How the Rocky Horror Picture Show revolutionized cinema 50 years ago

Cinema until the 1970s worked like this: You came, saw, and were supposed to be quiet. As soon as the studios' fanfare announced the main film, you had to be quiet, otherwise you would be shouted at. Of course, you were allowed to laugh if something was funny, to scream at shocking scenes. But otherwise, the rule was: The people on the screen entertained, and the audience was entertained. That way—and not the other way around.

But then something else happened, something almost impossible—an exception to the rule. In this very special film, the audience spun the colorful, loud, and shrill events unfolding before their eyes and ears into the auditorium. The film reels whirring through the projector were accompanied by an improvised live show that accompanied the entire film. Voilà—the "Rocky Horror Picture Show"!

"Don't dream it – be it!" – Don't dream it, live it! The science fiction horror comedy film musical, with its message of sexual liberation and self-realization, debuted in 1975 and arrived in (West) Germany somewhat late in 1977. However, Germans had already heard the signal from the USA, Great Britain, and Australia that an extraordinary code of conduct was permitted, even desired.

Interactive cinema – this, of course, initially remained limited to German cities and their emerging arthouse cinemas. What exactly happened there? Sparklers sparkled in the darkness of the cinema, lighters flashed their tiny flames, and the costumed audience sang along as the no-sex-before-marriage couple Brad (Barry Bostwick) and Janet (Susan Sarandon) arrived at the spooky castle, which later turned out to be a spaceship, after a car breakdown. They fervently celebrated the hymn to light "over at the Frankenstein place..." together. As the rain poured down, the fans splashed water.

And as the castle residents danced the rapid "Time Warp," the German "time travelers" also did the twist. Hop to the left, hop to the right - "Let's do the time warp again..." All in English, because the film wasn't dubbed.

As soon as the lord of the castle, Frank'n'Furter, stamped his feet in glittery boots in the elevator, and he, in a flimsy corset, claimed to be a "sweet transvestite," the two spheres merged. The audience was in overdrive, everyone singing and stomping along. When Brad calls out to a character in the movie, "Great Scott!", the toilet paper rolls finally fly.

In the Anglo-American world, this gag had a double meaning: not only because Frank 'n' Furter then unwrapped his own creature, Rocky, from its white bandages. But also as a homage to the company that was the first to produce rolled toilet paper in the 1890s – the Philadelphia-based Scott Paper Company.

And there was rice, baby! Lots of rice. The tradition of wishing a newlywed good luck and many children at weddings was also addressed in the Rockymaniacs movie theater, when Brad and Janet celebrate a friend's wedding at the beginning of the film. Cinema pioneer Hans-Joachim Flebbe, founder of the CinemaxX chain and the Astor luxury cinemas, who opened the "Kino am Raschplatz" in Hanover in 1977, recalls this.

"The 'Rocky Horror Picture Show' was one of the 'bread and butter' films in arthouse cinemas back then," Flebbe said in an interview. Audiences repeatedly requested it. "And we were happy to oblige. The screenings were always packed. Even our staff dressed up in costumes." Did he see the film? "At least 50 times," Flebbe says.

The "Rocky Horror Picture Show," with its $1.6 million budget, was initially a flop. Neither producer Lou Adler nor director Jim Sharman had anticipated this—after all, the stage play "Rocky Horror Show" had been named "Best Musical of 1973" in London. But even the live show had to slowly make its way into larger venues. The film grossed just $300,000 in its first run—just under a fifth of its cost.

But there was a small, persistent community that loved it. And six months later, "The Rocky Horror Picture Show" was advertised as a "Midnight Movie"—a new marketing idea at the time: Taboo-breaking films and cheap flicks from the old days were shown in late-night screenings. They became cult films.

A must-see due to its formal, thematic, or, in the case of "The Rocky Horror Picture Show," interactive features. Thanks to pure word of mouth, the underground film became a classic on its second attempt.

American film guru Roger Ebert, who died in 2013, revealed the secret of the audience's desire to participate in his review in the Chicago Sun-Times: The film looks like a show, like a "filmed play." "The choreography, the compositions, and even the actors' posture convey a stage atmosphere," Ebert wrote. "And thus they invite a kind of laughter and audience participation that only really makes sense if the actors are on a stage, creating a shared karma."

