By GUILHERME MELETTI YAZBEK
Pittsburgh CLO’s production of The Rocky Horror Show, now running at the Greer Cabaret, delivers top-tier entertainment while adding its voice to the fight for diversity and respect. In these deeply conservative times—marked by direct attacks on the trans community through restrictions on rights, healthcare, and participation in sports, among other issues—Rocky Horror’s queer narrative feels politically urgent. Yet it does so without being didactic; instead, it bursts with laughter, desire, and a vibrant, glittering, multicolored energy.
The Rocky Horror Show is a cult classic of both entertainment and LGBTQ+ culture. Richard O’Brien’s musical premiered in 1973 and became even more famous with its 1975 film adaptation. Since then, this erotic tale—a blend of sci-fi and horror illuminated by glam rock and camp excess—has drawn legions of fans to cinemas and theaters worldwide. The current production, directed by Mark Fleischer, does not disappoint. It presents a well-orchestrated mise-en-scène that fits the Greer Cabaret’s intimate layout perfectly. The audience enjoys the show while dining in traditional dinner-theater style, and the fact that the house lights are never fully dimmed reinforces the work’s participatory nature.
The Rocky Horror phenomenon has a devoted following—fans who not only know every lyric but also interact with the cast, delivering sharp, precisely timed callbacks during the brief silences in the official script. At the performance I attended, three or four particularly vocal audience members stood out, playfully blurring the boundaries between stage and audience. My favorite recurring moment was when dozens of people, in unison, shouted epithets each time the central couple introduced themselves: Brad Majors (played by Spencer Millay) and Janet Weiss (Kat Harkins). “Hi, I’m Brad.” (“Asshole!” the crowd retorts.) “I’m Janet.” (“Slut!”) And I laughed every single time.
as Frank ‘N’ Furter, with Michael Greer (kneeling, right) as Rocky,
in The Rocky Horror Show. (Image: Matt Pollk)
The Rocky Horror Show is an ode to sexual diversity—a parable of pleasure and the body’s latent desires. The plot is simple: the central couple, Brad and Janet, get a flat tire during a storm and seek help at a nearby mansion, where they meet Dr. Frank ‘N’ Furter (Alexander E. Podolinski), who introduces himself as “just a sweet transvestite from Transexual, Transylvania.” This figure of the Other—the foreigner—embodies what exists outside the norm, particularly regarding gender and sexuality, confronting what scholar Judith Butler, in their seminal Gender Trouble (1990), calls “compulsory heterosexuality”. Frank ‘N’ Furter is both masculine and feminine—indeed troubling this binary—and throughout the plot performs a pansexual fluidity. He becomes a symbol of the erotic force that seeks connection, contact, and pleasure. This transvestite from Transylvania does so both by creating a being in his laboratory—a queer Frankenstein, the muscular and attractive (and deliberately fetishized) Rocky Horror, played here by Michael Greer—and by seducing those around him. The creature’s hypersexualized physique exposes the mechanisms through which queer bodies are simultaneously celebrated and objectified—a dynamic that Rocky Horror seems to both indulge in and critique.
That said, it’s possible to argue that The Rocky Horror Show’s queer power also carries an anti-racist potential—one that, in my view, was underused in Fleischer’s staging. The central couple, a white pair devoted to bourgeois rituals (like the institution of marriage), bear telling surnames. Brad comes from the Majors family—likely an ironic nod to the pinnacle of normative whiteness and hegemonic masculinity. The play excels at critiquing and deconstructing this type of masculinity scene by scene (kudos to Millay, who portrays the character skillfully without judgment, leaving the critique to the audience). Meanwhile, Janet’s surname, Weiss (“white” in German), seems to offer a clear key to Richard O’Brien’s critique of cisheteronormativity as inextricably bound to white hegemony. In that sense, the production missed an opportunity to integrate greater racial and ethnic diversity into its casting.
Still, the cast is powerful and clearly relishes the joy of performing this musical. The choreography is executed with precision—but also the looseness such a project demands—brava, Mara Newbery Greer! While the entire ensemble is clearly having fun inhabiting these far-from-ordinary characters, Connor McCanlus deserves special recognition for his turn as Riff Raff, delivering a masterclass in acting and musical performance.
The production’s atmosphere is nothing short of hat-worthy, with every element seamlessly in place. Scenic (Noah Glaister), lighting (Cat Wilson), and projection (Natalie Rose Mabry) designs are in perfect harmony, immersing us in a visually rich world that embraces nonrealistic language in tune with the work’s sci-fi tone. The cherry on top comes from costume designer Derek St. Pierre, whose retro-camp aesthetic bursts with prints, sequins, fishnets, velvet, corsets, and garter belts—all with a welcome sense of excess. It is this visual richness, combined with Fleischer’s sure-handed direction, that makes this Rocky Horror an exemplary night of theater. The production features precise movement, shadow play, object theater, and scenes staged among the audience—no theatrical resource is spared in giving the text materiality and exhilarating rhythm.
The audience vibrates, reacts, responds, sings, and even dances along, fostering two hours of not only acceptance and respect for difference but also of pulsating, plural eroticism. The crowd communes in these values, briefly experiencing what performance theorists call communitas: a spontaneous sense of equality, solidarity, and collective joy that emerges when social hierarchies dissolve in ritual or performance.
What lingers after the curtain call is the lesson offered by Dr. Frank ‘N’ Furter: “Don’t dream it, be it!” Can I get an amen? Long live the dazzling diversity of the queer community!
It is my sincere hope that every theatergoer who sees this show joins the ongoing political struggle of the LGBTQ+ community—for the right to exist, to live, and to feel pleasure.
TICKETS AND DETAILS
Pittsburgh CLO’s product of Richard O’Brien’s The Rocky Horror Show at the Greer Cabaret Theater runs to November 8, 2024. For tickrets and more iformation visit: https://pittsburghclo.culturaldistrict.org/production/102938
Guilherme is a Brazilian theater practitioner and scholar, currently pursuing a PhD in Theatre and Performance Studies at the University of Pittsburgh.
Categories: Arts and Ideas
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