The Rocky Horror Show review: Broadway shows got killer performances, but, dammit Janet, make it more fun
One hour and 50 minutes, with one intermission.At Studio 54, 254 W.
54th Street.It’s just a jump to the left.And then a step to the right.Put your hands… over your mouths!“You will not be seeing a film, but a live theatrical performance,” goes a lecturing preshow message at the revival of “The Rocky Horror Show,” which opened Thursday night at Studio 54.The rather patronizing announcement works, and the sexily performed, well-sung production from “Oh, Mary!” director Sam Pinkleton for the most part reverts back to the 1973 musical’s quieter origins before superfans in fishnets began shouting back at the screen and throwing rice at midnight movie screenings down in the Village.Callouts are not strictly prohibited on Broadway.
There are still a few.At the performance I attended, a dusting of ticketbuyers yelled “slut!” at Janet Weiss (Stephanie Hsu) and “assh–e!” at Brad Majors (Andrew Durand).
The narrator, played by Rachel Dratch, absorbs some more, although they were at times so timidly expressed that Dratch had to ask the solo screamers to repeat themselves.During “Science Fiction, Double Feature,” in shame I silently mouthed, “What the f–k’s a triffid?” for fear of being put in time out.By intermission, the audience interaction is pretty much over.I dwell on this for a few reasons.
Most apparently, the production’s indecisiveness on the rules regarding a 50-year-old global tradition that organically began right here in New York is awkward, and ticketbuyers should not be feeling wobbly at a show that preaches “give yourself over to absolute pleasure.”Do it or don’t do it.But if you don’t, brace yourself for an inevitable energy dip.While composer, writer and original Riff Raff Richard O’Brien never intended for his sci-fi horror rock musical to be mocked by costumed attendees in unison, the show also wasn’t designed to be in a 1,000-seat Broadway theater either.
It started out decidedly subversive — play...