"Participatory cinema" was also the title of the weekly magazine "Spiegel" in 1979, fascinated by the perennial phenomenon of sold-out screenings. A film was shown daily for years, and the audience passed around champagne, red wine, and schnapps, cheered and whistled. And no one hissed "Shh!" in outrage. "Cinema becomes a happening, a carnival, a masked ball," the weekly magazine summarized.

And this happening even worked when only half of a film print, scorched by countless projections, remained. In 1980, one had to squeeze under a metal grate in Berlin-Kreuzberg to watch a 45-minute torso of the 105-minute film in the desolate, rice-covered hall of the Tali Theater. You didn't understand anything, but it was still fun.

"You have to experience it," Hans Joachim Flebbe enthuses. "200 to 300 people putting on a show together – what a thrilling effect it has." He didn't throw rice himself, though, "because I always thought of our cleaning staff who had to clean everything up afterward." After six or seven years, the performances were discontinued. "Suddenly, some people started throwing flour instead of rice. After the water scene, not only did the theater look battered, but so did the other audience members' clothes."

Was the "Rocky Horror Picture Show" alone in the wide world? Not quite. One film that shortly thereafter experienced an unexpected second spring as a participatory film in West Germany was "Die Feuerzangenbowle" (1944). Heinz Rühmann, popular both in the Third Reich and in the economic miracle of the 1950s, played Pfeiffer, a former private school student who is catching up on some of his real school days.

The comedy's performance venues were and are primarily universities: When the alarm clock wakes Pfeiffer, a senior, from his sleep, the students' gadgets rattle. And when the high school students in the film feign drunkenness to their chemistry teacher during a lesson on alcoholic fermentation, blueberry wine is served in the lecture hall – often from test tubes.

All other audience participation was more limited – there was the collective reciting of lines of dialogue (for example in John Landis' "Blues Brothers" or Robert Zemeckis' "Back to the Future") or singing along to songs (in "My Songs - My Dreams" or "Dirty Dancing").

"Later, during 'Saturday Night Fever' and 'Grease,' people also got up and danced," remembers Flebbe. In today's fast-paced world, however, nothing develops slowly anymore, allowing it to grow and last. "These days, things are hyped on social media, and the enthusiasm dies down after a relatively short time." Masquerades like those in "The Rocky Horror Picture Show" still occur in cinemas. "Often there are requests online beforehand asking people to come in costume," says Flebbe. Most recently, this was the case with "Gladiator II" and the "Wizard of Oz" prequel "Wicked."

Thus, the "Rocky Horror Picture Show" is the all-powerful ancestor of all interactive fiction – right down to the show elements that are used today to create additional incentives and memories when showing children's films. The difference is that these are usually targeted campaigns by distributors or cinema operators. "'Rocky Horror' was a beautiful, mature story, not concocted by a marketing department," says Flebbe. In the anniversary year, Flebbe plans to bring the film back into the program. He isn't afraid of the flour-and-water mush in the Astor cinemas: "The audience has gotten older. And the young ones, who are more inclined to throw things, don't even know the film. But rice would be okay." He laughs.

Stars emerged from the "Rocky Horror" cast: Susan "Janet" Sarandon, for example, who had previously starred alongside Robert Redford in Billy Wilder's "Extra" (1974) and the adventure film "The Adventures of the Beast" (1975), became one of Hollywood's great character actresses. Tim Curry also remained successful in the business and is remembered primarily for further masked roles – as the devil in Ridley Scott's fantasy film "Legend" (1985) and as the spooky clown Pennywise in the first film adaptation of "It" (1990).

And with the album “Bat out of Hell,” Meat Loaf, who played biker Eddie in “Rocky Horror,” who tragically ends up as the main course at the castle dinner, became a global rock star in 1977.

In 1981, Jim Sharman's sequel, "Shock Treatment," was a flop due to the "Rocky Horror" audience's refusal to be forced into a cult film. And in 2016, Kenny Ortega directed a remake, "The Rocky Horror Picture Show – Let's Do The Time Warp Again." Laverne Cox played a trans woman, Doctor Frank 'n' Furter, and Tim Curry made a cameo. But the remake went against the spirit of the original.

Who had the crazy idea to integrate the interactive audience into the film's plot?