Thursday, October 30, ,1986
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By Stew Magnuson
Staff Reporter
My parent's generation spent its
high school years crowded around a
turntable listening to Elvis. The
next generation spent hours taking
drugs and zonking out to psyche
delic music. I spent my high school week
end nights watching a film about a
"Sweet transvestite from Transsex
ual Transylvania," and tossing rolls
of toilet paper and slices of toast at
the screen.
The movie was "The Rocky Horror
Picture Show," the movie that de
fined the term "cult film." Every
weekend at midnight, my friends
and I would gather at the now
defunct Admiral Theatre in Omaha
and take part in a film that we
thought was so ridiculous that heck
ling and throwing things at the
screen only seemed natural. I saw
the movie weekend after weekend,
dozens of times.
"The Rocky Horror Picture Show"
is a musical spoof of the "mad
scientist makes a monster" movies.
Tim Curry plays the flaming homo
sexual mad scientist Dr. Frank N.
Furter who, instead of an ugly mons
ter, creates a blonde-haired Adonis
for a sexual plaything. Susan Saran
don and Barry Bostwick play Brad
and Janet, the wholesome American
couple who have a flat tire outside
of Dr. Frank N. Furter's mansion.
Richard O'Brien wrote the script
and music and also plays Riff Raff,
Dr. Frank N. Furter's hunchback
assistant.
But the movie itself was only half
of the entertainment at The Admiral
Theatre. When the lights went down
in the theatre, total mayhem erupted.
At the opening marriage scene, eve
ryone in the back rows got out bags
of rice and pelted everyone in the
front row. Later in the movie, when
Brad and Janet walked through the
rain with newspapers over their
heads, the audience mimicked them
and got out squirt guns and sprayed
the aisles with water.
Yelling obscenities at the narra
tor was customary. Hearing his words
was impossible. Throwing rolls of
toilet paper when Dr. Scott appeared
was tradition along with throwing
toast when Frank N. Furter pro
posed a toast at the dinner table.
"The Rocky Horror Picture Show"
became the first film in the history
of cinema in which the audience
participated. The audience sang
along to the words, talked back to
the characters and got out of their
seats to do "The Time Warp," the
big dance number. Some people
even dressed up as the characters
and played out roles in front of the
screen.
Yes, those were fun nights in high
school. When I came down to Lin
coln for my freshman year, I disco
vered that the Plaza 4 showed Rocky
Horror every weekend as a midnight
movie as well. But a sign outside the
velvet ropes warned me away.
"No squirt guns or water.
No throwing of objects."
"No fun allowed" was what the
sign seemed to read. The manage
ment seemed to be discouraging
half the fun of the movie, so I never
went back to "The Rocky Horror
Picture Show" for another five years.
Last Friday I returned. The sign
discouraging throwing of objects
was no longer there. I went in with
all my friends and got nostalgic for
Daily Nebraskcin
my high school days.
Some things had changed. Years
of "no objects being thrown" and
"no squirt guns" had subdued the
crowd. When it rained on the screen,
it didn't rain in the theatre. Some
rice was thrown, but no more rolls of
toilet paper on slices of toast. But
faithful Rocky Horror fans still acted
out the scenes in front of the stage.
A hardcore group had a retort for
every line and situation in the
movie.
When Dr. Frank N. Furter started
swimming in a pool, one hardcore
fan in the front yelled,
"Hey waiter, there's a transvest
ite in my soup!"
The hardcore fans up front kept
the excitement going. Most of the
audience seemed content to sit
back and be entertained by these
weekendmidnight actors. When the
time came for everyone to get up out
of their seats and do the Time Warp,
most of the audience stayed in the
cushy seats.
I was disappointed in the lack of
audience participation. But by the
end of the film, I had a new appreci
ation for the film itself. When I was
younger, I thought it was just a bad
flick made better by throwing things
at opportune times, but now I can
appreciate what writer Richard
O'Brien was trying to spoof. The
musical numbers are catchy and the
lyrics are clever. What I thought was
just plain bad acting, I now see as
contrived campiness.
I might go back to see "The
Rocky Horror Picture Show" soon.
And with cold weather arriving, it's
all the easier to hide squirt guns,
toilet paper and toast in a bulky
winter coat.
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Page 9
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