The Rocky Horror Picture Show at Dominion Theatre

Upon approaching the Dominion Theatre, you get the impression that this crowd aren’t here to see The Devil Wears Prada. In fact, despite the sheer number of high heels on the pavement, this crowd puts that musical’s catwalk to shame. It’s a sea of sparkly suits, painted pale faces, pearl necklaces over medical scrubs, and fish-net stockings galore. The occasion? 50 years since the release of Jim Sharman and Richard O’Brien’s kitsch cult musical classic The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

With the audience given paper bags filled with esoteric “gifts” for use during the screening (newspapers, glow sticks, and rubber gloves – if you know, you know), we are ushered into the auditorium for a Rocky Horror tradition. Brushed off by critics in 1975, the film adaptation gained notoriety for recurring midnight screenings, with its fans – much like the musical’s Frankenstein-parodied “plot” – bringing a phenomenon to life. It’s been embraced across the world ever since, and now it’s been revamped (with emphasis on the vamp) in 4K.

Our host Larry Viezel, head of the Rocky Horror fan club, quickly runs the devotees and uninitiated (“virgins”) through the rules – of which there are effectively none. In a preamble, costumed audience members are judged by the film’s original “Columbia” Nell Campbell. Shortly after, Viezel is joined by the cast members for a brief trip down memory lane. After 50 years, Campbell, Patricia Quinn (Magenta), Barry Bostwick (Brad Majors), and – in a very rare appearance – Peter Hinwood (Rocky) have lost none of their irreverence and affection toward the roles.

However, the real treat of this event is the audience. Despite the playful “shadow cast” acting out the whole film underneath the screen, it’s the seated devotees who truly entertain. Their apparent “love-hate” for Rocky Horror is infectious – one moment filthily adlibbing when the on-screen characters pause, or pointing out continuity mistakes with sheer glee. It’s an anarchic experience, with many antics and insults this reviewer can’t put into print – especially concerning poor Susan Sarandon, the film’s dubious damsel-in-distress.

As someone who had never seen The Rocky Horror Picture Show, this event did more than hint at its enduring appeal. The glam-rock musical creation is unabashedly bonkers and transgressive, but, by being so, it gives permission to passionately indulge in any identity, space or kink. This anniversary convention perfectly reflects the empowering sentiment sung by the film’s magnetic lead, the incomparably seductive Tim Curry: “Don’t dream it, be it.”