Just a jump to the left...

[illusionofjoy]

Last night, at a quarter past 10:00, joi_division and I got into her car and drove up state route 28 to Oakmont. The Oaks Theater's Summer festival of Midnight Movies is in full swing and this weekend, for only one night, they were playing the queen of all midnight movies - The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

According to Joi, we made record time to The Oaks that night, which had less to do with my desire to see the film, than it did with my desire to prevent being stuck behind ass-draggers on the road while we were driving. There's nothing like a trip up route 28 to give a person a case of road rage. The interesting thing about this particular highway is that its condition seems to improve the further away from Pittsburgh one drives on it. The worst segment is the narrow, four-lane undivided stretch between the 40^th Street Bridge and the I-579 interchange.

Joi and I ended up parked outside of the theatre around quarter 'til eleven, sitting in the air-conditioned car to avoid the heat. For the past week, Pittsburgh has been at the mercy of an oppressive heat wave. Those without air-conditioning would be well advised to drown themselves in ice water. We got out of the car at 11:00PM, braving the heat to end up being the first people in line at the doorway to The Oaks.

ls56 and her friends showed up not long after us. Although we both knew that the other was going, we hadn't made any formal plans to meet up with each other there – especially since Joi and I wanted to sit in the back and observe the floorshow ahead of us while they wanted to actually participate. In fact, I couldn't even be arsed to "dress up" for the event, as Joi and I were busy with other things before we left.

As we stood in line, the lame-brained, no-life teenaged, hick losers of the area took what must have been two years of pent-up frustration over having no freaks to yell at and drove by the ever-lengthening queue outside of The Oaks. "Rocky Horror sucks," they screamed from the far side of the street, capping it off with the standard cliché, "you freaks!" After being taunted by members of the line, they drove back in the other direction, just to drive home their point. It was probably the highlight of their night. Most drivers simply opted to give the crowd odds looks, as they slowly passed by. My response was to give a wide grin and a big wave, which is infinitely more unsettling than a glare, given the circumstance.

It was 11:30 when the staff at The Oaks decided that we'd been stuck outside in the sweltering night time heat and cloud of insects for long enough. The threshold was unsealed and the queue began moving forward. After buying our tickets, Joi went ahead of me to lay claim to our seats while I procured the snack food items for the show. After getting soda and popcorn, went into the theatre proper and sat down next to my girl, resting my coat on the seat next to mine.

I am always in the habit of putting my coat down on the seat next tom mine, as is Joi. This effectively creates a buffer between myself and other patrons coming into the theatre. I have never felt any guilt in doing this because I have never been to a show so crowded that there would be a need for someone to pack in right next to me. This saves me to agitation of having to fight some oaf for the armrest, among other things. I had thought that everyone knew that a coat draped over a seat was the international symbol for, "taken – do not sit here." Once again, I was proven wrong.

The main advantage Joi and I had sitting in the back, besides not getting pummelled with props during the interactive portions of the film, was that we could watch everyone else walking in. It was an interesting mix of individuals and groups who showed up – some in costume and with props, others dressed as unobtrusively as Joi and myself. One group I did not appreciate, however, was a scrawny middle-aged man in a baseball cap and his four scruffy-looking rug rats.

The man and his brood began to file into our row, which wasn't a reason in of itself to become annoyed, despite the fact that Joi and I had been enjoying having the back row all to ourselves. However, the man quickly crossed the line into unacceptable behaviour. "Okay, kids," he called out to his little rat-children, "all the way over!" He then began to sit down on the seat next to me with no regard for the fact that there was a coat draped over it!

I quickly thrust my arm over the chair, blocking him from moving in any further while quickly vocalising my objections. He gave me the look of a retard who had just peed himself and didn't know any better, "what? What's the problem?" I looked him straight in the eye and bluntly said, "it's a buffer – thank you!" For a split second he gauged whether or not to challenge me before moving over one seat and saying, "okay, okay, be cool. But if it gets crowded in here..." I gave him another glare. At that point, the theatre was only half-full and by the time the show started, most of the seats were occupied, but there were still some places left open. Seeing as how the man was uncultured enough to try and sit upon a coat keeping a chair in reserve, once the lights went down, I quickly moved my coat to the back of my seat, lest some thoughts of cheap revenge were to enter his Cro-Magnon skull.

