Luke Evans stepped onto Broadway this week as Frank-N-Furter, bringing his West End swagger and pop-star poise to a revival of Richard O’Brien’s 1973 cult musical that arrives amid both high expectations and quiet doubts about its relevance today.
The production, directed by Sam Pinkleton of the recent hit Oh, Mary!, opened at Studio 54 with a cast stacked with awards-season names: Stephanie Hsu as Janet, Rachel Dratch as the Narrator, Juliette Lewis as Magenta, and Michaela Jaé Rodriguez as Columbia. For many in the audience, the draw was less the show’s creaky sci-fi plot and more the chance to see queer camp treated with Broadway seriousness—a proposition Pinkleton embraced after O’Brien himself urged him to “just capture it seriously.”
Deadline’s review called it a “first-rate presentation” of a property that, alongside John Waters’ early operate, helped define a strain of ’70s counter-culture. The outlet praised Evans’ singing—“yes, he most certainly can sing”—and highlighted how the cast, especially Dratch, managed audience participation without descending into chaos, noting that no rice, toast, or toilet paper flew despite the pre-show warning: “Don’t be an asshole.”
The Guardian, however, found the energy lacking. Although acknowledging the strong opening—Lewis’ wobbly rendition of “Science Fiction Double Feature,” the playful stagehands poking from curtains, the tiny mansion models creeping toward Brad and Janet—the critic wrote that the show soon “sags,” with “aimless shuffling” replacing the crispness Pinkleton brought to Oh, Mary!. The staging, they argued, tilts into “blurry abstraction,” making one miss the assuredness of the 1975 film, whose performances by Tim Curry and Susan Sarandon remain the definitive version for many.
Out Magazine framed the revival as a political act, quoting Pinkleton: “There’s nothing more joyous than taking glitter, corsets, jockstraps, and aliens seriously. That feels political.” The outlet traced the director’s journey back to 2018, noting how the project survived pandemic shutdowns and arrived only after Oh, Mary! became a Broadway phenomenon. It emphasized the queer lineage of the show, calling it a long-standing touchstone in the queer musical canon for its “unabashed confidence.”
Across the reviews, a tension emerges: Is this revival a vital reclamation of a queer artifact, or a well-intentioned but uneven attempt to translate midnight-movie chaos into regulated theater? The Deadline piece sees balance; The Guardian sees a missed opportunity; Out sees necessity. What they agree on is the cast’s commitment—Evans, Hsu, Dratch, Lewis, Rodriguez, and Durand all named as serious actors taking on roles once played by legends.
The show’s history adds weight. Born on stage in 1973, two years before the film, it began as a homage to 1950s and ’60s drive-in sci-fi schlock. Over five decades, it has become a ritual for audiences who shout callbacks, throw props, and claim ownership of its absurdity. This Broadway version asks them to restrain that impulse—a shift that may disappoint purists but reflects the realities of commercial theater in 2026.
Whether the revival sustains its run will depend on whether it can capture the anarchic spirit of its origins without sacrificing polish. For now, it stands as a curious artifact: a once-underground celebration of otherness, now polished enough for Broadway’s bright lights, still arguing—through sequins and satire—that taking the ridiculous seriously can be its own kind of defiance.
The cast delivers strong performances despite uneven direction
Luke Evans anchors the show as Frank-N-Furter, bringing both vocal strength and theatrical flair to a role made iconic by Tim Curry. Stephanie Hsu captures Janet’s evolution from innocence to agency, while Rachel Dratch sharpens the Narrator’s role with quick wit and steady control over audience interaction. Juliette Lewis and Michaela Jaé Rodriguez add depth to Magenta and Columbia, respectively, and Andrew Durand plays Brad with a believable shift from rigidity to liberation.
Why the staging divides critics
The Guardian critic found the pacing loose, describing scenes that feel “listless” and a visual style that veers into “blurry abstraction,” lacking the tight control seen in Pinkleton’s Oh, Mary!. In contrast, Deadline highlighted how the production manages audience participation effectively, calling it a “very satisfying medium” where call-and-response lines land without disruption. The difference reflects a split between those who prioritize theatrical precision and those who value the show’s spontaneous, communal spirit.
What the revival means for queer theater
Out Magazine emphasized that taking the show’s elements—glitter, corsets, alien mythology—seriously is, in Pinkleton’s words, a political act. The revival positions Rocky Horror not as a relic but as a living queer text, one that predates modern LGBTQ+ terminology yet embodies its spirit. Its return to Broadway after over two decades signals continued appetite for camp, irony, and defiance wrapped in musical theater.
Is this the first Broadway revival of Rocky Horror in over 20 years?
Yes. According to Out Magazine, this marks the first time the show has returned to the Great White Way in over two decades, with Pinkleton beginning work on the concept in 2018 before pandemic delays.
How does the audience participation work in this version?
Audiences are encouraged to participate through call-and-response lines, but throwing objects like rice or toast is discouraged with a pre-show warning: “Don’t be an asshole.” Deadline noted that at the reviewed performance, no objects were thrown, and cast members handled interruptions with ease.
Why do some critics feel the show lacks energy?
The Guardian argues that after a strong opening, the pacing falters, with “aimless shuffling” on stage and a loss of the crispness Pinkleton showed in Oh, Mary!, making the film’s definitive performances by Curry and Sarandon harder to forget.
Worth a look
