The virgins were marked on the forehead with a red letter “V.”
Later, they would be singled out to pledge their allegiance in a bizarre weekly ritual that has been taking place nearly every Saturday night since 1986. But I’ll come back to that…
By all accounts, it was a typical Saturday night outside the Nuart Theater. Moviegoers dressed as mad scientist transvestites and hunchbacked butlers waited excitedly under the marquee. A faint smell of marijuana hung in the air over Santa Monica Blvd.
At precisely 11 p.m., a security guard—wearing a utility vest adorned in Black Lives Matter and rainbow patches—unlocked the door and welcomed us to The Rocky Horror Picture Show.
You should know upfront this isn’t your standard retro flick. It’s part rock opera, part costume party, and part communal ritual.
For nearly 40 years, the shadow cast Sins o’ the Flesh has accompanied the film with props, callbacks, and playful live interpretations of the action on screen. “Virgins” are first-time witnesses to the live-action version of Richard O’Brien‘s 1975 cult musical.
The volunteer group has around fifty members ranging in age from late teens to nearly 50. On any given Saturday, about twenty will perform along with the movie. Many work in the entertainment industry in stage combat, immersive theatre, video editing, voice acting, and animation.
“I think we occupy a very interesting space, being kind of this club party scene,” said Austin Fresh, one of the cast leads, who also works as a cheese monger.
Fresh said people keep coming to the show for the ritual and repetition. “It’s the reason why so much community exists on this planet, it’s why religions that sing and dance do well. You get up, you dance, you are with your family. It becomes church in many ways.”
As I stood in line for the concession stand, Riff Raff, Dr. Frank-N-Furter’s balding butler, wiped the counter and glared at the attendees suspiciously. Customers bought drinks with straws shaped like the iconic red lips on the movie poster.
With the crowd pumped from pre-show dance music, Frank-N-Furter, played by Tim Curry in the movie, took the stage in a black sleeveless t-shirt that read “Protect Bad Drag” and black fishnet stockings.
The good doctor went over the rules (no smoking/vaping, throw your prop kit items up and back, etc.) and asked everyone to stand. People who’d seen the movie fifty times or more could sit, then those who’d seen it at least ten times, then at least 5 times, until only the “virgins” remained standing.
Frank had the virgins take their pledge: “I [state your name] pledge allegiance to the lips of the Rocky Horror Picture Show and to the decadence for which they stand…”
Earlier, Fresh had given me some tips for “virgins”: “I think it is definitely good to just absorb what it is. It’s so much input all at once. Participation can be prop kit, participation can be getting up to dance, participation can be knowing every callback. I think being here is inherently participating.”
Good to know. It’d been so long since I’d seen Rocky Horror live. I wasn’t sure what to do but I already felt the non-judgmental, communal vibe.
“Much like the real thing, you know, relax, be open, and it’ll be okay,” Fresh said.
As for costumes, Fresh said dress as if you were going to a party or concert. Fans often dress as characters but whatever makes you comfortable works. “You can wear anything and everything—or almost lack thereof as well.”
Frank asked for four volunteers—consent is paramount in the Rocky Horror world—and brought them to the stage. He sent them on an in-house scavenger hunt. The volunteers scurried about to find the items and the winner got some cast stickers.
The movie started to raucous applause. With the shadow cast playing along with the action on the stage below the screen and ushers on both sides yelling out synchronized jokes, it’s like watching the movie, already a busy visual feast, in 4-D with a biting commentary track.
In the movie, soon the naïve young couple Janet and Brad find themselves stranded with a flat tire on a dark and stormy night and seek shelter in a mysterious castle. When Janet, played by Susan Sarandon appears, everyone yelled “slut!”; when Brad, played by Barry Bostwick, appears, “asshole!”
Soon it was time to pull out the prop kit sold in the lobby. We all put a newspaper page over our heads like Janet as she shields herself from the rain. “Buy an umbrella, you cheap bitch!” yelled out the ushers and scattered audience members. We all waved our glow sticks when Janet and Brad sing, “There’s a light, over at the Frankenstein place.”
Everyone jumped up to do the “Time Warp,” maybe the most well-known song from the movie. People were laughing as some knew the dance well and others tried to learn in real-time within the cramped rows.
We snapped our rubber gloves along with Dr. Frank-N-Furter when he gives his creation speech about the titular Rocky. At the speech’s end, we all blew our noisemakers along with the freaky denizens of the castle celebrating on screen.
Frank-N-Furter chasing Rocky up and down the aisles added to the joyous chaos. Everyone quickly blew up their balloons and popped them when Janet orgasms with Rocky. This is after she and Brad each already cheated on each other with the conniving Frank-N-Furter in a scene hilariously exaggerated on stage. Anything goes in the Frankenstein Place.
At opportune moments, a cast member hoisted a large plywood phallus toward the screen, creating suggestive shadows poking at various characters for extra laughs.
Fresh was right—seeing Rocky Horror with a shadow cast is a lot of input but in the best way. If you’re somewhat familiar with the movie, you can focus on the shadow cast and their inventive interpretations of the action on screen. Or listen to the ushers and audience members with their deftly timed quips and callbacks.
Super-fans may even consider a road trip to Vegas in 2027 when an immersive version of the film debuts at The Sphere.
The movie ends with the criminologist saying, humans are “lost in time, and lost in space…and meaning.” Maybe. But for about two hours we were lost in the communal chaos of this enduring tradition together.