THE ROCKY HORROR PICTURE SHOW (1975) | Dir: Jim Sharman. The brainchild of Richard O’Brien who blended Busby Berkley-style musical numbers with Sci-Fi, fantasy, horror, comedy and comic book style, ROCKY HORROR had been playing for a decade in midnight shows all over the country by the time I first saw it in a small 2-screen theater in Monroe, North Carolina. It was summer, I was 15, and went to the midnight show with my friend Chris. We were both working a summer job re-finishing high school gym floors. I was surrounded by guys all day who casually tossed out homophobic, sexist and racist comments. Chris and I were the arty guys. Chris played in rock bands and liked Human League and Devo. Despite his queer sensibility, I knew Chris was straight, so talking about my own burgeoning queerness did not seem like a real option. It was Chris’s idea to go see the film and I remember it as my introduction to one branch of Queer Culture. I sat in the theater surrounded by a small group of misfits, dressing up like every day is a Halloween party, together in the dark yelling at the movie screen while Tim Curry, Susan Sarandon, Barry Bostwick and Meat Loaf delighted us with a rather tame tale of sex, drugs and rock and roll. What the film lacks in subtlety (check out the shape of Rocky’s Pommel horse), it more than makes up for in shameless camp and (dare I say it) heart. When I look back, I remember this as my personal lowest point— the summer of gym floors. THE ROCKY HORROR PICTURE SHOW saved my life. It said, You’re here, you’re queer, get used to it, at the exact moment I needed to hear it. It was a baby step, but one with fabulous heels.
