When I first watched The Rocky Horror Picture Show, I couldn’t help but feel wholly underwhelmed by the experience. It was by no means bad; it was rather enjoyable. Seeing Tim Curry strut his stuff, the Meat Loaf supporting act and the gratingly good song The Time Warp made for entertaining stuff, but it was all rather forgettable. It was the epitome of cult film, and it seems rather apt that it would spawn a second, even poorer received film only a few years later. Shock Treatment, (as my Arrow Blu-Ray’s box smugly suggests) is not a sequel or a prequel, but an equal to The Rocky Horror Picture Show. After viewing it for the first time, I must ask myself whether Shock Treatment is selling itself a tad short, as it’s far superior to the Curry led rock musical cult comedy.
Following Brad and Janet, a somewhat happily married couple split apart in an odd gameshow, Shock Treatment is every bit insane as it is sincere. Brad is confined to a mental institution, spending most of the time rolling around in a state of stupor, shackled away in a large cell. Meanwhile, Janet finds herself shot into bleak stardom, the new face of Denton T.V. Denton is the small town she and her husband live, the “home of happiness”, as the drones of ample and hilarious stereotypes wish for it to be viewed.
From the very twisted mind of Richard O’Brien comes some of the most visually demented and oddly inviting filmmaking on display. I think this sort of film is my niche. Films that were never all that well-received upon initial release, and over time were forgotten about entirely. These twisted time bombs have received little love since their initial release, yet I thoroughly enjoy them for products that were, in some cases, ahead of their time. I’d be happy to induct Shock Treatment in with the likes of Guest House Paradiso and How to Get Ahead in Advertising, which, for those that know me, is the highest praise I could possibly offer. No, it’s not just because Rik Mayall makes a supporting appearance as “Rest Home” Ricky, but because the visual carpet bombing on display from director Jim Sharman is astounding.
The visuals are sublime. Glossy colours parade across the screen in a film that looks to mock reality television and star theory in the most ham-fisted manner possible. Slimy, greasy caricatures slide and snivel their way across the intense set designs. Shock Treatment marks a meritable form to Sharman’s direction. He has some truly engaging scenes and he cracks out more than a handful of interesting musical numbers, lingering camera shots to encapsulate that lucid nightmare feeling and there are a handful of moments that are shockingly highbrow for a film about a tall, thin doctor called Cosmo McKinley locking mental patients away against their will.
Catchier tunes, experimental and in-your-face visuals to coincide with a funky cast of memorable characters and a plot that couldn’t be any zanier even if it tried, Shock Treatment is a spiritual successor to that of The Rocky Horror Picture Show, and, in my humble opinion, is far superior to the film that inspired it. Hilariously memorable characters from Bert Schnick (Barry Humphries) to Farley Flavours (Cliff DeYoung), Shock Treatment takes the necessary weirdness it exudes from its appearance and bashes it into submission with a simplistic yet frankly brilliant story full of superb riffs, great performances and generally good visuals.
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