“Strange Journey” Review, and Some Things…

Editor’s Note: Earlier this week, the human ensconced their selves before a laptop screen to watch a film that they will speak of in this cross between a think piece and a screed. All the while, my food dish and need for Greenies were grossly ignored for 90 minutes or thereabouts!

We shall also pass over the impropriety of watching an inordinate amount of playoff basketball and hockey, and NOT involving the pizza guys more often…I shall have to deal with this matter later.

Also…why in the name of Bast must they continue to brush me?!? They say I had some mats, but I live quite well without having my fur ripped out. Keeping up appearances, I suppose.

Anyway, be prepared.

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Well, Kao has gone off to monitor the backyard for those craven birds and street cats that dare set foot within the domain, so I think I’ll be able to write this for you. For those who are wondering about what I left in the previous blog (I suggest you go there first), but this is more about what I saw this week, and also, how do we connect these threads?

We are talking about Strange Journey: The Story of Rocky Horror, directed by Linus O’Brien, the son of creator Richard O’Brien. This is a personal look inward behind the person who created this odd little musical that went from a script idea, to a tiny theater, to the West End of London, and so forth and so on.

Richard still looks vibrant (I have no idea of his age), and to see father and son walk back into earlier life was something. The film fills a lot of gaps in O’Brien’s early life in New Zealand, his love of music, and B-movie horror flicks. The pictures of O’Brien and those around him in the formative days show you the person he’d become, but even then, O’Brien still wasn’t quite sure about who he was.

Gender Dysphoria replaced the term Gender Identity Disorder in 2013…finally, not a disorder, a thing to be excised, corrected, or destroyed. A lot of that didn’t come out, but you see the seeds of it from O’Brien’s early work in theater. The need to expand on oneself, to become something other, to discover who you are. I hope that makes sense.

Those O’Brien ran into on Jesus Christ Superstar would play parts in the idea that soon came forth, Jim Sharman, Richard Hartley, and others. Those closest to O’Brien appear in the film to discuss their views on what he had in mind and what they thought.

All through this, we see old scripts, notes, behind-the-scenes, and performance shots from the beginnings of the show, then the eventual turn into a low-budget film. It’s nice to see those at the root of the show come back to talk about it, such as Barry Bostwick, Susan Sarandon, Nell Campbell and Patricia Quinn. Tim Curry also appears, and despite his health, he discussed his experience with great candor. The shock was that Peter Hinwood (Rocky in the film) appeared briefly. For years, Hinwood never talked about the experience, but he now looks back on it positively. I was happy to see and hear.

The shrewd marketing idea to put the film into midnight showings slowly began to grow the cult following. The dressing up, the AP lines, the props, all of this I would be introduced to years later, but in the beginning, we hear from those who were at Ground Zero.

Sal Piro (who some have disliked, but he was always nice to me) explains the fan club, as does his sister Lillias, and our fearless director also reached across the generations, to bring in footage from the shadow casts, performers’ takes, and also what Rocky Horror did for generations of people, across all economic/social boundaries. Jack Black shows up, as do performers such as Trixie Mattel, who offer views on what the show meant to them.

But what did it do? It gave us, myself included, a place where we were ACCEPTED for who we were. Not merely tolerated, but accepted. No one cared what you looked like, your skin color, what part of the city you came from, where you went to school, etc. If you came to watch or get involved as I later did, it was cool.

We’re all human, and we do make mistakes, go the wrong way, and get sidetracked. The show gave us something to do on a Friday or Saturday night, and it made a difference. To just be there, or to get onstage “Be It,” you felt that, and it didn’t matter you’d seen the film hundreds of times.

Rocky Horror Picture Show has been debated by us shadow-casters, performers, and fans for decades, as the original play has. We dissect it, analyze it, question it, and search for hidden meanings, and what might we have missed on first (or hundredth) glance.

Back around to O’Brien. His own questioning of self led him to believe he was 70% male, 30% female. It’s apt because all human beings, regardless of what we’re born as, maintain characteristics of both sexes. Males have feminine traits, females have masculine ones. It’s different in each person. Do any of us ever question? Well, we did a lot of it, but often long before we ever got to the show.

The film was also well shot, with what looks like just a few cameras, no big production, but in homes, places that seem comfortable and intimate. You are in the room, as you should be. The grainy quality of some of the film and news footage of the show helps make Strange Journey, too. Also, the moments when O’Brien plays those songs on guitar, and how different they sound. Those were among my favorite moments of the film.

A somewhat revealing film, I recommend this for theater students, and also those looking to direct. Linus O’Brien gives us a master class in how-to. Strange Journey is one, but it is a funny, sometimes sad, but also deep look into a creator.

This is the kind of thing I consult now, when it comes to my own writing. I cannot give Rocky Horror enough credit for helping inspire me. Without the show, I would never have played my music for anyone but myself; I would never have written my books, and the more that follow.

The amusing thing: anyone who’d never seen the movie, but knew of my connection, would watch it, and they’d say, “You really DO look like that guy.”

I played Riff Raff for most of my time in the Full Body Cast and Tesseracte Players, but I started as a Rocky, albeit a 145-pound Rocky! I don’t look much like Riff any longer, and my body has informed me that I must not do what I did onstage ever again. Though I still think I have one good Riff performance left in me. No idea if I’ll ever get to do it, but never say never.

What does this all mean? I am still discovering myself. I still don’t feel fully discovered; there’s more creativity left in me, more “me” to dig out, so I may reach some kind of acceptance of myself. I do not fully accept myself as the person I am. The body changes, and the mind, but I am still finding out who I am and what I am.

I’m making no fucking apologies for it.

Anyway, go see that movie or find it! Don’t Dream It, Be It—that is the mantra we all were given from the first time we saw Rocky Horror, and it is our reminder. That we are accepted, and acceptable somewhere. But we must make ourselves who we shall be, and to hell with alleged consequences.

And right now in this day and age, we have no choice but to.

Peace, Out.