The last time I was part of “The Rocky Horror Show,” I wore a black corset. Two decades later at Oasis and Ray of Light Theatre’s latest immersive revival of Richard O’Brien’s beloved 1973 stage musical at Oasis nightclub, I wore a white bridal veil. 

Having traded my libertine youth for a happy married life years ago, the symbolism felt fitting.

Back in college, I played the lead of provocative mad scientist Dr. Frank-N-Furter, originated by Tim Curry. On Saturday, Oct. 11, during opening weekend of the South of Market venue’s final full production before closing at the end of the year, I was pulled on stage for the part of Betty Monroe (If the character doesn’t ring a bell, it’s because she’s only in a few seconds of the show and 1975 film.) Reading my vows alongside Tim Budding, the audience member enlisted to play the groom, Ralph Hapschatt, reminded me once you’re a part of the “Rocky” family, that connection remains. 

For anyone who knows the show about the Transexual Transylvanians who ensnare, seduce and morally liberate the square Brad and Janet (played here by Julio Chavez and Lisa Frankenstein), family might not be the word that comes to mind. But that’s what this production, and the entire global “Rocky” fandom can feel like. 

While the original London stage show was an unexpected hit, the film adaptation — starring Curry, O’Brien, Little Nell Campbell, Patricia Quinn and Meatloaf reprising their roles, alongside Barry Bostwick and Susan Sarandon as Brad and Janet — was a mainstream flop. 

By 1976, however, it found a following at Waverly Theater in New York City, where midnight screenings featured “shadow casts” recreating scenes as audiences shouted back in response to the dialogue. Long before Oasis owner — and veteran Dr. Frank-N-Furter — D’Arcy Drollinger had the idea of reimagining “Rocky” for the club, audience participation was already a key part of any viewing. 

As the film celebrates its 50th anniversary this year, its legacy is being reevaluated. When I performed in my college production, the musical wasn’t always taken seriously. It was seen as camp (it is), vulgar (ditto) and unserious (wrong!). But underneath the sexual anarchy, it’s always been about outsiders searching for belonging, and generations have found that sense of community at “Rocky” screenings and revivals around the world.

“I think people can be dismissive of it because they don’t know where it came from and they don’t know the history,” director Jason Hoover told me. “It’s like the history of Oasis; ‘Rocky’ offered a safe haven for people to be who they want to be.”

Quinn, who famously played Magenta onstage and in the film, shared the same sentiment with me in an interview last year. 

“Years ago at a convention, a girl came up to me with tears in her eyes. She had an arm that was disabled, and she said, ‘This film has changed my life,’” Quinn recalled. “And that’s the first time it ever meant anything to me. It obviously meant that she was accepted in the crowd.”

After the “Rocky” wedding scene on Saturday, the audience was ushered to the main stage. Among a crowd where many were dressed as characters from the show, it was hard to differentiate actors from audience members. Sitting on a couch near the stage, I asked actor Trixxie Carr if she was the “real” Magenta when she draped herself across me before realizing that yes, she was indeed playing the role.  

Although it’s been years since I’ve been to a live production, the callbacks to the dialogue quickly returned to me. I’m generally not an audience participation person, but “Rocky” is the exception. I danced the “Time Warp” and got a (chaste) lapdance in the bathroom from a gogo girl. The only time I drew the line was eating a hot dog handed to me from a gloryhole, because I’m a vegetarian. 

By the time we reached the finale, I was singing along to the show’s central anthem, “Don’t Dream It, Be It.” It was emotional revisiting those lyrics. I’ve gotten to live so many of the dreams I had as that college kid in a corset, including finding a place like Oasis where I could be part of a weird, wonderful community. 

But with the club closing on New Year’s Eve, that dream is coming to an end. 

Clips of past Oasis and Ray of Light “Rocky” productions played as Drollinger sang the ballad “I’m Going Home.” Cheetah Biscotti as Columbia and Ryan Patrick Welsh as the Criminologist brought me to the piano beside Drollinger where I joined in on the chorus. I was grateful this place — and this show — had been a home for so many. 

At the end, Drollinger and the cast surrounded me on the couch. 

“It’s breaking my heart every night,” he whispered to me about the impact the show is having on him during this run through Nov. 1.

My heart was breaking too, but in a beautiful way. Some people never get to find their “Rocky” or Oasis, but I found both.