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 …