How much should Rocky Horror reinvent itself?

There are still callbacks throughout the show, with some getting more participation than others. When I saw it, there were still plenty of “slut!”s and “asshole!”s to describe Janet Weiss (a fantastic Stephanie Hsu) and Brad Majors (Andrew Durand), but some of the other recurring bits from the midnight movie got more of a muted response. (I do remember one “Describe your balls!” leveled at Rachel Dratch’s narrator.) Throwing rice or toast at the performers was right out, but a couple audience members do get brought on stage to do the “Time Warp.” This Rocky Horror tries to find a happy medium for both long-time fans and theatergoers who have spent sometimes hundreds of dollars for a seat in Studio 54. It aims to please both Rocky Horror Picture Show fans and fans of Broadway musicals. 

What this means, though, is that The Rocky Horror Show ends up being pretty conventional. Pinkleton and his creative team bring some inspired flourishes to the production—Singing mannequins! Alien chorus girls!—but the text itself resists too much reimagining. It’s fair to assume that a decent portion of the show’s audience wants it to be predictable because the participation is the appeal. Altering the show too much wouldn’t allow for the full Rocky Horror experience, at least not one that the creatures of the night, with their prepared callbacks, expect to participate in. 

As much fun as this experience is, it can’t help but feel a bit out of step with Rocky Horror‘s actual content, which is about bucking conformity and subverting expectations and good taste. It also feels a bit out of step with some of the most successful Broadway revivals in recent years, which, even if they haven’t altered their texts, have offered bold aesthetic reinventions. Sunset Boulevard traded the opulence of its original production for the stark surveillance of the camera in Jamie Lloyd’s 2024 revival. The current production of Cats reimagines the show as a queer ballroom scene. The recent Cabaret turned the theater into a nightclub. Of course, there have been plenty of traditional revivals in recent years too, but the counterculture of Rocky Horror seems like it should have more in common with these productions than, say, Gypsy. 

Would this kind of reinvention even be possible for Rocky Horror? Well, anything is possible, but it seems unlikely without alienating a significant portion of the potential audience. (Not for nothing, there are some younger queer people on the internet who do take issue with The Rocky Horror Picture Show‘s depiction of sexuality and consent who may be happy to see the text change, but that’s a whole other discussion.) Perhaps a better question is: How does Rocky Horror fit into culture in 2026? Is it a living thing that can be changed, or is it a ritual based in a specific community that will welcome new members if they follow the rules? The current revival points more toward the latter. 

But the conversation about audience participation suggests that there is still room for change, and there’s bound to be disagreement about whether this change is a good thing. 50 years ago, Studio 54 was a nightclub. Times Square was one of the seediest intersections anywhere; now, it’s a major tourist attraction. Rocky Horror, too, is less dangerous. Call Brad an asshole, but don’t be an asshole. It’s still a bit unclear when this production is asking people to play by midnight movie rules and when it wants people to behave like they’re in a Broadway theater. At times, this conflict can make the show feel like an artifact subject to a strict interpretation. But the fact that conflict still exists is a good thing, and bodes well for another interpretation another 50 years down the road.