Let’s Do The Time Warp Again!

Wow, two posts in one week! Must be a sign that exams have passed (for the moment)!
Well, earlier this week I fulfilled my cultural quota by experiencing my first New Orleanian parade. Then yesterday I decided to actually participate in something on my university’s campus (other than classes), and I went to a school production of The Rocky Horror Show! You read that right, The Rocky Horror Show, not The Rocky Horror Picture Show. They’re different. Before Rocky Horror’s debut on the silver screen, it was a musical stage production that took the 70’s by storm. This year marks the 40th anniversary of the movie version, so it’s a very special year this year, but the original Rocky Horror Show actually first hit the stage in 1973. In that year it won the Evening Standard Theatre Award for Best Musical, and when it was adapted into a movie in 1975 it had the longest running film release in history, a record that still stands to this day. Despite this fact, however, the film was basically considered a flop in its early days, until a small group in New York City began to have a little fun with the show.

A lot of people refer to certain movies as “cult classics,” but I think none embody that term in the truest extent quite as well as Rocky Horror. Why do I say that? Because going to see a Rocky Horror production feels a lot like participating in a cult! Nowadays, because of it’s star history on both the stage and screen, it’s very traditional for a local acting group to take over a movie theatre and screen the movie to a live audience while simultaneously acting out the play down below the screen. It sounds bizarre, but it’s some of the best fun! Most major cities have their own acting group (shoutout to the Rich Weirdos of Orlando!) that does the production anywhere from once a year to once a week. And yep, there are people that come back to watch. Every. Single. Time. It’s a common practice in the beginning of each show for the cast to do some sort of countdown. They make the whole theatre stand up, and say things like, “If you’re seen this production over a hundred times, sit the hell down.” And they will count down by random intervals until the only ones standing are first-timers, or as they’re referred to, the “Rocky Horror Virgins.” And the virgins are certainly in for a treat, because if you’ve never seen the show live before, you probably have no idea what you got yourself into.

As the film garnered popularity in certain pockets in the US throughout the 70’s, audience members who had seen the show many times began talking back to the screen, saying things that were timed well with the lines so that they combined together to make people laugh. For instance, the narrator has a line in which there is a long pause and then he says, “It’s true.” So it’s the perfect opportunity to ask an outrageous question (I believe last night someone shouted, “Is it true you had sex with Donald Trump?”), which if it is timed correctly elicits thunderous laughter. Fan groups also began dressing up to go to the theatre in outrageous costumes, and groups which became known as “shadow casts” got together to perform parts of the show during the movie. The fun spread like wildfire. Certain “callback” lines became staples, like shouting “asshole” every time Brad’s name is said, and then shouting “slut” after Janet’s name. Just as this show was breaking boudaries in theatre production and culture, it was breaking the rules of what it meant to be a member of the audience. Many local groups have their own unique traditions, and their own lines that they like to ad lib. But everyone, virgin or veteran, is encouraged to play along and add their own flair.

While I lived and worked in Orlando, I was able to see the Rich Weirdos perform their shadow cast version at the movie theatre in City Walk three times. I went in costume my first time, wearing a black and orange corset-style leotard and fishnets, which was loads of fun. I had the pleasure of bringing a few different friends to experience the show as well, some for their first time. I always tell first-timers the same thing I was told: first off, nothing in the entire world is off limits to make fun of during the show, so take a deep breath and let go of any anything in your mind that could be offended. Secondly, you’re not going to watch a movie. You’re going in order to participate in a fun experience. Do not attempt to hear what is going on in the movie, and just go with the flow.

So now that I’ve talked way more than I expected to about the history, the shadow cast traditions, and the Rich Weirdos, what I really wanted to tell you about was the play! How did it compare? Well first of all, I was absolutely blown away by the raw talent of that cast! So many fabulous voices. Each actor and actress really embodied their role and I was thoroughly impressed. The costumes were incredible, the set was versatile and functional, and the music was performed by a live band!!

But as I expected, the stage show was definitely a different experience. One thing that I hadn’t even thought about was the age of the audience members. When you go to one of the movie screenings with a shadow cast, the movie is rated R, so you have to be 18. And the shows are almost always screened at midnight, so no one brings kids. For this reason no one has any qualms spewing profanities or making extremely overt sexual references. But I was surprised at how many parents brought their kids to this show! I wondered if maybe they were somehow related to a cast member, or if the parents simply didn’t know. In any case, the language was toned down just a bit. There is always an opening spiel, reminding audience members not to hurt any of the cast members and not to throw anything directly at other people, etc., but it’s usually done by making as many offensive comments as possible. The usherette who introduced the show (shoutout to Annie! You’re fabulous!) was absolutely fantastic, and walked a fine line between tastefully theatrical and wildly inappropriate. It was a perfect balance. Secondly, this show had a lot more “virgins” than I was used to (and it didn’t even involve a virgin sacrifice…) so a lot of people didn’t know what to do. Thankfully there were a large number of cast members placed strategically around the room to shout out traditional lines, but most of the audience didn’t chime in. (And there’s always that one guy who knows so many more callbacks than the rest of the audience, and has a voice loud enough to be heard by the entire theatre. Shoutout to that guy for being awesome) And in true theatrical form, the actors paused politely so that they could be heard whenever people did shout. So as a result, for the first time I actually heard the majority of what was being said on stage. A lot more of the lines made so much more sense to me, and I also now understand why certain things get shouted when they do.

