Jonathan Adams | Through the Shattered Lens

It feels strange to actually watch The Rocky Horror Picture Show without an audience.

I say this because the film is actually far better known for its fans than anything else. First released in 1975 to middling reviews and, at first, anemic box office returns, The Rocky Horror Picture Show went on to become the first great cult film. It’s literally been playing in theaters for 25 years, which has to be some sort of record. When one sees Rocky Horror Picture Show in a theater, one does not merely sit back and watch in a state of suspended animation. Instead, most of the audience becomes a part of the show. They yell, they dance, and many of them return night-after-night. I have been to two midnight showings of the Rocky Horror Picture Show and I have to admit that it was actually pretty intimidating both times. The people in the audience — the veterans who knew every line and knew exactly what to do — were, more or less, friendly. I’ve read some online horror stories about people who felt like they weren’t welcome the first time they attended a showing. I had the opposite experience. No one was rude, no one glared. It was definitely a cliquey group but I felt as if they had earned the right to be in their clique. No one seemed to be bothered by the fact that I was mostly there just to observe. (I should also mention that neither showing that I attended demanded that the first-time watchers stand up or go to the front of the theater or anything like that. Apparently, there’s quite a few people online who got upset over being singled-out as “virgins” and never got over it.) But it was intimidating in much the same way as meeting a friend of a friend is intimidating or exploring a new town is intimidating. I was surrounded by people who had a deep connection with each other, one that had been forged by sharing the same experience for years. It was a communal experience that was actually touching to see, even if I never stopped feeling like an outsider.

It’s interesting to compare the midnight showings of The Rocky Horror Picture Show to the midnight showings of The Room. I attended several midnight showings of The Room and I have to admit that I eventually soured on them as it became clear that many people were showing up to taunt the film as opposed to enjoying it for the odd, communal experience that it was. The last few The Room showings that I attended were filled with a hostility that left me feeling a bit uncomfortable. Whereas The Room’s cult has often felt a bit mean-spirited (as if everyone had gathered together to laugh at Tommy Wiseau for thinking he could make a movie), The Rocky Horror Picture Show‘s cult is based on a genuine love for the film.

As for the film itself, I watched it last month without an audience and I judged it solely as a film. The pacing is a bit off and, without the group experience, it’s a lot easier to notice that the film’s storyline doesn’t make a bit of sense, though that was undoubtedly deliberate on the part of the filmmakers. That said, Tim Curry’s performance still gives the film a jolt of energy, recapturing your attention and holding it until the film comes to a close. (The genius of Curry’s performance as that, as flamboyant as it is, he still plays Dr. Frank-n-Furter as being an actual characters with feelings and emotions. He doesn’t just coast on attitude. One need only compare him to Laverne Cox in the 2016 TV production to see how strong Curry’s performance is.) Susan Sarandon brings some depth to her performance as Janet and, if Barry Bostwick is a little on the dull side of Brad …. well, the heroes who appeared in the film that Rocky Horror sends up were rarely that exciting. I enjoyed the snarky humor of Richard O’Brien’s performance and the energy that Meat Loaf brought to the production. Charles Gray, in the role of the Criminologist, really doesn’t get enough credit for holding the film’s disparate parts together.

In the end, when viewed as a film as opposed to a communal experience, The Rocky Horror Picture Show is undoubtedly flawed but it’s still energetic enough to work. The love for the old sic-fi films comes through and Tim Curry’s uninhibited performance works with or without an audience. The Rocky Horror Picture Show is a film that brings people together and I hope it continues to do so.

In 1990, long-time friends George Romero and Dario Argento collaborated on Two Evil Eyes, anthology film that was based on the writings of Edgar Allan Poe. An Italian-American co-production, Two Evil Eyes featured two stories. The first was directed by George Romero, while the second was directed by Argento.

The Facts In The Case of Mr. Valdemar

(Dir by George Romero)

The first story is Romero’s, a modernized version of The Facts In The Case of M. Valdemar.

Jessica Valdemar (Adrienne Barbeau) is the 40 year-old wife of 65 year-old, Ernest Valdemar (Bingo O’Malley). Jessica only married Ernest for her money and, now that he’s on his death bed, she and her lover, Dr. Robert Hoffman (Ramy Zada), have hypnotized to him to do and say whatever they tell him to say and do. Even though Ernest is essentially comatose, the hypnosis allows them to force Ernest to sign his name to legal documents and to tell his suspicious attorney (E.G. Marshall) that he indeed wants to leave all of his money to Jessica.

When Ernest dies while under the influence of hypnosis, Jessica and Robert attempt hide his body in the basement. But is Ernest really dead? Jessica is convinced that she hears groaning from the basement and she wonders if the hypnosis has somehow left Ernest in limbo, between life and death. Robert thinks that Jessica is being foolish but it turns out that she’s not. After much paranoia and betrayal, one conspirator is dead and the other is a part of the living dead.

Usually, I like Romero’s work but this one didn’t work for me. From the flat cinematography to the shallow performances, this film felt more like an episode of a television show than anything else. Perhaps if it had been a stand-alone film, Romero could have found a way to make the material a bit more cinematic. (The story’s final shot, of blood dripping on a hundred dollar bill, is the film’s strongest moment and the part that feels the most Romeroesque.) But as a shortened chapter of an anthology film, it fell flat.

The Black Cat

(Dir by Dario Argento)

The Dario Argento segment is based on several different Poe stories. While the majority of the story is taken from The Black Cat, it also contains elements of Annabel Lee, Telltale Heat, The Pit and the Pendulum, and Buried Alive. Though this segment doesn’t really work, it’s obvious that Argento is a fan of Poe’s work and, for other Poe fans, there’s a lot of fun to be found in all of the Poe references that Argento sneaks into his story.

Harvey Keitel stars as Rod Usher, a crime scene photographer who loves his work a bit too much. He’s excited about the fact that his book of photography is about to be published. He’s less happy about the fact that his girlfriend, Annabel (Madeleine Potter), has adopted a black cat that is constantly glaring at Rod. Rod is eventually driven mad by both the cat’s apparent hatred of him and the fact that the cat itself keeps showing up no matter how far he goes to get rid of it. (This film features violence against a cat, which I hated. But it also featured a cat getting revenge and I appreciated that.) Eventually, Rod’s paranoia leads to violence and murder.

Look, this is a film about a guy who has an obsessive hatred of a cat. Obviously, this is not a film that I’m going to enjoy because I love cats. That said, I can still judge the film on its merits, even if it’s not for me on a personal level. While Argento is able to build up a good deal of tension and suspense in this film, the overall film doesn’t work because Harvey Keitel, supremely talented actor that he is, was totally the wrong choice for Rod Usher. Keitel, who reportedly did not get along with Argento during filming, gave a self-indulgent performance that featured a lot of bellowing. It’s as if Keitel is trying to compete with the constantly moving camera. The problem is that a star of a film like this has to be the director and Keitel’s histrionics take the viewer right out of the story.

Considering all of the talent involved, Two Evil Eyes is a disappointment.