Illustration by Lucas Olscamp/ The Gazelle

If you were to attend one of the many midnight screenings of The Rocky Horror Picture Show shown across the world on a Friday night, you may find yourself among quite an overwhelming, and possibly terrifying, community. Walking into the cinema as a Rocky virgin, I found myself marked at the entrance with a large ‘V’ in red lipstick across my forehead. I made my way through the mob of curled black wigs, feather boas and laced corsets, and I found a seat amongst a series of pale-faced fans who had already begun to scream out song lyrics before the show even began. A friend had convinced me to attend the screening earlier that week by telling me it’d be “a show I’d never forget,” and they were right.

For the next hour and forty minutes I sat in the theatre and was seduced into a world of gothic burlesque and dark comedy whose campy songs and dances pulled the audience up from their seats and paraded them through the aisles. I watched as rice was thrown, names were called, gloves were snapped and members of the audience even stood before the screen and performed the actions on screen word for word.

When it was over, I was exhausted, and looking around I found myself indulging in the embrace of a newfound community, a community that was surprisingly welcoming. Even though I was covered in glitter and sweat, I felt amazing. Before I could leave, a stranger dressed in little more than a golden speedo and a blonde wig took his hand and smeared the ‘V’ from my forehead and exclaimed, “See you next week!” Rocky Horror is one of the defining examples of a cult film phenomenon. Though the definition of a cult film is debated, they are widely characterized by their active and lively communal following. Highly committed and rebellious in their appreciation, cult audiences are frequently at odds with cultural conventions — they prefer strange topics and allegorical themes that rub against cultural sensitivities and resist dominant politics. Cult films transgress common notions of good and bad taste and challenge genre conventions and coherent storytelling. Among the techniques cult films use are intertextual references, gore, loose ends in storylines and the creation of a sense of nostalgia. Often, cult films have troublesome production histories, and in spite of often-limited accessibility, they have a continuous market value and a long-lasting public presence.

In the world of cult films, Rocky Horror takes the cake and has the largest cult following of its genre. Cult films are often the result of “accidents” and invariably have complex, confused, controversial, or bumpy origins, and Rocky Horror is no exception. The cult following of the show began in 1976 at the Waverly Theatre, in New York, as a joke. When played as a prank to moviegoers of the theatre, it was surprisingly well-received and developed into a standardized ritual of weekly screenings.

Rocky Horror helped shape conditions of cult film's transition from art-house to grind-house style, but also gave way to a movement of film culture that allowed audience members to not just observe the film, but actively partake in the screening. These participants frequently consider themselves outsiders, renegades roaming the borders of what is morally acceptable. Often this attitude exhibits itself in a fierce and radical refusal to condone regular movie going in a penchant desire to disrupt such practices, for instance through inappropriate behavior, such as disturbing sounds or call and response interactions.

Participants of the Rocky Horror following find a connection and sense of community at the screenings, and in many ways the cult film gatherings are not far from their spiritual counterparts. The screenings act as social gatherings and allow individuals of various backgrounds to come together under one roof to create a community. It is equally possible to see these events as more spontaneous, as an unplanned or even imagined sense of camaraderie and fellowship before, during or after a screening. Contrary, though, to many spiritual gatherings that are constructed to bring together members under one common faith or belief, the cult phenomenon of Rocky Horror does the opposite. These screenings allow individuals to find solace in a rebellion, or even escape, from belief. The costumes function as masks expressing a sense of liberation and purge from societal norms of gender, sexuality and even class. Leaving behind their daily performances of self, the participants are free to explore a community that’s worlds away from their own. Whether you’re a Rocky virgin or a veteran, inside the blackened room of the cinema, a community is formed. Though sometimes frightening and almost always absurd, the bond created here is strong and remains long after the credits roll.