The Rocky Horror Show made its stage debut upstairs at London’s Royal Court Theatre in 1973, but here in Australia, there’s a sense of national pride in its stubborn, decades-long success: we claim it as our own.
It’s a fair shout: Jim Sharman, who ushered in a new era of musicals with his influential Australian productions of Hair and Jesus Christ Superstar in the 70s, directed its first outing. He also later directed the 1975 film adaptation, which he also co-wrote with O’Brien, as well as its sequel, Shock Treatment.
The stage and screen productions were designed by Sharman’s frequent collaborator, the Tony and Helpmann-award-winning – and Kylie Minogue tour-designing – Brian Thomson. And then, of course, there’s Australian Nell Campell, AKA Little Nell, who originated the role of Columbia on both stage and screen, tap dancing her way into the nation’s heart.
But 50 years is a long time to be a rebel, and our old girl, which lovingly spoofs B-movies to tell the story of a conservative couple crashing a sexy, Frankenstein-y party (hosted by aliens – look, you’re there for the vibe, not for narrative integrity) has some creaky bones. We’re so far now from midnight musical showtimes, once stacked with lively, raunchy audiences of repeat attenders: this 50th anniversary tour, directed by Christopher Luscombe, kicked off its opening night in Sydney at a downright sensible 7pm.
The creakiness is hard to avoid: it partly comes down to the natural passage of time. Its ribald, provocative language hasn’t changed with the culture around it and has become outdated. The show’s most passionate fanbase has aged alongside the show, and with such an ardent crowd of built-in fans, there’s less creative hunger to change the formula and try to find genuine subversion in the sexual liberation of the fishnets-and-garters variety – let alone any appetite to look too closely at our growing and increasingly nuanced understanding of gender fluidity and performance.
This production is also carrying some new psychic scars. This is the first time Rocky Horror has toured nationally since 2014, a production which resulted in a series of allegations of sexual assault and misconduct against Craig McLachlan, who denied the claims and was acquitted of indecent assault charges in 2020.
Given all of this, can we still have fun?
Mostly, yes. More lived-in, naturally, than the revival’s first Sydney season in February 2023, there’s a joyful ease and a dash of playfulness that keeps the cast energised – and had its opening night audience erupt in a series of swept-up cheers after every number.
The show’s narrator is a critical part of setting the tone: they encourage the audience to scream and clap, and must volley with the audience participation, which started at cult film screenings and crossed over to the stage. When a narrator can rev up the energy, it can jolt the show with new life.
This production has already played host to a string of narrators, including Spicks and Specks’ Myf Warhurst, The Sound of Music’s Nicholas Hammond and comedian Joel Creasey; fellow comic Pete Helliar will take on the role from 18 April. Right now, however, Dylan Alcott is in the role, and the Golden Slam tennis star is a welcome surprise.
Many stunt-cast athletes are a gritted-teeth bumbling spectacle, but Alcott has a witty and likable stage presence and can lob back heckles with easy one-liners – and gets a few good extra jokes in too. We’re in good hands.
As Brad and Janet, Blake Bowden and Deidre Khoo are a well-matched pair: both actors have a wink-and-nudge approach to their most earnest scenes that makes their later adventures feel like an inevitability. Darcy Eagle adds a manic-edged vulnerability to Columbia that, even in this briskly paced production (this musical doesn’t allow for a millisecond of dead air), feels earned.
Henry Rollo just about walks away with the show as Riff-Raff – putting the rock back into a musical that can’t stop singing about rock’n’roll. Richard Hartley’s original musical arrangements sound bombastic here and, coupled with Nick Richings’ lighting design, keeps the party going.
And then there’s Jason Donovan. With a little sweetness and a lot of flirtation, the one-time Neighbours heart-throb tackles Frank-N-Furter with a performance that plays just enough homage to Tim Curry’s now-iconic film performance to hit the familiar beats the audience seemed to crave, but adds enough of himself to keep things fresh.
Seeing this production again, it’s hard to not to think about what might be in new creative hands – what new depth, commentary or provocation we could find in the show if we could interrogate it from new queer and trans perspectives, with an approach that challenged the conservative sexual mores and moral panics we’re facing in 2024, especially with transphobia on the rise in Australia and abroad.
But this production, like Frank, is just here to bring something back to life, built to specifications, made for pleasure and companionship. Viewing this production through the lens of what it is, and not what we might wish it could be, the best thing about it is the sense that Frank and his otherworldly companions are in cahoots with us. When they break the fourth wall to blow kisses or make faces at us, it’s a reminder that we are awake and alive, too; it lets us feel like we’re also a little bit sexy, fun and exciting. That’s not bad for 7pm on a Wednesday.
The Rocky Horror Show is on at Theatre Royal Sydney until 12 May
