Rocky Horror Ensues

In the tiny Himalayan kingdom of Bhutan, visitors to monasteries are blessed with a bop on the head from a wooden phallus. According to myth, a long-dead saint cockslapped evil spirits into submission, and ever since the penis has stood, as it were, as a divine symbol. Here in America, we have our own prurient tradition of purification: The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Since 1975, the geeky saturnalia – based on the musical-cum-B-movie about alien trannies – has grown into a nationwide cult. Each showing varies in its particulars, but they’re all shameless and interactive: a night for costumes, dancing, deep-throating bananas, throwing stuff, and shouting ribald, adlibbed lines at the cast of obsessives who are re-enacting the movie onstage. The show hitting South Florida this month has two things going for it: it’ll be overseen by a 20-year veteran of Rocky Horror, Frank Connell, and alcohol will be available. Granted, it might not compare, spiritually, to a Bhutanese dick beating – but the hermit kingdom admits only a few thousand tourists a year, whereas in Transsexual, Transylvania, everyone’s welcome. The show starts at midnight tonight at Cinema Paradiso (503 SE Sixth St., Fort Lauderdale), and will recur every other weekend indefinitely. Tickets cost $5. Call 954-525-3456, or visit www.fliff.com.
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Penn Bullock