Richard O’Brien on his first appearance as the Narrator received an ovation that would gladden the heart of any pop star. At the end of his 85-minute show the whole audience, many of whom were dressed as their favourite characters, attempted to dance and sing along with the cast as they ripped into the Time Warp for a tumultuous finale.

It is still hard to believe that Rocky began life in a tiny 63-seat London theatre back in 1973. Now this worldwide phenomenon, having survived many tweaks and changes to its score and script, particularly after its famous movie version, has become, as one writer put it, a cultural monument and is virtually impervious to criticism.

Richard O’Brien has said that he thought its popularity was because the show was in essence a fairytale (an updated Hansel and Gretel all mixed up with Adam, Eve and the Fall). Possibly, but we have lost some of our shockability, and the show is no longer nearly as subversive as it seemed back in 1973.

Back then it was a show that was deliberately a small, fun rock musical and might well have been smothered in the age of mega musicals that run forever with their overblown music and colourless plots.

However, it has survived, despite the disappearance of late-night double feature horror movies in flea pits and most people are no longer outraged by transvestism. Its chief asset is that it never for a moment takes itself seriously.

The current production is rapid, colourful, energetic (maybe the moveable ladders are climbed once too often), and very loud.

If I were the lyricist, I would be upset as most of the words are completely lost (the opening is unintelligible) because the band is deafening, but as most audiences know them backwards it probably doesn’t matter.

Juan Jackson as Frank-N-Furter is far too butch – he’s built like Charles Atlas – and lacks any suggestion of the glam-rock androgyny that seems essential to the role. Brad and Janet are played to the hilt by Lucy Maunder and Alex Rathgeber, while Kristian Lavercombe actually provides some subtlety and clever characterisation to the role of Riff Raff. As the Narrator, Richard O’Brien is cool, elegant and beautifully spoken. 
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It’s ‘Time Warp City’ now, as this revival of The Rocky Horror Show adds a new level to its in-built nostalgia for the late night science fiction double feature picture shows that inspired its writer – and original Riff Raff – Richard O’Brien, when he saw them as a lad in Hamilton over half a century ago.

I witnessed its antipodean opening in a gutted old cinema in Fitzroy, Melbourne, directed with an all-Australian cast by Sydney lad Jim Sharman, after he had originated the 1973 London premiere at The Royal Court’s tiny Theatre Upstairs (it played twice nightly without an interval). He also directed – and collaborated with O’Brien on the screenplay for – The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975).

The live show was intentionally tacky and tawdry back then. Now it is slick glam grunge, more in keeping with expectations engendered by the film; it plays with an interval – as it has since its West End transfer in 1979 – and it attracts nostalgic Baby Boomers and every generation since, including those for whom seeing it live is a new experience.

Launched amid the socio-sexual revolution, it rode the crest of the collective quest for liberation and liberty. And every generation confronts that desire to dabble in decadence in the process of discovering which dreams you’d like to come true in reality and which should be confined to the realms of fantasy. But nowadays some – be they older and more experienced, or younger and more aware – may have a clearer perspective on Dr Frank-N-Furter’s amoral excesses as a user and abuser of anyone able to feed his insatiable appetites.

Bookending the show, the Usherette’s heartfelt paean to late night science fiction double feature picture shows first leads us into temptation then reminds us this was all in her imagination, and the Narrator’s judicious links throughout conjure more with the metaphysics than the politics of libertarianism.

In this production, Richard O’Brien’s persona as the Narrator is a revelation. Those who have seen various celebrities hamming it up over the years must cancel all preconceptions. Clad in a dapper denim tail suit, O’Brien plays it wonderfully straight, allowing his fellow cast and the production values to manifest the theatrical magic.  Occasionally he slips in to join the chorus, or sing the odd line solo – he has a mellifluous voice – then in the finale he breaks out the electric guitar as the entire theatre does ‘The Time Warp’ again.

Added to the show itself, then, is a sense that he has come ‘home’ to relive – and gift to us – the story of his story of what happened to the middle class innocents from Denton High. The rapturous welcome he received from Wellington last night proves what a good idea that is.

