Rocky Horror Picture Show

For a long time, I have been a fan of the true cult classic film "Rocky Horror Picture Show". There was, when I was first of the appropriate age, no place to see the show in the way that one should: at a midnight theatrical screening with all the other fans and a live cast. At one time, one of Phoenix's theaters did run the film (and another may be showing it now, for all I know), but it ended some years ago. In Chicago, I believe it was running, but I did not seek it out and seemed to have no one to go with anyway. Finally, after having been in LA nearly three years, the opportunity arose and the time was right.

It seems that the notice was put up on Facebook by friends perhaps a week or so ago. Naturally, I was in right away, provided that I could get a ride out to the theater in Santa Monica (essentially a far-away outpost as far as I'm concerned). I was full aware of roughly what I had in store for me, and determined to study the proper conduct and mode of dress. That eventually got pushed all the way to the day of the event, which was this past Saturday.

Around five or so hours before I was to be picked up, I rounded up the props which were readily available and then went out to the drugstore to try to find the rest as well as a costume I had in mind. Why I imagined they would have the latter is now beyond me. I left there empty handed and headed for the Salvation Army store and dollar stores over on Lankershim after picking up some quick cash at the bank.

I was pleased to discover that the former store was running an all-inclusive half-off sale. I was looking for a teal or blue kimono or robe. This was perhaps a longshot, but I liked my chances. After an exhaustive search, I could find no better than the same but in white. It would be passable. I also found a nice shirt for myself and a probably humorous gift to give a friend. I then went a few doors down at the same strip mall and procured the proper glasses for a dollar. I then returned home.

I had another couple of hours, so I turned my attention to other things for a while, and then looked again at my supplies. I tried on the outfit, and determined I would need help with it. The glasses were fine, and I popped out the lenses as I understood I was supposed to. All was then in readiness, and I awaited my ride. It came shortly.

The ride to the theater was not entirely uneventful. There was some uncertainty of the proper route in spite of a GPS device being present. We got to the theater entirely too early, though. This was rectified in the parking phase. At first we found a spot too far away, and the decision was made to locate one closer. This had us pass through a sobriety checkpoint, which my friend the driver successfully passed. We parked, got out of the car and I dressed in my costume. We made our way to the theater, where we encountered the first of the unique persons who enjoy spending their Saturday nights in this way.

They have a peculiar but effective security arrangement. My giant flashlight (a prop commonly employed by audience members) was scrutinized, and determined to be acceptable. I ultimately did not use it when a glowstick was provided. I decided that the minor risk of an incident was worth using it in place of my massive flashlight. This relates to one of the things I learned that would improve a return experience. I expended a lot of effort trying to get the things I needed, only to discover that some of them were prohibited by the theater and the rest were made available in a kit sold for three dollars outside.

We got inside after a period of time spent waiting for preparations to be made and "normals" seeing more conventional films to exit. We (encompassing my party and the rest of the audience) decidedly did not fit into that group. I decided that I'm in the most normal and conventional grade of those who appreciate such things as this film. This time of mingling with the more extreme grades was rather interesting.

Once inside, there was a time of additional waiting in our seats, but the show got going soon enough. Much of the event is live activities put on by a performance troupe in the theater before the film begins. One most salient event is the initiation of first-time attendees of the movie. I was in that number, and found myself petrified by the buildup by all those around me leading up to the thing itself. It proved to be less than feared, as is often the case. This is not to say that the whole thing was safe and not objectionable. One can imagine, with some knowledge of the film, the nature of the foul language and bad behavior that abounds. It's not regularly in my wheelhouse, but I can get by in it when called for.

It was truly a delightful and stimulating evening. The experience of watching a movie that way cannot be beaten. Actors in the theater imitate the action on the screen both directly in front of the screen and in aisles. Spotlights are used to direct attention to where actors are doing things and away from where they are preparing to do things (i.e changing costumes and such). There is a constant patter of lines which anticipate and follow the dialogue. Props and other things undermine the visual element. There is, though, a very clear affection for the film. Devotees seem to see it as a celebration of their individuality and way of life. I enjoyed it very much, but think that I must not quite be one of them; it seems that my embrace of the lifestyle is somewhat more academic than practical.

The film finished with plea to donate to the troupe I described. They go unpaid for their efforts, and a gauntlet of beggars had to be run before one could exit the theater. Upon stepping into the cold night air, we were met with an unpleasant surprise. One of the things we were not permitted to bring inside was rice (another prop). A friend and I resolved to leave ours on the sidewalk just to see whether they might sit there unmolested until we exited some hours later. This was not to be. Each of us was out no small amount of rice, and I had additionally lost a small re-usable plastic container.

There was also some anxiety on my part about the whereabouts of my backpack. I had prepared it with the intent of bringing it along. It ended up being left behind, but once in the theater I had forgotten this, and feared (since it was not with me there) that I had taken it out of the car and left in on the sidewalk. I thought frantically about whether it might be on the sidewalk (and in that case most likely stolen), in the car, or at home. When we got back to the car, I searched through it for the bag before even getting in. It was not there. One of my friends observed this and was amused, though I never let on as the reason for this. For lack of that information, it seemed to her as if I were suspicious of the car itself. I appreciated the humor in that.

We then drove back to North Hollywood from Santa Monica. I had some idea that we might get a late meal, but it did not transpire that way, and I procured my own food at home. It was between three and four in the morning when this happened. Even when it's so late and I so tired, I cannot go straight to bed right after getting home (especially when I prepare and eat something). After a time of gearing down in front of the TV, I fell asleep and stayed so long enough to recover sufficiently for the Super Bowl. That story is to come in my next post.