The Rocky Horror Show

In brief:

I should have known we were in for a bumpy ride when the "warm up" email contained information on sexual health. No wonder the show is selling like hot cakes. Last night's opening of The Rocky Horror Show at the Mediterranean Conference Centre turned Valletta's Republic Hall into a gleefully unhinged Halloween laboratory. Produced by Arthaus and the MCC, Richard O'Brien's cult rock musical arrived with a Maltese cast, a live five-piece band, and a production design that understood the show's central joke: horror-movie clichés are much more fun when everyone is wearing sequins. Overall this is a reminder that Malta can increasingly hold its head up high against the West End.

In detail:

The evening began, as it should, with audience participation. Alright, not everyone (you know who you are) but fishnets, corsets, feather boas and glitter filled the room, while the production encouraged the crowd to learn the Time Warp and join the famous callbacks. This is not for the faint hearted and it is not polite, sit-back theatre. Rather it is a party with a plot, and the MCC audience embraced the invitation with enthusiasm.

First staged in June 1973, The Rocky Horror Show began as a small-scale London production in a 63-seat theatre, with horror-film star Vincent Price reportedly among the opening-night audience. The show grew and evolved into a distinctive blend of B-movie horror, science fiction, glam rock and sexual liberation.

Richard O'Brien's score and book follow Brad and Janet, a strait-laced couple whose car breaks down outside the castle of Dr Frank-N-Furter, a self-described "sweet transvestite from Transsexual, Transylvania." What follows is a riotous collision of Frankenstein imagery, rock 'n' roll, camp comedy and rebellion against conformity. The show's longevity owes much to its refusal to take itself seriously: it invites the audience to shout back, dance, dress up and become part of the fiction. As the song says, "don't dream it, be-e-e it!"

That spirit was fully present in Valletta last night. Directed by Lucienne Camilleri, with Ryan Paul Abela as musical director and Amy Caruana Dingli as choreographer, this production very much treats the material not as a museum piece but as a living, audience-facing celebration.

Joseph Zammit led the company as Dr Frank-N-Furter, and he gave the role both command and mischief. It is one hell of a challenge when the late, great Tim Curry's performance is in everyone's mind. But his voice carried the necessary theatrical swagger, particularly in Frank's bigger numbers, while retaining the character's seductive, dangerous playfulness.

Cliff Zammit Stevens and Talitha Dimech, as Brad and Janet, provided the show's comic and emotional spine. Their wonderful performances traced the characters' journey from repressed innocence to gleeful abandon, and both displayed strong, secure voices that cut cleanly through the live band.

David Ellul made a striking Rocky, bringing physical presence and vocal power to the role. His lithe, slightly muscled body plays a crucial role in the general abandon. Neil Cutajar, doubling Eddie and Dr Scott, delivered two very different flavours of comic menace, while Stephen Oliver's Narrator gave the audience a reliable accomplice for its callbacks. And bravo to Stephen for donning his own fishnets and high heels when the time came.

Andrew Buhagiar's Riff Raff had the required nasal, otherworldly edge, and the power of his voice was striking; Bettina Mattocks brought smoky intensity to Magenta; and Bertha Farrugia's Columbia gave the show much of its tap-dancing, jazz-hands energy. Francesca Scerri's Usherette opened the night with a warm, nostalgic vocal turn, setting the tone before the castle doors opened.

The supporting ensemble was equally important. The 11 Phantoms were more than background decoration. They supplied rich choral support, sharp comic reactions and the Transylvanian glamour that has been part of Rocky Horror since the original production.

Amy Caruana Dingli's choreography gave the production its momentum. The Time Warp was appropriately infectious, but the strongest work came in the ensemble numbers, where the Phantoms moved as a single glittering organism — precise, sensual and slightly menacing.

The choreography also understood character. Columbia's numbers had vaudeville brightness; Frank's movements were deliberate and predatory; Brad and Janet's physical awkwardness gradually loosened into confidence. The result was dance that advanced the story rather than merely filling the stage.

The lighting and set design transformed the MCC's large hall into a space that felt intimate enough for a midnight movie and expansive enough for a rock concert. Thanks to Benny Sauls and Craig Howard we had thunderclaps, saturated pinks and greens, silhouettes, strobes, the reveal of the laboratory, and above all a creepy Transylvanian castle that brought back memories of my worst B&Bs. The design leaned into the show's B-movie roots without making the staging feel dated.

Stefania Grech Vella's costumes stuck closely to the original and added the essential layer of theatrical excess. One new addition was the enormous white fur coat Frank wore for his anthem, which is no doubt inspired by Lucille Ball in Mame.

The live band, led musically by Ryan Paul Abela, kept the score punchy and immediate, giving numbers such as "Sweet Transvestite," "Dammit Janet," "Science Fiction/Double Feature" and "Time Warp" genuine rock-concert force.

This was a confident, high-energy opening that honoured The Rocky Horror Show's fifty-year legacy while giving it a distinctly Maltese Halloween charge. With strong central performances, disciplined choreography, a committed ensemble, and design work that embraced the show's delicious bad taste, the MCC production made a persuasive case for why this strange little musical refuses to die. Don't dream it — b-e-e it.