At the end of The Rocky Horror Picture Show, house-servant-turned-space-commander Riff Raff threatens the sequinned-and-fishnetted Dr. Frank-N-Furter with a laser trident and yells, “Say goodbye to all of this, and hello to oblivion.”
And that might have been the same attitude of the executives at 20th Century Fox Studios in 1975 as Rocky Horror bombed at the box office despite the international success of the musical it’s based on. Made with a paltry budget of $1.4 million, the execs probably figured they could sweep it under the rug, and it would all be quickly forgotten. Forty years later, Rocky Horror holds the record of the longest running theatrical release in film history. Fans still gather at screenings, donning outrageous costumes ready to shout at Brad Majors (Asshole!) and Janet Weiss (Slut!) and toting props to follow along with the movie. On Oct. 25, Boulder Theater will screen Rocky Horror accompanied by Denver’s longest running shadowcast, Colorado’s Elusive Ingredient.
It’s hard to pinpoint what makes the film so iconic — the music, the costumes, Tim Curry? Or maybe it’s the motivational message sung by Frank-N-Furter, “Don’t dream it, be it.” Manager and emcee for Colorado’s Elusive Ingredient Andrew Altman calls bullshit.
“I think the ‘Don’t dream it, be it’ thing is a joke. It’s a farce. I think it’s crap people have tried to catch on to to find meaning in something that wasn’t intended to have it,” Altman says. “‘Don’t dream it, be it’ was a sales slogan that [Rocky Horror’s creator] Richard O’Brien saw in a news magazine in the early ’70s, and he liked the line and incorporated it into a song.”
The film itself is a wink to the audience, flipping modern conventions and playing off of expectations. At face value, O’Brien’s creation is a camp masterpiece that nods to the B movies that came before it. Drenched in rock ‘n’ roll, the story is inappropriate and macabre, starring a bisexual, transvestite knock-off of Dr. Frankenstein. It’s rampant with sexuality and calls for surrender to passion. All of which is why Altman calls the show cathartic.
Perfect in all its imperfections, Rocky Horror has the legacy of giving birth to the cult film. A big middle finger to corporate Hollywood success, the film was carried and sustained by those who really love it: the fans. A film wouldn’t stay in the theaters for 40 years without people going to see it again and again — along with introducing it to friends and passing it down to younger generations. Altman, who’s been attending screenings since the late ’80s and performing in the show since the early ’90s, figures he’s seen it a few thousand times. The film continues to be championed by a mob of dedicated fans, and it has created a community of followers from every walk of life.
“Rocky has always, in the crowd and in the cast, attracted socially maladroit, the awkward, the ‘I don’t fit in with other people…’” Altman says. “It’s mostly finding an outlet for your proclivities and a level of acceptance.”
It has served as a home for the flamboyant and strange, welcoming anyone to join its rank and inviting its audience to let loose. Whether you’re a virgin like Brad, Janet and Rocky, or a veteran like Columbia, Magenta and Riff Raff — no one is safe from the seduction of The Rocky Horror Picture Show.
ON THE BILL: The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Sunday, Oct. 25, 8 p.m. Boulder Theater, 2032 14th St., Boulder, 303-786-7030.
