Drama Masks: A gloriously naughty ‘Rocky Horror,’ just when we need it

This is Drama Masks, a Bay Area performing arts column from a born San Franciscan and longtime theatre artist in an N95 mask. I talk venue safety and dramatic substance, or the lack thereof.

It was a bit heart-breaking to sit through one of Richard O’Brien’s trademark Rocky Horror musical numbers. No, I don’t mean “Time Warp,” I mean “I’m Going Home.” The song has always been an outlier in O’Brien’s hilariously hedonistic musical: Whereas most of the other numbers are defined by off-the-wall excess and building crescendos, “I’m Going Home” is a sad ballad about realizing the party’s over, but trying to celebrate that it happened at all, rather than mourn its ending. It’s no wonder that the song is occasionally covered by other musicians (including Misfit Cabaret’s Kat Robichaud) as an out-of-context torch song.

The Oasis and Ray of Light co-production of The Rocky Horror Show (through November 1 at Oasis, SF) features club co-founder D’Arcy Drollinger as Dr. Frank-N-Furter seated in front of a piano, playing the song under a spotlight. As this happens, the club’s upstage projection screen plays clips of Drollinger playing the role over the years. The video footage ranges from “decent” to “crappy” and every wonderful stage in between. The result is akin to when Johnny Cash covered NIN’s “Hurt”: it turned an already-downbeat song into a self-eulogy. If you ever want to know what will be lost when Oasis closes its doors this year, just watch D’Arcy sing this song and you’ll understand. 

But, hey, that’s the final act of the show.

Before that, you’ve got two-plus hours of SF’s beloved drag club going out with a bang (though this isn’t their final show) by sticking to their Hallowe’en tradition of performing the 1973 musical equivalent of Oscar Wilde’s wet dreams. Not only that, but the film version turned 50 this year, adding another milestone to keep in mind. That’s five decades of “the show no one wanted to make” having shown greater longevity than most award-winning classics. Five decades of taking a near-Dadaist approach to theatre norms by welcoming—nay, requiring—that the audience heckle the show. Five decades of its songs acting as a siren for outcasts, oddballs, and (lest we forget) countless queer kids to let them (us) know that there’s nothing wrong with not fitting in. Quite the contrary: It’s what makes you special.

Shave a couple decades off and you could easily be talking about Oasis itself. Earlier today, I received a press notice about this year’s version of Golden Girls Live: The Christmas Episodes, the show co-created by Drollinger’s Oasis co-founder, the late, great Heklina. The timing is so funny you could cry.

But again, there’ll be time for that later.

First, there’s the matter of getting into Oasis. News of its impending closure is said to have boosted the numbers for its final crowds. (As of this writing, Rocky Horror has already added extra dates.) Combine that with a beloved musical and the opening night audience was big enough to where people had to enter in 15-minute groupings. Naturally, a number of folks dressed as their favorite characters. 

Upon entering to the bar area, we get to watch the wedding of Betty and Ralph, played by audience members waiting in the queue beforehand. It’s a lovely lil ceremony to which I was sorry to have not brought a gift. But that leads to the bass-heavy EDM version of the infinitely-quotable “Science Fiction Double-Feature,” as sung by the Usherette (simply known as “Em”) from atop the bar. It was honestly hard to see from the VIP section up front, but when you know every word by heart, it’s easy to be in-sync with the rest of the room.

This is followed by Brad and Janet (Julio Chavez and Lisa Frankenstein) going through their “Dammit, Janet” routine that leads them to the Frankenstein Place, as the wedding’s officiant is revealed to be our humble narrator with a Southern drawl (Ryan Patrick Welsh). After that, we’re off to the club proper to see the house itself.

This is the one area where things came to a standstill, as the show doesn’t continue until all of the groups have entered. It took almost half an hour for everyone get settled and the show to continue.

But once it did, hoo-boy. I’m glad I mentioned Oscar Wilde above, because D’Arcy’s always been the “nothing exceeds like excess”-type. That’s why you now have a version of Rocky Horror that adds in as much BDSM as possible, includes several seizure-inducing strobe lights, and has Frank’s under-the-covers tryst with Brad punctuated by, let’s say, a “hosing down.” It’s as if D’Arcy is actively daring the DEI-hating DOGE-bags in the White House to get their panties in a twist about the modern-day Gommorah that is SF, and every moment of it is glorious.

Even without the strobes and EDM-remixed soundtrack (as always, I’m glad I brought my earplugs), the experience is a bit of a sensory overload. That’s the point: Rocky Horror has always been a celebration of extremes as a response to conservative oppression. It’s one of the reasons this production feels particularly timely. Putting asides the anniversary milestones and impending closure of the club, the spirit of Rocky Horror goes hand-in-hand with that of the costumed protestors confronting the federal troops in Chicago and Portland. We’ve spent the past few months learning that “joy is an act of rebellion”, which is why there’s magic to be found in an entire audience singing “Don’t dream it, be it” in perfect harmony.

There’s so much glorious excess in Rocky Horror, that it’s all too easy to leave things out. There’s Joe Greene, trixxie carr, and Cheetah Biscotti as Riff Raff, Magenta, and Columbia, respectively. There’s Samuel Rosario as the gold-Speedo’d title character. There’s Daniel Harvey’s costumes, Sophia Craven’s lights, and Laundra Tyme’s fabulous wigs.

I realize I’ve said almost nothing about the main plot; mostly because I assume everyone reading this knows it as well as they know Romeo & Juliet, but also because this production’s greatest achievement is getting the viewer to lose themself in the experience. It’s hard to take critical notes when you don’t want to take your eyes off the stage.

The few times I did, I was glad to have my Flo Mask on, as the CO² levels on my Aranet4 peaked at 3,168ppm before the final bow. I recall only two other people masked that night.

After the Phantoms have danced for during intermission and our cast have closed the show singing “Superheroes,” D’Arcy—still dripping from any number of fluids sprayed about—took to the stage for closing statements. There were the usual thanks to the audience and an apparent amazement to have done the role for “ten straight years”. There was also gratitude for making a place for this sort show, even as the club counts the days ‘til its closure: “Thank you for keeping San Francisco fucking San Francisco!”

Surrounded by the half-naked cast and a receptive audience, D’Arcy ended the night by turning one of the show’s best lines into a rallying cry: “Don’t dream it, be it!”

Then we did the “Time Warp” again. That’s why this production of Rocky Horror works so well: On both the micro and macro level, it’s the perfect Oasis show.

THE ROCKY HORROR SHOW runs through November 1 at Oasis, SF. Tickets and further info here.