There is a distinct magic in stepping off the bustling – but very wet from a rainy day – pavement of Manhattan and into the historical cocoon of Studio 54. When in NYC, I often find myself drawn to a venue that once defined the glittering, uninhibited peak of 1970s decadence. And I have great memories of seeing Alan Cumming here in Cabaret. It is the ultimate, deliciously warped playground for the Roundabout Theatre Company’s major Broadway revival of Richard O’Brien’s legendary cult classic, The Rocky Horror Show, currently playing on Broadway.
As a theatre enthusiast I also frequently reflect on how stage art shapes our understanding of values, community, and personal identity, I was eager to see how this 1973 countercultural phenomenon translates to a high-profile, nine-Tony-nominated Broadway production.
Personally, I remember growing up with the movie version in public showings back in Germany, like at the beautiful outdoor venue “Die Waldbuehne,” for which security control in the late 80s and early 90a amounted to checking for bags of rice, not to be thrown during the wedding scene early in the movie …
Directed by Sam Pinkleton – fresh off his triumph with Oh, Mary! – I had heard that this revival attempts to preserve the raw, punk-rock spontaneity of the original London fringe while delivering the polished spectacle demanded by today’s commercial theater. The star-studded ensemble, featuring Luke Evans, Stephanie Hsu, Rachel Dratch, and Juliette Lewis, infuses the air with infectious anticipation.
Yet, as I settled into my seat, a compelling question lingered: can a piece of theatre born from cheap, transgressive, anti-establishment rebellion survive the transition to a glittery, institutionalized Broadway stage? Or does the polished hand of commercial production inevitably sanitize its wild, beautiful, and rebellious spirit? Let’s see if we can do the time warp again.
The Sci-Fi and B-Movie Origins
At its core, The Rocky Horror Show operates as a brilliant, campy parody of mid-century science fiction and horror B-movies, subverted by the liberating energy of the late 1960s and early 1970s counterculture.
The plot follows Brad Majors and Janet Weiss, a pair of hyper-conventional, virginal college sweethearts from Denton, Ohio. When their car suffers a flat tire during a torrential rainstorm, they seek refuge in a nearby gothic mansion. Inside, they are swept into the bizarre, pansexual world of Dr. Frank-N-Furter, a charismatic “sweet transvestite” scientist from Transsexual, Transylvania. Frank is on the cusp of bringing his ultimate creation to life – a perfect, muscular blond man named Rocky.
Over a single madcap night, Frank systematically dismantles Brad and Janet’s puritanical defenses, seducing them both and awakening their deepest desires before his disgruntled servants, Riff Raff and Magenta, stage a cosmic coup.
The story’s origins trace back to creator Richard O’Brien’s own creative crossroads in 1972. After being dismissed from Andrew Lloyd Webber’s London production of Jesus Christ Superstar, O’Brien began writing a lighthearted, comedic script to pass the time between acting gigs. Inspired by British Carry On films, gothic literature, and double-feature picture shows, he crafted a script originally titled They Came From Denton High.
What O’Brien created was a safe, celebratory space for the marginalized and disenfranchised. It exposes the hidden sexual subtext of vintage sci-fi while offering a timeless fable about the loss of innocence, the acceptance of difference, and the reclamation of personal agency. In this 2026 revival, this foundational narrative remains completely intact, reminding us why audiences have embraced this weird, wonderful sanctuary for over fifty years, as detailed here.
Sonic Liberation
Musically, O’Brien’s score – originally arranged by Richard Hartley – is a masterclass in using classic three-chord rock-and-roll to chart the psychological transformation of its characters. The show’s sonic landscape begins with the iconic, nostalgia-drenched “Science Fiction/Double Feature”. From there, the music cleverly mirrors the characters’ internal geography. Brad and Janet initially sing the softest, safest pop, highlighted by “Dammit Janet” and the rarely performed ballad “Once in a While,” reflecting their rigid, virginal conformism.
As they cross the threshold into the mansion, the musical intensity deepens. The household servants deliver a driving, heavy rock beat with “The Time Warp,” physically and sonically destabilizing the couple. This paves the way for Frank-N-Furter’s grand entrance, “Sweet Transvestite,” a glam-rock anthem powered by distorted electric guitars and pure sexual bravado. The creation of Rocky introduces “The Sword of Damocles,” conveying existential panic through a driving beat, while “I Can Make You a Man” utilizes brassy, traditional music-hall tempos to mock mid-century physical culture. Eddie’s brief, explosive appearance in “Hot Patootie – Bless My Soul” brings a late-1950s rockabilly style, signifying an innocent era of youth rebellion that has been violently left behind.
