So, I had Lady In The Water all lined up for you and good to go, I swear - I wasn't looking forward to it much, but I was going to do it anyway, because my gut instinct was that it'd be an interesting piece to juxtapose with The Wizard Of Speed And Time. I didn't enjoy that either, though, and while I try not to shy away from films I think might not be a great time, if I'm watching something on a Friday night after work I tend to cut myself a little bit of slack and go for the easy option. So, when I found out that yesterday that it was the 40th anniversary of the release of The Rocky Horror Picture Show, it kind of felt like a get-out-of-jail-free card.
So I watched it, and I sang along and scared the cats, and did a sort of stretched-out version of the TimeWarp that didn't involve getting up off the couch, and generally had a thoroughly enjoyable time. It was only afterwards that the doubts started to kick in - what the heck am I going to write about this one? How can you try to make any sort of balanced or objective judgement about a film that feels like a family member, and more to the point, would you even want to?
A little background information, then, to start off. I first saw the film before I saw the stage show. The year would've been 1996, I was in my first year at Durham University, and I'd have lost my virginity no more than a couple of weeks previously. I'd lost it to a sweet, slightly geeky guy who I'd earmarked for this specific purpose from the day I'd heard he existed - it had seemed like far too important a decision to leave to chance and drunkenness, although my pragmatism only took me so far and eventually I landed up getting my heart broken anyway. All of that, however, was a month or so ahead, which is a long time when you're not yet 19.
C was something of a film buff himself, and sat on his bed in his bedroom in his parents' house, I had my first brush with real cinema - with films that had some sort of definite artistic vision. Here was where I first encountered Danny Boyle's Trainspotting (initial thought: WOW) and Tarantino's Reservoir Dogs (initial thought: pretentious bollocks). And yes, this was where I first saw the Rocky Horror Picture Show - initial thought: is that what all the bloody fuss is about? I was thoroughly unimpressed by the sets (shonky), the songs (limp, bloodless parodies) and the general nudge-nudge-wink-wink campiness of the whole affair.
Fast forward three years, and a lot had happened in my life. I'd had a breakdown, of sorts, and been in a very dark place for a very long time. While a full recovery was a long way away, I'd reached a turning point and was starting to get to a point where I was ready to start feeling better. After almost four years, I'd found myself a group of friends and some sort of a social life; my grades had shot up and yes, life was good. With my 22nd birthday coming up, I wanted to celebrate, and when I saw a flier for an upcoming performance of the Rocky Horror Show a couple of towns away, it sounded like a great night out. I think Jason Donovan played Frank N Furter, although it may have been Darren Day; I know the narrator was Ken Morley from Coronation Street because when I eventually got to see Nicholas Parsons in the role it felt like a very big deal indeed.
So we went, myself and the girls and Sven the Improbably Loud German, and a great time was had by all, and you know what? The next time I saw the film, it didn't seem half so bad. The story made more sense, and the songs felt as though they had more rhythm, and the various parts seemed to have merged into a coherent, even uplifting whole.
I was never one of those groupies who followed the show from town to town, but I did go once more, and once again, I was reminded of quite how much I enjoy live music. What I enjoyed even more, however, was the feeling of being part of a club, and a slightly naughty one at that. Never mind that it was about as transgressive as a seaside postcard, it was a happy place and an escape route, and one which, thanks to my psychotic ex-boyfriend and his cutting-edge DVD player, it was somewhere I could go any time I wanted.
So if you were to ask me whether The Rocky Horror Picture Show is any good, I honestly don't think I'd be able to answer, any more than I could describe the taste of water or how it feels to be constantly breathing in and out. It doesn't belong to a frame of reference that allows for value judgements, it is what it is, and I'd have a hard job imagining my life without it.
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