Playwright: book. music and lyrics by Richard O'Brien
At: Stage Two Theatre at the Estonian House in Lincolnshire
Phone: (847) 432-7469; $18-$22
Runs through: Aug. 9
There are actually TWO Rocky Horrors nowadays: first, Richard O'Brien's 1974 rock-and-roll musical-fantasy, and second, the
audience-participation phenomenon—predominantly snide comments on the dialogue and mimicry of the onscreen action—arising
spontaneously at early showings of the film version and continuing to this day.
As with the recent New York revival, this Stage Two production recreates both the Rocky Horror Show and the Rocky Horror
Experience, the latter facilitated by 'prop kits' for sale to playgoers, with the onstage chorus supplying the smartass interjections—an
annoyance easily ignored by first-timers trying to follow the plot (and since this is LIVE theatre, the actors are able to defend
themselves). More disruptive were the problems engendered by the borrowed amplification equipment on opening night, making for
incidents of faltering voice-mikes and feedback scream in Stage Two's cabinlike space.
A certain thrift-shop ambiance has always characterized this show's decor, however. Rocky Horror's success rests not on
technical expertise, but a promotion of hedonism and self-fulfillment conveyed with sufficient intensity to transcend its (shocking in
1974, ho-hum in 2003) ambisexual aesthetic. In the role of 'sweet transvestite' Dr. Frank-N-Furter, Joel E. Hoover bumps, winks and
struts in his high-heeled ruby slippers to generate an infectious charm, while Matt Smulski's Riff Raff 'keeps control' (as his song
proclaims), assisted by Jillian Miller's Magenta (wearing an accent like eating an ice-cream cone). Innocence is represented by
Shawn Quinlan as the naive Rocky, and Corruption, by j Scott in a triplex performance as the doomed Eddie, the smug Doctor Scott,
and our nameless no-nonsense guide.
Director/choreographer Stephen M. Genovese coaxes the best from his low-budget environment and ingenuous cast. But what
triumphs in the end is O'Brien's exhortation—encapsulated in the mantra, 'Don't dream it. Be it.'—to pursue our happiness and to
fight those who would deny it.
Seventies' excess may have given way to more cautious interpretations of that rallying cry, but the legacy of Rocky Horror's
deceptively frivolous sermon is evident in our society today. So let's dance the Time Warp again.
A jump to the left, then a step to the right ...