As Brad and Janet undergo their sexual awakenings, their music dramatically shifts. By the time they reach the climactic Floor Show, they are clad in lingerie, confidently belting out the aggressive, uninhibited rock of “Rose Tint My World,” “Don’t Dream It, Be It,” and “Wild and Untamed Thing”.
The score culminates in Frank’s operatic, heartbreaking ballad “I’m Going Home,” a vulnerable and sweeping melody that shifts beautifully from theatrical melodrama to total existential defeat. This musical journey reminds us that true freedom is found in the song.
The Scenography of Trash and Tinsel
The defining triumph of the 2026 revival is the deliberate “trash-to-tinsel” design philosophy executed by the scenic design collective dots and costume designer David I. Reynoso. Eschewing a slick, over-produced Broadway aesthetic, director Sam Pinkleton prioritized a raw, DIY punk-rock energy.
The historic Studio 54 is completely transformed. Inside the auditorium, a massive, winding HVAC tube wrapped in green string lights hangs over the audience, symbolizing that the building is giving physical life to the show. The main curtain is made of what looks like the cheapest black metallic velour, which under Jane Cox’s lighting shifts into a shiny, plasticky sheen.
Reynoso’s costumes brilliantly celebrate this low-fi, accessible ethos, as the designers shared in an interview with Broadway World. Luke Evans’ Frank-N-Furter corset dress is crafted from actual black trash bags, stitched together with exposed trash-bag drawstring ribbons. Rachel Dratch’s Criminologist Narrator wears a brocade smoking jacket illustrated by Sonya Calderon with classic sci-fi imagery like King Kong and The Day the Earth Stood Still. Stephanie Hsu’s Janet wears a demure green wedding-guest dress, a subtle nod to the green lab coat Tim Curry wore in the 1975 film. Harvey Guillén’s Eddie wears a denim jacket adorned with Mexican Lotería cards and inscribed with Meat Loaf’s birth and death dates. Skeletons are dolled up, and the restrooms feature “Scott” brand toilet paper, providing delightful easter eggs for long-time fans who appreciate a clever theatrical gag.
Fractured Verdicts
Critical response to this revival has been highly polarized, reflecting a deep debate over the show’s place in modern theatre. Adam Feldman of Time Out New York awarded the production four stars, calling it a deliciously warped, starry ensemble piece, as Adam Feldman wrote in his four-star review. Feldman praised Luke Evans’ highly physical, muscular, yet playful and girlish interpretation of Frank-N-Furter, noting his refreshing spin on the character.
Conversely, Michael Sommers issued a lukewarm two-star review on New York Stage Review, calling the production “unmemorable” and devoid of genuine sex appeal or bizarre, transgressive atmosphere. Bob Verini was even harsher, labeling the staging an “overproduced, underconceived, superfluous revival”. Verini argued that the massive scale of Studio 54 and Jane Cox’s blazing lighting overwhelmed the show’s scrappy, low-fi soul, rendering the sexual themes toothless and “quaint” compared to contemporary queer theatre.
Personally, I am with Feldman and think Michael Sommers and Bob Verini either had a very bad day, didn’t like the source material to begin with or the show has evolved and improved since then. Oh well, as the German saying goes, “one can’t debate taste, said the monkey, bit into the soap bar and walked away.” It may also have been the audience on the Saturday night I saw Rocky Horror. About 1/3rd came in character, when the main staging opened we had oohs and aahs of awe going through the theatre. So the overall mood was electrifying.
The production’s handling of audience participation also triggered considerable debate. Historically dependent on spontaneous vocal callbacks, allegedly the 2026 management took a noncommittal stance, discouraging traditional call-outs with cautious lobby signage while simultaneously baking certain prompts into the show’s pacing. There was no confusion during the performance I attended – we talked back, finished sentences and interacted.
Pure fun!
Absolute Pleasure: My Final Verdict
Ultimately, to me the 2026 Broadway revival of The Rocky Horror Show at Studio 54 resolves its captivating paradox very well. Attempting to elevate a low-budget, countercultural cult classic into a high-scale commercial event, the creative team faced a nearly impossible artistic tightrope – and for me (and the audience I was part of) it worked amazingly well. The production’s “trash-to-tinsel” visual design and stellar performances make it a memorable celebration. Luke Evans and Stephanie Hsu lead a cast that infuses the production with deep joy and vibrant energy.
Even after half a century, O’Brien’s driving rock score and his message of self-acceptance remain a vital sanctuary. For those willing to let go of the past and step inside, the invitation to give oneself over to absolute pleasure remains completely irresistible, proving the eternal power of theatrical community.
All in attendance did tonight!
