In a new interview, Rocky Horror creator Richard O’Brien says that he agrees with someone who once told him that it doesn’t matter what he thinks of the cult show and movie now because it doesn’t belong to him anymore, it belongs to its fans. It is a sentiment that comes at the end of a lively and engaging documentary, Strange Journey: The Story of Rocky Horror. Lovingly crafted by Richard’s son Linus O’Brien, the film is both an insightful chronicle of Rocky Horror’s origins and legacy as well as a heartfelt tribute to its fans that explores its enduring appeal, especially for queer folks.
Strange Journey world premiered at SXSW this month, appropriately enough at the Paramount Theatre in Austin, Texas, the very venue where fans of The Rocky Horror Picture Show celebrated the one year anniversary of its release as a midnight movie in that city with a Birthday Party and Costume Ball, back in 1977. Highlighting the crucial role of Rocky Horror’s fans in its continuing success, the documentary is dedicated to one of its biggest devotees, the late Sal Piro—the founder and president of the official Picture Show fan club—who appears in archive footage describing the cult as “a phenomenon of love.”
While Richard O’Brien’s well-documented comments about trans women made to the Metro in 2016 and The Guardian in 2020 might make some LGBTQ+ viewers hesitant to watch this film, as he observes himself, Rocky Horror is about far more than just one person, even if he happens to be the creator. When it comes to O’Brien’s own gender identity, in Strange Journey he reflects, “If I hadn’t been the way I was, Frank-N-Furter would never have come to life…out of adversity comes something good”. At another point he describes the character of Frank-N-Furter—originated on stage and immortalized on screen by Tim Curry—as “such a liberating role and I think it liberated other people”. But that liberation didn’t extend to its creator in his own life, at least not for several decades.
Earlier in the documentary, after O’Brien sings an acoustic version of the perennial rock musical anthem that he wrote, “Sweet Transvestite”, Linus asks his father about his “personal journey” to accepting his “authentic self” and how he came to describe himself as “30% female and 70% male”. O’Brien recalls how, at the age of six and a half, “the shutters came down” when it came to his gender identity and expression. After he “blurted out, I want to be the fairy princess when I grow up”, he describes taking in the reactions of his family which made him feel like he had “said something that he shouldn’t”. While in footage from an archive interview, O’Brien talks about his “repression”, being “at war” with himself and “feeling desperate” before he began to fully embrace himself.
The new interview with O’Brien forms the spine of the documentary, with him reflecting back on how the show was conceived, how the creative team came together when it was first staged at the Royal Court Theatre Upstairs in June 1973, going on to become a major hit in larger venues in London and Los Angeles, before being adapted for the screen. O’Brien also delivers stripped back acoustic performances of many of the songs, accompanied on piano at one point by Rocky’s original musical director, Richard Hartley, for a rendition of “Science Fiction / Double Feature”. These are special, intimate moments that help take Rocky back to its fundamental state as its story unfolds.
Strange Journey’s storytelling is very much an ensemble piece though and one of thrilling elements of this documentary is that pretty much everyone still living who had significant involvement in the original stage productions or movie gives a new on-camera interview. In addition to Hartley, director Jim Sharman, producer Lou Adler, and costume designer Sue Blane all make appearances, along with stars Tim Curry, Susan Sarandon, Barry Bostwick, Patricia Quinn, Nell Campbell, and Peter Hinwood, with everyone’s tender affection for Rocky palpable.
The result is a mix of great anecdotes and touching nostalgia, along with some fascinating insights. Astonishingly—or should that be astoundingly—”The Time Warp”, and its accompanying dance routine, were both conceived overnight in the run up to the first performance. While Sharman reveals that the movie’s special effects were intentionally bad, leaning into its B-movie aesthetic, whereas some other flaws were accidental, observing “life is full of contraditictions and so is The Rocky Horror Picture Show.” Recalling how she landed the role of Janet in the movie and her experience on set, Susan Sarandon goes on to make some particularly perceptive contributions about what the character represents. To her, Rocky Horror is a “political” film in that it goes against the status quo; a film about “saying ‘yes’ to life and to everything.”