When the lights went down, the call-out began immediately, with the first chants being, "fuck the virgins!" It is a Rocky Horror tradition that those who have not seen the film on the big screen – a.k.a.: "virgins" – have to be "initiated" before they can view the film unmolested. feministhippie told me that when she first saw Rocky Horror in the theatre, she had to show everyone her ass. Now, that would have been a great show. In any case, being that this is Pittsburgh, no virgin asses were shown. Instead, the veterans of Rocky Horror all gather in a circle around the uninitiated and yelled, "fuck you!" Given my high expectations of decadence and debauchery, I was kind of disappointed.

The film itself went on as expected, with props being thrown and non-sequitors being called at the screen. Unfortunately, audience members couldn't seem to get their lines straight half of the time, often resulting in a jumbled mess of words. There were also instances when people were trying too hard to outdo each other and taking things just a bit too far.

Wisely, before the showing of the film, The Oaks had posted a list of which props were and were not allowed.

Allowed:

• rice
• newspapers
• air-triggered water pistols
• flashlights
• rubber gloves
• noisemakers
• confetti
• toilet paper
• unbuttered toast
• party hats
• bells
• playing cards

Restricted:

• candles
• lighters
• open flames
• hot dogs
• eggs
• produce
• spray liquids other than water

Despite the prop restrictions, both Joi and I had the same thought: poor Oaks. It really is a lovely theatre and the two of us kind of felt sorry for the staff members who would be stuck cleaning up rice, toast and toilet paper the next day. Most films in the Midnight Movie series get shown twice – once at midnight on Saturday (technically early Sunday morning) and again Sunday at 10:00PM. The Rocky Horror Picture Show was only played once. Furthermore, the usual films that get played during the Oaks on a Sunday afternoon weren't running.

It also occurred to me that The Rocky Horror Picture Show is a film that can never be enjoyed simply as a film in the theatre ever again. True, it's fun to filk the hell out of it, play with props and yell at the screen and true, one can always rent the DVD and watch it at home, but since when does a home-viewing of any film compare to that of the theatre? It doesn't! You can buy the biggest TVs on the market today and the best home theatre system available; you can pop your own popcorn and buy your own snacks, but it still doesn't compare to the true theatre experience. It is a pale imitation at best, one that is utterly controllable and unexciting. If you need to go to the bathroom, press pause and take a break – no risk of missing a scene there. Even the biggest TVs aren't as big as the ultra-reflective rectangle at the front of a cinema. The popcorn popped in your home will never smell like the concession stand of a real theatre.

Of course, this sort of nostalgia doesn't apply to the vulgar multiplexes that are attached to today's suburban strip malls. I reserve it solely for that endangered species known as the small-town theatre; the type of place with only one or two screens, which is located in the central business district. These places are a quickly dying breed. Right before I left Potsdam, the local Roxy 2 had just been converted into a five-screen multiplex. Small-town Potsdam was well on it's way to becoming the suburb of nowhere city.

Joi and I left The Oaks that night having mostly enjoyed the experience, but a little thoughtful as well. She has the Rocky Horror Picture Show on DVD and we can watch it anytime. We could also yell at the screen in her apartment or stay silent as we choose. Again, no such choice in the theatre, which is a shame and yet isn't as well. Interesting duality, I think.

Comments

[joi-division.livejournal.com]

The way they were screaming "fuck the virgins!" was at a frenzied pitch and almost...carnal. It seemed like they were going to eat the virgins alive. To then just hear, "Fuck You!"...well, was kind of disappointing.

And yeah, everyone trying to out do each other in screaming at the screen was a little too much. A huge mass of mumbling.