Don't dream It - Be it!

September 17th was a very important, very exciting day for me. 

That evening, across the country, there was a live broadcast of the anniversary show for The Rocky Horror Picture Show. It marked 40 years of corsets and stockings and time-warps.

The show itself was superb. Stunning in an unconventional way (I expect). But few people understand exactly what this show means to me.

I’ve been watching the show regularly (at least once a fortnight, if not more) for years now, all throughout my adolescence. When I first saw the show however, I was very young, maybe 13.

Now, when I was 13, there is no denying that I looked just like some dorky, spotty, mousey little kid. I was tom-boyish and lacking any form of girly frame. I was very, very uncomfortable in my body, I was very worried about trying to be sexy, and I was very worried about trying to be myself. I wasn’t very popular at school, and I definitely wasn’t considered very attractive.

My self-confidence, my ability to believe in myself, and believe I could be anything I wanted to be, was practically non-existent.

And then, I watched Rocky Horror, and I fell in love.

Now, Rocky Horror is all about freedom. The freedom to be whatever you wanna be, and to be proud of it.

“Don’t dream it – Be it!”

This message became more and more important to me, the older I got, and the more I watched the show.

It helped me realize that sexuality, promiscuity, confidence, your own body, were all things you shouldn’t be afraid of or ashamed of. I still struggle with these things everyday, but I gain a little confidence with every smile I get, and it really helps.

Tim Curry – love of my life and the most famous Frank-n-Furter of all time – is absoloutely my hero, because he is the pinnacle of all these messages. His character portrays such confidence, and sassiness and shamelessness, that it’s just impossible not to fall in love with him. I nearly always weep at the end when his character dies, because I don’t care how psychotic he was being, he represents the death of freedom – he is the very image of freedom, and they kill him, because they deem him unfit for society.

This film means so much to me, that when I had the chance to finally see the broadway version on stage, of course I was gonna go for it. But then, there was a problem.

I loved Tim Curry so much; as he played the role I’d known and fallen for years ago. I was worried that someone else (namely David Bedella, who takes on the role in the version this time round), just wouldn’t give me the same feeling of passion deep down in my soul. I’m very faithful to Tim Curry, he is tremendously important to me and my growth and development as a person, that I felt wrong going to root for someone else in his place.

Classic Tim...

...versus the "newcomer." (photo from loganriehl.com - not mine)

It was a very real moral dilemma, that honestly kept me awake once or twice. But I decided to give him a shot, and see how it went. I do not regret that decision.

Although I will always stick by Tim, David Bedella stepped into the shoes of this legend (he he!) remarkably well. He carried it in a very different way, but still managed to exude sass and sensuality perfectly (well, near perfectly). His performance of the role gave me a great deal of joy, and as it usually would, even though I know what is coming, I cried when he performed his final song and then was killed. It was incredibly emotional for me, just as it always is.

Not my photo - taken from google (credits to Nathan Amzi as far as I'm aware)

And the other wonderful thing about going to see it in the cinema, is meeting other people with just as much of a passion for it as me. These people cheered and heckled just like you would at any Rocky show – we were united, together in our enjoyment of something age old and wonderful, that must have been inspiring people for generations. We met another couple dressed up in the foyer, who loved our costumes so much that they gave us cool little badges to keep, and took photo’s of us. We got stopped in co-op on the way home for a photo opportunity as well.

Now that would never happen in everyday life, obviously, but do you know how good it feels that you can make someone smile like that? Where people would usually just look down and ignore you, they’re engaging with you – and it’s because you are part of a tradition that forms around freedom and confidence. You are putting on a mask, but maybe, just maybe, you are just putting on a true form of yourself? 

That’s how it feels for me. It feels like I’m releasing the person I’m really meant to be, and for one night, for just a little while, I was without shame, without anxiety, I was just in my element.

I’m moved to tears as I write this, for several reasons I suppose. One is the utter feeling of joy and exhilaration that comes from the experience itself, and then another is the sadness that it has passed and might not happen again for another 10 years.

Then there is another, all together more heartbreaking reason (for me anyway). It’s because, no matter how hard I dream and wish and try, it is a very real likelihood, that I will never ever meet my hero, and I will never be able to thank him and know him and finally settle that bit of my being to rest. My one real dream in the world, if I could do anything for a day, I’d love to spend even just 10 minutes with Tim Curry. To even be in the presence of this icon of sexual and emotional liberation, this wonderfully sexy, beautiful, amazing man, would be the most indescribably wonderful thing for me; it would lay a lot of my passion to rest, it would satiate my soul (at least for even a little while).

I write endless e-mails and letters that I mean to send, but then I begin to think, ‘well what’s the point? I’m sure it’ll never get to him anyway’. It breaks my heart, but that’s the truth. I wish to every known possible deity that the chance that he would read it were wide enough that I could try, but I know it isn’t – because I know he values his privacy. It has been many, many years since he performed that role, and he has played tonnes of successful rolls since, that I’m sure, given his age and health, he’d rather forget about it all. 

Tonight I saw a video of him during a get-together with the old cast. He only spoke for a few seconds, and he struggled I guess, but he was alive and well, and it was just a small moment of joy, because he was there, and he was just as wonderful as he always was – always is.

The dream is still there. It’s still alive, and I cling to it, like a comforting blanket that has that annoying itchy label – a constant reminder that it’s wonderful, but still not attainable.

Don’t dream it – Be it.

So if you’re out there Tim – Thank you, so much; I wish you all the health and happiness you have given me. 

and me.

My idol...