Both Quinn and Campbell deliver plenty of humour with their recollections and observations, while Tim Curry has some fun too, such as recalling how he landed on his character’s distinctive accent. He also makes some poignant contributions, including discussing how people have told him over the years that the film helped them to understand their sexuality. He goes on to reflect that Rocky Horror is perhaps “more relevant now gender has become a political football, which is really just global ignorance.”
Added to the reflections of those closely involved in the making of Rocky Horror are commentators such film scholar Jeffrey Weinstock who wrote the 2007 book The Rocky Horror Picture Show and Karen Tongson, Professor of Gender and Sexuality Studies at the University of Southern California. Tongston’s take on one aspect that makes Frank-N-Furer such an alluring character is his “sexual strength” in the way that he unabashedly pursues his desires. She also remarks on the sexual freedom inherent in the character of Janet, contextualizing the show and film in terms of the women’s liberation movement of the 70s.
The filmmaker incorporates other such pertinent snapshots of cultural and societal contextualization throughout without getting sidetracked. While editor Avner Shiloah excels in keeping things pacy without the documentary feeling rushed or overloaded, despite the relatively short runtime, giving certain interviews time to breathe when necessary. All of the on-camera contributions are kept tight, enlivened by a deftly curated raft of film clips and photographs. While snippets of archive interviews are interwoven adding texture and historical depth.
Linus largely keeps himself off-camera, but there are some touching moments between father and son, such as one sequence where Linus reads out comments from fans about the impact that Frank-N-Furter’s stirring rock ballad “I’m Going Home” has had on them, including a woman who describes playing the song at her husband’s funeral. Linus remarks that it is personal stories such as these, expressing how meaningful Rocky has been in so many lives, that made him want to make the documentary. “Life-changing” is a phrase that comes up more than once, including from Jack Black who particularly connected with Meat Loaf as Eddie, saying that when he saw the film for the first time “a fuse was lit”.
Over the years, many of The Queer Review’s interviewees have shared how Rocky Horror impacted them and helped to shape who they became, including Jake Shears, Mae Martin, and Angelo Madsen. Early on in Strange Journey we hear from drag icon Trixie Mattel who recalls first discovering a copy of the film on DVD as a teenager in rural Wisconsin, going on to become part of a local shadow cast, which enabled him to feel safe as he explored drag, helped him to land upon his drag name, and feel that he had found his first chosen family. That sense of building a chosen family through Rocky, for queer folks and others who feel like outsiders, recurs throughout the later part of the film as the focus shifts to the fans, those who still come back to watch the film week after week. Its continued relevance is a point that Trixie Mattel muses on, suggesting that the film should be “a relic” by now, but media headlines underscore today’s regressive anti-LGBTQ+ politics including how anti-drag legislation has affected screenings of Rocky Horror in some states.
An upcoming Broadway revival announced this week by Roundabout Theatre Company to be staged at Studio 54 in Spring 2026, directed by Oh, Mary!’s Sam Pinkleton, sounds like a surefire hit. But as Strange Journey recounts, the original Broadway production—which opened at the Belasco Theatre on March 10th, 1975 ahead of the movie’s release—received a critical mauling and closed after only 45 performances. Similarly, the movie failed to find an audience when it was initially released in cinemas in the United States later that same year, but in one of its most compelling sequences Strange Journey traces how it gradually built to cult status through midnight showings at New York’s Waverly Theater (now the IFC Center) which expanded across the country. Eventually becoming “the longest running theatrical release in film history.” The film also goes into satisfying detail as it explores how the phenomenon of talking back to the screen emerged, along with the popularity of shadow cast performances with audience members wearing Rocky-inspired costumes and bringing a bag full of props with them. Some delightful archive footage and photographs of the earliest shadow cast showings, along with interviews with those who were involved and footage from current fan screenings, conveys the exuberance and passion of Rocky-lovers.
Over fifty years since the first performance of the show in London, bringing all these voices together in one film is truly special. Strange Journey is a vibrant love letter to the cult classic, all it has meant to be people and why it continues to resonate and entertain. This might prove to be the definitive Rocky Horror documentary, it is certainly one that makes you want to put on your fishnets and heels and head out a midnight screening.
By James Kleinmann
Strange Journey: The Story Of Rocky Horror received its world premiere at SXSW 2025.