Producing The Rocky Horror Show might seem like a no-brainer, but it’s actually a challenge. How to make something feel fresh when audiences literally know their own lines by heart? Astoundingly, Dallas Theater Center manages to please everyone by offering an interpretation that adheres to tradition, yet still hides a few surprises up its garter belt.
It begins with Bob Lavallee’s immersive set, an (at times cheeky) in-the-round design that ensures the audience is as integrated in the production as the house band. Foe Destroyer, the Austin rockers seen onstage last spring at DTC in Fly By Night, here become an even bigger part of the action. The musicians are as decked out and glammed up as the actors (courtesy of Wade Laboissonniere), slinking around and often participating in the action, with the keyboardist and percussionist rooted in the center of Lavallee’s central rotating tower.
The second smart move director Joel Ferrell has implemented is the handheld video camera (operated with stealth by Cheyney Coles) that follows the cast. Projecting close-ups and wide shots onto two large screens at the rear of the stage is both a nod to the film’s B-movie inspiration and a clever wink at today’s obsession with reality TV. It’s a whole difference experience to watch Magenta (Julie Johnson) sing her face off or Columbia (Walter Lee) fall to pieces over the violent demise of Eddie (Liz Mikel) through extreme close-up.
Dan Domenech skews far from Tim Curry’s iconic film portrayal of Dr. Frank-n-Furter. His sweet transvestite is a jittery, coked-out drama queen, giddy with excitement over his latest hunky creation (Justin Labosco, bringing muscles but not much else) and thrilled to bits to welcome repressed squares Brad (Alex Organ) and Janet (Morgan Mabry Mason) to his kinky castle.
J. Brent Alford as the Narrator grounds the twisted tale with sonorous inflection, coolly batting aside shouted suggestions from the audience with a smirk. You are encouraged to participate, by the way. There’s a prop bag for sale in the lobby (no outside toast or toilet paper is allowed in—sorry), complete with instructions for when to pump that water gun and launch that confetti. Dressing up is also encouraged.
This inclusive vibe enhances the party atmosphere. Whether it’s a matinee or a midnight showing (there are two: Sept. 26 and Oct. 17), having fun is clearly the objective. You need look no further than the Phantoms (sexy, creepy ensemble members), who roam the aisles, corners of the stage, and sometimes even the ladders planted like stripper poles, to see that they’re having a blast. Choreographed by Ferrell and Jeremy Dumont (who leads the chorus in little more than a flowing brunette wig and a smile), the actors strut and grind their way through the show, committing wholeheartedly to Richard O’Brien’s deviant exploration of what comes from abandoning your inhibitions.
It’s obvious that the cast is enjoying this raunchy free-for-all—if you’re lucky, someone in the audience will shout something so unpredictable that the cast might momentarily break character to hiccup with laughter. Maybe it will be you.
