being about aliens, it’s profoundly human. 

If you have yet resisted seeing this cultural cornerstone, I do hope you’re adaptable (I know Brad is!).