Perhaps the most disappointing: no one got up and danced to the Time Warp. I was in shock. A few stragglers attempted to dance in the aisles, but they sat back down when everyone else remained in their seats. I mean, COME ON PEOPLE!! Everyone knows the Time Warp, even if it’s your first time at the show! I mean really, it’s just a jump to the left, and a step to the right . . . Thankfully everyone did dance at the end. I think if I have any complaints at all, it’s that the cast didn’t do more to encourage us to get up and dance.

All-in-all, the show was fantastic. I couldn’t have asked for a better way to celebrate Halloween, and I am definitely excited that I have now experienced the show in its original form. It was well worth it. Wish you could have seen it too? Well guess what, they’re putting it on again TONIGHT! 8pm, Tulane University’s Dixon Hall (right next to Tulane’s uptown campus library). $10 for students, $15 for adults. If you’re in the area, you should be there. If you want a bit of extra fun, buy yourself a participation kit for $5 extra! If you’ve never seen the show before, it’s a good intro to this true cult classic. If you’ve seen the movie in the comfort of your own home but never seen it live, then it doesn’t count. You’re still a Rocky Horror virgin, and you have to come out and see it for yourself live.

And perhaps one of these days I’ll gather up some friends and make it over to see New Orleans’ shadow cast group, The Well-Hung Speakers. It’s definitely on my bucket list. So for now, Happy Halloween friends! And remember, if you find yourself stranded with a flat tire in the rain and decide to go to the nearest castle to use their phone…castles don’t have phones!

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BOO to you!

It’s official y’all, today I ventured down into the French Quarter and survived my first parade! Can I call myself a New Orleanian yet? Already I have too many beads than I know what to do with (and for the record, I got these beads by looking super excited and happy and waving my hands, and walking straight up to the floats and asking for them. No removal of clothing was necessary). Today was definitely an adventure.

With only a week until Halloween, the Krewe of Boo hosted their annual Halloween parade through Downtown New Orleans. It’s similar to a Mardi Gras parade, but with far less people, less craziness, and less waiting around. It was honestly even less stressful than a Disney parade, and that’s saying a lot. But coming from Disney, I know what it’s like to camp out for a spot hours in advance. When I worked audience control in Magic Kingdom, I was shocked that some people would stake out their spots up to 3 hours in advance of the parade! Like, really? There are so many other things to do in Magic Kingdom. But whatever. So, being new to New Orleans and being relatively clueless about this particular parade, I thought it would be best to arrive as early as possible. We had no idea what to expect. It was a first for both my roommate and I.

We arrived a little over an hour before the parade started and there were police cars everywhere, just waiting to direct traffic when the time was right. They were still allowing cars to drive in both directions, so that was a good sign. And looking up and down the street, we could see only small clusters of people waiting for the parade. There was still plenty of room left, and plenty of time. What do you with that kind of time on your hands? It’s New Orleans. You get yourself a drink (or two)! So armed with some delicious cups of sangria (because in New Orleans, you can get alcohol to-go), we then found ourselves a ledge to sit on from which we would have a great view of the parade. It was great for people watching. We saw a bridal party walk by (and we saw a Second Line from down the street, although whether it was the same bride and groom we have no idea), and we saw plenty of fabulous costumes ranging from adorable children to rather “out there” adult costumes. But such is Halloween.

Once the parade finally rolled up in all of its glory, the crowds (still not nearly as crowded as Disney parade crowds) scooted right up as close as they could get to the parade floats without literally being run over. The Disney Cast Member in me screamed internally. I watched people cross between parade floats nonchalantly and get so close to the floats that they could reach out and touch them! But, when in Rome, right? So I scooted up closer too. As per usual, I took far too many pictures, but I forced myself to put the camera down each time a legit float passed directly in front of us so that I could beg for whatever goodies they were throwing. I was a little disappointed because they seemed pretty stingy with the stuff they threw, but I quickly learned that in order to get stuff you either have to be a cute little kid or an aggressive adult. Needless to say, between the two of us we ended up with more beads than we actually need, 7 plastic cups, 3 keurig cups (Pumpkin flavored coffee courtesy of PJs), 2 pralines, a skull lollipop, and a bag of pretzels. All-in-all, I’d say it was a pretty successful night.

