The Rocky Horror Picture Show: 50 Years of Queer Community (By Ciaran Duff)

At 9:00 am on Friday, September 26th, in the middle of my TA period, I found myself frantically refreshing the Academy Museum of Motion Pictures website — hoping for the whispers of another Rocky Horror Picture Show 50th anniversary ticket drop. 

I managed to grab myself a ticket before they sold out again seconds later, still having no clue of the night I was in for.

I had merely a month prior lost my Rocky Horror Picture Show virginity at the Nuart Theatre’s weekly midnight screening, and to be honest, my opinion of the experience was a tad mixed. I was not prepared for the ritualistic preamble or the callouts that ran like clockwork, but the passion of the Sins O’ The Flesh shadowcast and the enthusiastically participatory audience drew me into a collective experience. Rocky Horror holds a language, culture, and camaraderie deeply entrenched in the queer experience and transcending generational gaps.

A quarter to seven, I found myself treading the paths towards the Academy Museum’s David Geffen Theater, known to many Angelenos as the Death Star attached to the former May Company Building. A grand 952-seat, velvet-laced, Dolby-equipped movie palace with the decadence of the Grauman theaters on Hollywood Blvd. A fusion of the early 20th century and the luxury of modern film technology. It is, without a doubt, my favorite place to see a movie in Los Angeles, and this night was no exception. Walking up the ruby red stairs into the auditorium as a staff of ushers guided me to the available seats (of which there were hardly any), I peered over the crowd to see Rocky Horror fans of all ages, races, and gender expressions. I would later learn that I was seated two rows behind legendary Rocky Horror stars Barry Bostwick, Patricia Quinn, and Nell Campbell, with Tim Curry joining later in the wheelchair row ahead of them.

The 50th anniversary presentation both commemorated the half-century preceding it and ushered in the world premiere of a new 4K Dolby Restoration, which was undeniably gorgeous in its lush colors and new, satisfyingly crisp Atmos mix that remained true to the original. Twenty-five minutes after the start time, preceding the screening, the presenter from the museum anxiously brought out Tim Curry (79!) for a Q&A. Curry put his timeless charm on full display and captured the essence of Rocky Horror’s magic. To paraphrase Tim: “(The film) gave people permission to behave as badly as they desire.” 

Following the Q&A’s poignant reflection of the past 50 years of Rocky Horror, LA’s very own Sins O’ The Flesh took over, skillfully capturing the audience of nearly 1,000.  They were an incredible shadowcast, blocked perfectly to the brand new and much larger context of the Geffen (the Nuart only seats 303), with fantastic tech and an all-new light package tailored specifically for the theater. Prop kits were used, callouts were shouted, songs were sung, and a lovely time was had.

At 50, it’s hard to overstate the impact the Rocky Horror Picture Show experience has had on pop culture. Widely and rightfully regarded as the greatest cult film of all time, it has been and remains a shining star in the queer, transgender, and weirdo communities. Its absurdity provides a space in which these marginalized groups thrive. An exploration of identity as wacky as it is important, Rocky Horror imparts an integral central message: it is okay to be who you are. It welcomes all without judgment.

Here’s to another 50 years of queer representation and liberation on film, midnight screenings with boisterous, good-natured energy, and time warps.