The Rocky Horror Picture Show

Susan Sarandon almost constantly in lingerie, a free-spirited transvestite, a castle of freaks, a fat biker, a reversal of puritanism, and good taste getting one slap in the face after another. This trip to the strangest castle in the area simply turned out as contradictory as expected. The songs are mostly fine and catchy, but the plot they are attached to is unbearably bizarre and always completely unrelated to any hint of a storyline. And of course, the best song is "Touch-a, Touch-a, Touch-a, Touch Me". (24/10/2010)

I didn't expect to enjoy the film very much. It's talked about too much as a cult classic, but in its case, it's absolutely deserved. Great performances in a brilliantly twisted script, dominated by Tim Curry, and of course, the songs that easily get under the viewer's skin. This is alternative beauty. (12/10/2015)

What more can I say about the presumed musical legend, than that its humor, as well as the individual songs, were just not my cup of tea. And I respect the British humor as well as I respect a similar sounding music. Nevertheless, since I’ve heard endless stories of how people are dedicated to this movie, I will refrain from a more in-depth review. It will be for the better. (29/03/2016)

A really unusual and quirky musical, in which the transvestite Tim Curry stands out the most. I found the plot crazy and off-the-wall, which is not always a bad thing. What I really have to praise were the songs, which together with the colourful sets and costumes created a great audiovisual atmosphere. The young Susan Sarandon was also a delight. In short, an original film that may not appeal to everyone, but I found it above average. (07/07/2010)

Even in an ordinary screening, without high heels, rattles and rubber gloves, The Rocky Horror Picture Show is endlessly entertaining and, during the existential songs, it is a touching defence of eccentricity and a tribute to the sci-fi and horror B-movies of Val Lewton and William Castle. Thanks to the tastelessness, affectedness and consciousness of its own decadence, every gesture, every prop and every deviant costume screams “camp”. The film dares us to despise it and dance with it. Both surprisingly happen at the same time, inviting us to experience it again and again, just like repeatedly listening to the soundtrack (I’ve had “Touch-a, touch-a, touch-a, touch me” stuck in my head for a few weeks). 90% (01/01/2012)