As for the parade itself, well, nothing will ever compare to Boo to You. Nothing. But the floats were gorgeous, the dancers were fun, and I think the atmosphere is really what made the whole evening. We chatted with the people around us, we shared beads when people happened to catch a whole huge handful, we joked about the people we saw and the outrageous costumes, and just had an all around good time.

This is normally the point in my blog posts where I would say something thoughtful, or talk about the culture and how celebration is just ingrained into the New Orleans lifestyle, but I honestly don’t feel like I’ve immersed myself enough in the culture here to really comment on it. I’ve been so wrapped up in schoolwork and studying that I honestly haven’t done much else here in the city. This is one of my first actual outings (I know, that sounds pretty sad), and my first venture into the French Quarter since moving here. So I guess all I can say is that I’m very glad I actually gave myself a break from the school stuff, and it was a very worthwhile outing. I think I can officially cross something off my bucket list (which doesn’t actually exist yet. It’s a work in progress). New Orleans is certainly a city unlike any other. There is a strong sense of identity here, and a strong sense of belonging. I think this city exudes pride in their culture like nowhere I’ve really been before. And for that, I’m incredibly excited to get more involved and more immersed. I think I can safely say that after this little “practice round,” I’m a little more prepared and definitely more excited for Mardi Gras season to begin.

Happy Halloween y’all!

Things no one told me

No one told me that hearing words like, “He doesn’t deserve you,” wouldn’t help. Because I know they’re wrong, beyond a shadow of a doubt. No one told me that those words would actually hurt more for inexplicable reasons. No one told me that it would be easier to be mad at someone than to not have a single reason to hate them. Because no matter what else I’m feeling, hate and anger are not among my emotions. Unless you count the anger towards myself, which stings in a very visceral way. No one told me that hearing the words, “I thought you were going to get married,” and “You were perfect for each other,” wouldn’t help. Because I thought those thoughts too once. No one told me that I would feel the weight of disappointment from every person who had ever hoped for our marriage, and it would sit on my shoulders and mock me. No one told me that the answer to the question “What happened?” would be different every time, because there are some things that don’t fit nicely into words.

No one told me that being in my own room could be a source of pain, that the littlest things would serve as huge reminders. No one warned me how much effort it would take to tell myself to keep certain gifts because they were inherently meaningful, but they just so happened to come from him. No one told me how much it was possible for inanimate objects to be so steeped in memories that it was almost palpable. I never knew how much effort it would take to remember the happiness contained in those memories, and to not let them fall away into the abyss of sadness. I never knew how much it would feel like packing up and moving away. Each memory must be recalled, carefully protected and wrapped in bubble wrap, and tucked far away in some corner of my consciousness where I wouldn’t find it until I went looking for it. No one told me how mentally exhausting that would be.

I never knew that the tears I saw in movies, the big, fat teardrops that rolled down one’s cheeks and splashed onto surfaces below, could actually exist. I never knew that those tears could physically hurt. I’d read those words in books; I’d read about hot, stinging tears. I thought it was beautiful writing. I didn’t know it could be true. I didn’t know that my entire body could ache, that my legs would shake as I walked down the stairs, or that my chest would feel like it was holding that blanket they place on your body before an x-ray. I didn’t realize that those feelings would linger far beyond their welcome.

People will always tell you not to hate yourself, not to blame yourself. “Don’t beat yourself up,” they say. “It’s not your fault.” We live in a society that likes to be blameless, and they will do anything to place the blame on other people. But there is a value in accepting blame where it is due. And so hearing those words “It’s not your fault,” hurt far more than I expected them to. Because I know they’re wrong too. I know I can’t accept all the blame, I know it must be equally distributed. I am still the same logical person, trying to use reason to trudge through emotional waste. But some of the blame does belong to me, and I accept that. No one told me that it would actually hurt more to place all the blame on him, because I know he doesn’t deserve that punishment. I know it’s not his fault. And I know that he is accepting all of the blame anyway, and that hurts more than I could have imagined.

No one told me that hearing the words, “If he truly loves you, he’ll come back,” would hurt worst of all. Because they’re not true. Life doesn’t work that way. Truthfully, I know he loves me because he let me go. It’s the very fact that I know he loves me, and that I love him, which makes everything unbearable. Is it possible that somehow, years from now, our lives will collide in such a way that we will be together again? It’s conceivable. But thoughts like that are no comfort, because life continues moving forward. And so must we.