Set designer Janet Bird’s ruched translucent cinema-style front curtain, sliding ladders and doorway flats, plastic pop-out ‘toy’ frame from which Rocky makes his entrance, and pseudo cathode tubes that display nefarious doings with x-rated shadow-puppetry, and Nick Riching’s brilliant lighting, are all new elements in Christopher Luscombe’s dynamically directed staging. The costume designs are Sue Blane’s, as seen in the film, because all that is part of the brand – and why change a winning formula?

Our own Kristian Lavercombe takes the role originated by O’Brien and makes it very much his own – nimble-footed, gimlet-eyed, crystal-voiced – as he draws a direct line between his earthly ‘handyman-servant to the Dr’ persona and the alien commander he’s been all along.  

American-born Juan Jackson, now resident in Australia and a sometime opera singer with a rippling muscled body, revels in every nuance of Frank-N-Furter’s pansexual outrageousness, seducing us too with his charisma before indulging in yet another act of gross excess that jolts us back to more rational judgement.

All the remaining cast hail from Australia, fully trained and hugely experienced in the musical theatre genre. That they comprise a well-oiled machine is a compliment tinged with a bit of regret that the sheen they bring to the show makes them somewhat less accessible than their more grungy live show ancestors.

Brad and Janet are perfectly cloned by Alex Rathgeber and Lucy Maunder. Nicole Melloy metamorphoses marvellously from the Usherette into Magenta and back again. Caitlin Kent brings a Bronx stridency to Columbia that jangles for me, but her tap-dancing rocks.

Lucas Glover brings the full package to Rocky, transcending the body and voice to reveal a soft and vulnerable dimension that touches Janet in a different way. Mark Simpson emulates Meat Loaf in the fated role of Eddie and returns to do credit to the wheelchair-bound Dr Scott

Ingeniously the understudies (3m, 2f) are utilised as Phantoms to do backing vocals, animate props and generally disport themselves about the set, adding luridly menacing atmosphere. This too, as I recall, is a step up from the 70s show.

Perhaps it was the proximity of a huge bank of speakers (our seats were just four rows back and to one side), or the sound-mix of vocals with the small but brilliant showband combo, that distorted too many of the excellent lyrics. It would be a bad move for the producers to assume everyone in their audience already knows the songs.

That said, there is something special about being in an audience that instantly leaps to its feet to participate in the ‘Time Warp’ encore. Like bridal wear, the old, new and blue blend to produce a finally exhilarating show.
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Ambling onstage as the show’s narrator, Rocky Horror creator Richard O’Brien was greeted with a spontaneous eruption of applause. He acknowledged the welcome with a typically Kiwi piece of self-effacement – casually announcing that "the little bodgie bastard is back".

But the relaxed, down-to-earth demeanour only underlines the fact that O’Brien is returning home in triumph – riding high on a superb British production of the show that conquered the world and has never really been out of the limelight since its 1973 debut in the 60-seat studio of London’s Royal Court Theatre. [More]
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Raw, deliciously outrageous and self-defining, Richard O’Brien’s Rocky Horror Show has churned out the songs that have driven many mild mannered folk insane for 37 years. In Auckland a mix of die-hard fans and ‘Rocky virgins’ came together pumped up in anticipation of a wild opening night. They got one.

Tim Lawson’s production, tightly directed by Christopher Luscombe, must look similar to the original 1970 show, as it is refreshingly ‘low-tech’ in its presentation, compared to many contemporary, slick and tech-savvy modern musicals.

Several movable ladders on tracks, which glide across stage, define the set design by Janet Bird. Luscombe takes full advantage of the height available – Rif Raff’s entrance is a stand out.

Puppet Design & Direction by Mervyn Millar, while suffering from some technical hitches on opening night, is adorable.

Slightly under-lit (designer Nick Richings / associate Jeremy Duncan), with hokey props and a bit ‘pantomime-esque’, this production has an unpretentious, unpredictable look to it. I think the scruffiness helps define its uniqueness and makes the show more accessible to its audience.

Yet at its core are 13 very skilled, hard-working cast members who sing, scream and pelvic-thrust their way through the random gratuitous larger-the-life tale, with the kind of detailed precision that only experienced and highly talented artists can pull off.

