Rocky Virgin says show was "better than sex," but was it really that good or are they simply going through a dry spell? REVIEW: Rocky Horror 2025
PSA: This review contains foul language, as well as language and memes of a suggestive/sexual nature. But, you know, I am writing about The Rocky Horror Picture Show, so... NSFW comes with the terrritory.
I fear it was a mistake to send me in to review this
production – during the pre-show games, when the Rocky Virgins were asked if
they’d ever fantasised about having sex with one of the characters, my hand
shot up so unabashedly fast, the writer from The Saint sitting next to me burst
out laughing.
That should’ve been my first sign that watching the show and
taking notes would prove too much for my poor, little, gay brain to handle, so
please don’t ask me the colour of ANYTHING; I only managed to take four pages of notes. If I had a clip of Rocky pretend-whimpering sadly, I'd insert it here.
Well… I remember there being golden, spandex shorts, black hold-ups, and… a massive, pink, blow-up penis.
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| The Stuffed Turkey's View During The Feast Scene |
Pivoting back to the pre-show antics before I get carried away: the virgins' costume and orgasm-noise contest winner was Sexy Voldemort (duh); unfortunately, Dr Frank N. Furter did not win the vets' bra-condom Blow Me contest, but he'll forever be the most well-hung in my heart.
I loved that the audience wasn't afraid to heckle the cast, and the crew's additional heckles really made the moment. I was in bits.
I was simply obsessed with the entire cast from curtain draw to close – the dancers had me mesmerised; Brad’s gormless yet fuckable wet-sock demeanour unfortunately reminded me of my favourite ex, but before I had the chance to text him “where my dick at?” all thoughts flew from my brain as I was left utterly hypnotised by Dr Frank N. Furter, and those legs, traipsing down the stairs mere feet from me; and, the way this show's Rocky came with his own idle animations (hitting body-builder poses) programmed in – no notes. Don't ask me why, because I couldn't explain it if I tried, but something about Rocky’s entire essence gave old-school Arnold Schwarzenegger crossed with Prince Charming from Shrek to me.
I hope the costumers got their flowers
because they deserve their asses ATE for the way they dressed the cast. Every
single one of them looked phenomenal, and I felt like a kid in a candy shop... or Alex the Lion in that scene
from Madagascar where everyone turned into steaks… yeah. Kudos to all of
y’all, and to the casting team for making the best casting choices since Sunrise
on The Reaping.
However, it was the way – from where I was sitting and only
if you really looked closely – you could see how the actors didn’t actually
kiss during the scene, as well as other easily missed simulated sexual acts
that highlighted to me how much care went into ensuring the actors felt
comfortable and safe on stage, and their boundaries respected. It was the only
time it was ‘obviously’ noticeable to me, and only because I was actively
looking at the choreography, but I’m not pointing it out in a “ha, ha, gotcha!”
kind of way, proving the theatre magic didn’t fool me, and I certainly do not want it to
be read as a failing – I think this kind of creativity in the intimacy coordinator and choreographers' approach is to be commended.
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| The "elevator" |
But then it comes as no surprise to me when the rest of the
production team was equally creative in bringing the show to life – the props
were giving Poundland realness, the costumes – specifically Rocky’s padded
muscle suit – were gaggy, and the various modes of transportation made entirely
of actors… I was on the floor. The show was so good, I couldn't even bring myself to pay attention to the no. 1 loml, Tim Curry in drag, on the screen.
The cast and crew deserved every hooting and hollering second of that standing ovation.
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| I snuck a pic, pls don't be mad xoxo |