This weekend I went to see Rocky Horror Picture Show done by a group of players who ran the movie and simultaneously acted out the movie as a live play. Staging and production-wise, I'd say don't try this at home. They were a cute bunch of kids in cute costumes and I think everyone had a pretty good time. I felt very middle-aged throughout, especially considering that unlike me, most of the live cast and audience weren't yet born in 1975 when "Rocky Horror" first came out.
I was much too young for "Rocky Horror" when it debuted and not much interested in the counter-culture that embraced it as I came of age. My previous attempts to watch it (once at a party, once at a theater and once at home on video) ended with dozing, falling asleep and general boredom. It's not that I didn't get it. It was that it was the cultural relic of a time that I didn't belong to and didn't idolize. I understand the era it came from and had some passing familiarity with it, but it isn't my thing. As much as the young Rocky party goers wish otherwise, it's not really their thing either.
There's nothing particularly outrageous in 2008 about going out in public in a corset. Hell, they make them as outerwear these days. While there is still a lot of anti-gay sentiment, most people of my acquaintance today know exactly what a transsexual is. And for those of us who watched friends die of AIDs, a free-for-all sexual lifestyle looks more idiotic than liberating. The sexual revolution that spawned Dr. Frankenfurter is as antique today as a Victorian opium den. However fun and salacious the young people doing this production found it, they're even less likely to actually understand Rocky than I am. It was a profound realization in the middle of a very silly night. Sadly, even with my previous mostly unconscious attendances of the past, I knew the cues for the stuff in the prop bags better than most of the avowed enthusiasts.
It took two days and a lot of scrubbing to get that "lip" stamp off my hand, too!