I had the joy of attending the Campus Activities Board’s showing of “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” earlier this month. After a night of rice slinging, newspaper hat-wearing and profanity-shouting fun, it’s no wonder that Lou Adler’s take on the B-movie horror genre has become such an enduring cult classic and Halloween staple.
The cult following for this movie is unlike anything I’ve seen, even as someone familiar with many other cult fandoms. As anyone who has been to a “Rocky Horror” screening can tell you, it is different than most film experiences out there. At my screening, about half of attendees were clearly seasoned “Rocky Horror” veterans, and it didn’t take long for the callbacks to start.
For those who are not aware, a “Rocky Horror” show is far more than simply sitting down and watching the movie. Almost from the start of its several-decades-long run in theaters, callbacks were established among the fandom. While all of us newbies were caught off guard at first, it didn’t take long for us all to join in and pick up the new songs and lines along the way; that is the beauty of a “Rocky Horror” screening. More than being a simple showing, it is a community experience where everyone takes part in the fun.
It would be a disservice to the legacy of the film to stop there. It is impossible to tell the story of this movie without exploring what it means for the LGBTQ+ community, which started its cult following in the first place. Despite much of the language and depictions of the film being problematic when viewed through a modern lens, the movie was made by queer people for queer people. The liberatory tone of Tim Curry’s Dr. Frank-N-Furter struck a chord with queer audiences then, and still strikes that same chord today.
Beyond connecting with queer audiences, the midnight screenings of “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” gave queer people an opportunity to be openly and unapologetically themselves in a society that often would not accept them. Cosplaying became just as much a part of a screening as the callbacks. While cosplaying began mostly as dressing up like the fishnet-clad characters from the movie, it soon turned into an opportunity for moviegoers to express themselves and experiment with gender expression. Clearly, those who might ostracize anyone daring such expression would never dream of attending a screening, which led to these events becoming a safe space for queer people in an era that desperately needed them.
This is the secret behind the film’s continued success, and why it remains a staple of queer communities today. Midnight screenings of “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” create not just safe spaces, but liberating spaces where people are not only accepted but celebrated. The foundation of many queer friend groups and circles is undoubtedly laid at these screenings and the callbacks passed down through generations. “Rocky Horror” is about far more than queer expression; it has become a symbol of queer liberation and community.
