The ultimate queer cult musical returns in this touring production following last year’s West End run at the Dominion Theatre. Guillermo Nazara shares his views on the show, to let us know if its latest embodiment flaunts any toucha, toucha, touches of brilliance.
It’s astounding. Time is fleeting. Madness takes its toll… Well, we can talk about that later. Because, trust me, we do need to talk about that later. But I wouldn’t like to open my review with that line. Well, actually, I already have… It’s alright – just forget everything I’ve said before… Oh, wait, no, I wouldn’t like that, would I? Then again, what have I really said so far…?
Okay, let’s go for the real thing now. It’s been 50 years since we were first introduced to the camp wonders of Rocky Horror. Born into the confined space of the Royal Court’s studio stage, it wouldn’t take long for this utmost queer icon of a musical to go from velvet darkness to sweep the world – as audiences gave themselves over to the pleasure of celebrating the difference, and not giving an absolute f*ck of what others might think.
My initial interaction with the piece came in the form of the movie. I had watched just a few snippets – where a flamboyant Tim Curry asserted his dominance by twirling his hair and flaunting his patent-leather high heels. I had no idea what was going on. But I knew I liked it – in that odd, instinctive way only the rarest, most unique works of art can do. Unaware of its plot, I could tell it depicted a universe I wanted to be part of – maybe because it already was. After all, I, too, had been making a man with blond hair a tan when playing The Sims.
Following last year’s West End run at the Dominion Theatre, Christopher Luscombe’s take on Richard O’Brien’s cult classic has settled in Richmond this week – in the middle of an exhaustive UK tour featuring a few international stops along the way. Reuniting old fans, and inviting newcomers, to its explosive array of sci-fi-themed glam, the production oozes the vibrant energy of the original material’s free spirit. But as much as its hot groin and triceps are in the right place, me-thinks that the Sword of Damocles is hanging over its head.
I see you shiver with antici-pation. And that may be, in fact, the longest pause you’ll hear in this performance. It is incredibly rushed. We have the full script. We have the complete repertoire. What we don’t seem to have is enough time to let the piece (or the actors) breathe. This latest version of Rocky Horror appears to suffer from the same malady long-standing Broadway and West End shows have been spreading across for decades: a mechanic execution where flow and naturalness are strictly prohibited.
Yes, the audience interaction moments are all there. But apart from some occasional back-and-forth with the Narrator, there’s almost no difference, in this aspect, from what you’d get at a screening of the film. It feels too calibrated – leaving no room for dramatic beats; let alone, the spontaneous vibe a live rendition is supposed to emanate. As a result, the impression we’re left with is close to that of a TV program, hurrying to fit all its contents into a tight slot – as if the slightest overtime would mean sacrificing an entire number.
They’d better wise up in this regard. Yet, I would be lying if I didn’t say how, despite this prominent flaw, the show still manages to captivate its viewers on several levels. Of course, a great deal of it comes from its writing. Richard O’Brien’s unforgettable songs are just impossible to resist. For better and for worse, attending Rocky Horror means breaking many rules of traditional theatre etiquette. You will dance, you will sing, and you will scream your lungs out as you grant Brad and Janet their lawful titles. Because you can’t just dream it. You must be it.
The cast does an excellent job of honoring O’Brien’s music. Not only are their vocals strong, but the electricity they project in every number is quite refreshing. Their comedic timing is quite compelling at many points, too. Yes, some of the jokes fail to land due to the sped-up approach, but the laughter is nonetheless guaranteed by a company that exudes talent and commitment to what they’re bringing together.
Among them, the highest praise goes to Connor Carson as Brad, drawing out the character’s quirkiness while also proving his competence as a singer. Adam Strong, as Frank-N-Furter, boasts a spellbinding voice in his portrayal. However, the signature sass of the role is missing – lacking that vivid underground allure that Tim Curry so beautifully encapsulated, and which in this case seems to have gone into hibernation.
You can’t expect much in terms of design if you’re talking Rocky Horror – its point is precisely the opposite. Yet, Hugh Durrant’s sets struggle to display that dodgy quality too well – practical and dynamic, but sometimes overly cartoonish and infantile. The same can’t be said about Nick Riching’s lighting, whose lively colour palette is one of the production’s triumphs – garish but tasteful, boosting the spectacularity of Nathan M. Wright’s sprightly choreography.
Janet. Dr. Scott. Brad. Rocky. Everyone did justice to their parts despite the slight theme park aura this version brandishes. If you just came for the fun and intermittent sing-along, you shan’t think of this experience as a riff-raff. Still, I’ve got something to say, for as much as I really loved the cast’s skillful way, this take doesn’t look ready to beat the previous Rocky Horror incarnations to the bride bouquet. It’s a jolly good effort, but I think we can do better than that.
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All pictures credit to David Freeman.
The Rocky Horror Show plays at London’s Richmond Theatre until 3 May, before continuing its international tour until 13 June. Tickets are available on the following link.