At the climax of The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975) the late Tim Curry as Dr Frank N Furter stands dressed to the nines in corset and heels, gloves and furs. His face is made up with the pouting lips and pencil brows of a Golden Era Hollywood starlet. With a flourish, he jumps into a swimming pool below. Drenched and floating in a life-ring, he sings, half to himself:
“Don’t dream it, be it.”
This line became a manifesto, the cornerstone of every ritual and tradition that would come to grow around the film. Rocky Horror has a record-long run of screening unbroken for 50 years – a Portland cinema even screened it to empty rooms during COVID lockdowns to keep the streak going. For generations, attending a screening of Rocky Horror gives acolytes full license to let their freak flags fly: to dress in outrageous makeup and costumes, throw rice, bread or water at the screen, and drown out the dialogue with crass jokes that are not only permitted but expected. Sequins and fishnets, of course, are a staple.
Loose Willis connects the riotous space that Rocky Horror screenings create to the rituals of Halloween, and what they are able to spark in people. A drag king, producer and costume maker, he directs and stars as Frank N Furter in ‘Queer Horror Nights’ shadow cast screenings of Rocky Horror at the Rio Cinema in Dalston.
“I think Halloween is often people’s first opportunities to try on a persona outside their usual self,” he tells me. “It’s often people’s first time doing drag – you’ll meet drag performers who say their first experience was putting a wig and lipstick on for Halloween.”
He sees that message clearly in Dr Frank N Furter’s iconic line. “Don’t be stifled and frustrated by what life has told you that you should be allowed to do,” he explains. “Who could you be if you could be anything?”
Token Homo, creator and host of ‘Queer Horror Nights’, agrees. “If Halloween is a form of carnival, where rules are inverted, then Rocky Horror is the ultimate invitation to switch things up.” Their upcoming Halloween screening sold out as soon as news broke that Tim Curry had passed away, and he expects to get emotional on the night. ‘We have so much to thank him for.”
Conversely, in the 30 years that the Prince Charles Cinema has been screening Rocky Horror, owner Ben Freedman has never dressed up for the film – but that hardly matters. He believes strongly in the communal power of the cinema. “What we do is give people a place to share their love of something with other people.” For Ben, shifting the screening time to an earlier 8:30pm and gently introducing punters to the world of Rocky Horror with a pre-show warm up allows everyone to feel welcome, whether they’ve come as Tim Curry or as themselves.
But what would Halloween be without a good scare? An homage to old B Horror and sci-fi, Rocky Horror draws a parallel between lowbrow guilty pleasures and erotic sins of the flesh by smearing together their plots like lipstick.
And so the story will be familiar even to the uninitiated. Two straight-laced youngsters, Brad and Janet (Barry Bostwick and Susan Sarandon), are driving through a storm when their car breaks down, forcing them to seek refuge and a telephone at a sinister old castle. What they discover within its walls blows their understanding of the world apart: a mad scientist building a creature from old parts (Peter Hinwood), a reanimated corpse (Meat Loaf), aliens from outer space (Richard O’Brien and Patricia Quinn). And, of course, as Vito Russo writes in The Celluloid Closet, a host of ‘lesbians, transvestites, acid freaks and goons who sing rock and roll.’
“I don’t want to say it’s for the scaredy cats, but it’s a lot less depressing than a straight up slasher,” Freedman tells me. “It’s the fun end of what might be considered horror.”
And he understands that better than most. “As a customer, I don’t like horror,” he admits. “If I want to be scared, I’ll go and cycle in central London.” That doesn’t stop the Prince Charles Cinema from screening back-to-back horror movies throughout the month of October, but it might explain why their Halloween Rocky Horror screenings are the season’s crowning jewel.
Token Homo, who organises queer and cult film screenings across London, is not so sure. Last year, his ‘Bar Trash’ film series screened a full season of 31 films exploring Rocky Horror’s many inspirations and legacies. For him, it’s not just camp and spooky; it homages the inherent queerness of the films it plays on.
“Rather than a catch-all for LGBTQIA+, I see ‘queer’ as a disruptive aesthetic like punk,” he explains. “It’s about creating alternative culture outside of – and often scorned by! – the mainstream whilst re-using elements of that mainstream to radical effect.”
He names Edward D. Wood Jr as an example, a director whose low-budget science fiction films like Glen or Glenda(1953) and Plan 9 From Outer Space (1957) had a palpable influence on Rocky Horror. ‘There is something absolutely queer about his films — and so many other B-movies — that transcends the ideas of ‘good’ or ‘bad’. They are accessible to queer audiences because they don’t play by ‘normal’ rules. Rocky Horror absolutely drinks from the same cup.”
On Halloween, we celebrate the breaking of rules. Whilst Halloween partygoers will dress as anything at all, there is a traditional focus on choosing scary costumes. Whether that’s through plastic vampire teeth or a nylon witch’s hat, we celebrate the monstrous and the evil. In Rocky Horror, Frank is undoubtedly evil – but he’s also the star, and we root for him.
Loose Willis admits this attitude has inspired his own drag persona outside the shadow cast screenings. “You’re going to do what I say on my terms or you’re going to be in huge trouble,” is how he puts it. “As a drag king people often expect to be smaller or more shy because often we are FLINTA people,” he explains. Subverting that expectation can create a magnetic performance, one offset by Loose’s flair for the glam. Drawing inspiration from heavy metal, professional wrestling and video games, his costumes are sparkly, downright pretty, but unmistakably masculine.
“I always like having an element of glamour in my looks that sits on top of something dirtier and a bit more evil, and I think that’s Frank in a nutshell,” he adds.
As Loose Willis and Token Homo gear up for their first Halloween without Tim Curry, their ambition is to keep the Rocky Horror spirit alive by constructing something new. “Our approach is revival and reverence,” explains Token Homo, “but also an attempt to keep Rocky Horror radical. We cast experienced queer cabaret performers in our shadow cast to amplify that raw, queer, punk, rock and roll attitude.”
And like the screenings at The Prince Charles, all are welcome. “Our show is just as much about the audience as it is about our cast and the film,” says Token Homo. With a costume, kink and fetish-friendly dress code, the screening invites people to “be themselves in the darkness” – though “streetwear is fine too”– with a place to change for anyone nervous about travelling in their finery.
So, if you happen to pass the Rio Cinema or The Prince Charles this Halloween night, keep an eye out. You might spot that carnival spirit of the Rocky Horror spilling out into the streets, alive and well in the heart of London. And if you’re inspired to watch it for the first time alone, my recommendation is this: grab a few friends, google the audience participation rituals and make a night of it. Because, like Halloween, Rocky Horror is better when it’s shared together.
