The Rocky Horror Show limped to Bristol this week, weighed down by a tired bag of nostalgia.
This show, as much as it is fun and outrageous, is dated. One only needed to look at the audience of middle-aged women in fishnet stockings and wigs drooling over an innocent looking Rocky to feel that the Timewarp had started to slow with age.
Even the production values felt a bit cranky with ear-piercing screeches from the actor’s microphones.
Credit should be given to narrator Michael Starke, better known as Brookside’s Sinbad and Corrie’s Jerry Morton. He is much better on stage and handled jokes about his fledgling career marvellously.
David Bedella’s Frank ‘N’ Furter was delicious in drag whilst Dominic Tribuzio did delicious in hot pants. Kara Lane’s Magenta was fiesty and vivacious.
Recognition should also go to Janet Bird’s set design. The moving ladders and the glimpses of the band tucked away behind the set were a clever use of the space.
The real stars of the show were the audience. You can spot a Rocky Horror ‘virgin’ a mile off.
Rocky lives on, but with slightly worn-out stilletos.
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