Stand out honours go to Alex Rathgeber & Lucy Maunder, perfectly cast as Brad & Janet. Not only are they suitably perky, neat and sweet, they are excellent vocalists, from ‘Damn It, Janet’ and ‘Over At The Frankenstein Place’ through to Maunder’s fabulously choreographed ‘Touch-A-Touch-A-Touch-Me’ (choreographer Jenny Arnold) and Rathgeber’s surprisingly tender solo, ‘Once In A While’. 

It’s not often I throw my head back and howl in appreciation, but I did for Juan Jackson’s Frank-N-Furter, with his show-stopping ‘Sweet Transvestite’. Costume Designer Sue Blane’s cloak is a work of art, but what’s revealed underneath (swoon, gasp) is even more so. Cast for his remarkable vocal magic, and simply awesome frame, there’s a touch of Freddie Mercury in his showmanship, as Jackson struts his fine stuff. 

Writer and creator Richard O’Brien is given the reception he deserves when he saunters on as the Narrator– the crowd goes wild, to the point where the flow of the show simply has to stop, to allow him to break with character and simple say, “thank you”. When he does begin, his Narrator is as straight as they come, in complete contrast to the excess around him. It works – of course it does – it’s his.

As Riff Raff, New Zealand’s own Kristian Lavercombe is deviously melodramatic and he puts his unmistakable bright vocal to great effect throughout, especially in ‘Time Warp’, as well as his dramatic ray-gun gate crashing of Frank’s floorshow. 

Caitlin Kent’s Columbia is reminiscent of the squeaky mad Bubble from Absolutely Fabulous, but she makes it her own, giving a committed performance. As does Nicole Melloy (Magenta/usherette) and Mark Simpson (Eddie/Dr Scott). 

Lucas Glover as Rocky is a pleasure to watch and listen to. A smooth mover, his dance with Frank-N-Furter, with Janet Arnold’s sizzling choreography, is mesmerising and all too brief.

As the phantoms, Nick Christo, Vincent Hooper, Angela Scundi and Meghan O’Shea are inspiring creatures. In this over-hyped Twilight-obsessed age of predictable vampires, it is deeply satisfying to see pale-faced characters full of energy, life and personality.

Finally, many in the audience, young and old, entered into Richard O’s liberated world, and there were plenty of Mohawks, tiara’s, drag queens, Janet’s and Brads, throughout the venue. While it is fantastic to see the Rocky Horror dress-code transcend all generations, top honours have to go to Jesse Peach & David Farrier’s legs – they look divine in fishnets & stilettos. (Pretty sure it was David with Jesse – apologies if I have the wrong legs though.) 

A platform for sexual freedom, it is easy to see why this iconic ‘B-grade cult classic’ (programme notes) shook up the industry, from Broadway to 20^th Century Fox, in the 1970s. Yet the timeless infectious pull of the songs endures the test of time, saving the show from cliché or appearing dated. 

Richard Hartley’s Musical Arrangements (with additional arrangements by Simon Beck) are given gritty execution under the supervision of Robert Gavin & Musical Director Craig Renshaw, who has assembled a small yet brilliant band. (Side note: Whoever decided on the musical treatment of “releasing my tension” in ‘Sweet Transvestite’ loved it!) 

Structurally, there is no hiding from the fact that The Rocky Horror Show slows down (pace and plot) in the middle of the second half. Traditionally, musicals have a longer first half and save the climatic material for a shorter second half. Rocky Horror’s construction is the antithesis. While it opens at a cracking pace and gallops along from one classic hit to another, the second half, after opening with the famous bedroom antics, then becomes burdened some wacky plot twists, some ominous talking and slower songs. While the ballads are gorgeous, given the frivolity and pace we have enjoyed to this point, the journey becomes a little pedestrian from the audience’s perspective.

But if you relax, it washes over like an acid flash back (I’m guessing). The reward is the doing of the ‘Time Warp’ again – and of course we all stay on our feet after the standing ovation, take a step to the right, and sing. It’s astounding.

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