I was in college the first time I went to a midnight movie. Like most of my generation, it was to see The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

I'd heard about Rocky Horror and had known since junior high school how to do the "Time Warp" dance. I remembered those scenes in Fame where the kids in that movie went to see it. So my basic impression was of a very rowdy, sexed-up crowd talking over the movie's dialogue and throwing things at each other and the screen. Not particularly appealing to this shy (at the time) 17 year old. So when some friends in my college dorm decided they were going to go and they learned I was a Rocky Horror "virgin" (the term used for people who have never seen or experienced Rocky Horror "live" with a cast of fans playing out the scenes in front of the screen), they were determined that I should go.

I've never been one to bow to peer pressure at any age, so I'll admit to having some curiosity about what this whole Rocky Horror/midnight movie thing was about. But not being a late night social person at that time, I still grumbled and protested about being dragged to a movie at that hour. I mean, why did a midnight movie have to be held so late, I wondered?

I still wasn't really convinced we were going to go out so late, so I think I went to bed at 10 p.m. that night. At 11 p.m., I was woken by my friends knocking on my door, ready to go. Still grumbling at the hour, but with a bit of an adrenalin rush from being woken up, I threw on clothes (after a brief puzzling over what does one wear to this thing and deciding one can never go wrong wearing all black) and off we went!

When we arrived at the theater, there were already people in line, mostly college kids, some dressed in regular clothes, others dressed in character for the movie. And seeing this, I began to relax. This I could understand after all - it was like a science fiction convention crowd - people passionate about what they loved, knowing every detail of i, wanting to pretend to live it in the midst of other people who felt the same way and wouldn't ridicule them for their passion.

When my friend and I entered the theater, the 'cast' was already there, down at the frong, checking their props, adjusting their costumes (which I admit I was a bit shocked at the scantiness of one or two of them). I don't actually recall which props my friends brought. I think toast was at that point banned by the theaters, and possibly toilet paper, too. I think my friends gave me a squirt gun, which they had, too, as well as lighters and possibly newspaper. I don't recall if rice was banned at that point, too (foodstuff being harder for the theater to clean up than other 'props'). I wasn't sure what we'd do with it all, but I watched and waited.

Before the movie started, there was the ritual humiliation or 'de-flowering of the virgins'. What this actually entails varies from cast to cast, I think, but ours was mild. They may have had us pledge allegiance to the Lips... or maybe that was something I saw at a later Rocky Horror showing. But whatever it was didn't terribly upset this shy teenager, who was still willing to see what these fans did for fun.

We sat back down in our seats, the lights went out, and then... there were Lips. And it was good.

I'm not going to describe the entire experience of seeing Rocky Horror with a cast. It's something just need to do for yourself. But props were used, the Time Warp was danced, the cast did well enough mimicking the movie cast and I was hooked (admittedly due in large part to Tim Curry's character Frank).

Was it the rollicking sex-crazed party I'd half expected? Yes and no. It was a bunch of young adults being wild and silly on a late Friday night. You didn't have to participate in yelling comments to the screen or the suggestive (at that time) dancing, though it was certainly encouraged. If you're shy about seeing Rocky Horror, go with a group of friends to surround you, for familiarity's sake. But you really can go by yourself and find an old timer there while waiting in line who can guide you through the experience. Rocky Horror fans are kindly that way.

I've since seen Rocky Horror with a cast probably half a dozen times. I also saw a performance of the original play with David Arquette playing Frank. That was different - seeing it with an audience, a theater crowd, that wasn't talking back to the show! By the 1990's, Rocky Horror was considered tame enough to be shown on TV (and now seems a yearly staple on VH1). And I'll admit, the ease of seeing it in my living room made me lazy about going out late at night to see it in the theater with cast and audience. Plus, Rocky Horror fan that I was, I had a copy on video already (with the extended "Superheroes" ending) and owned a couple of versions of the soundtrack. So I thought I had as much Rocky Horror as I needed. Though for the first TV airing, some friends and I celebrated by watching it together in someone's living room, calling out the lines from the sofa, but it wasn't the same. At one point, a friend and I (in our mid-20's or so) went to a midnight showing, but afterwards we both admitted that with everyone in the audience younger than us, we felt old. And sadly, not long after, that theater stopped running midnight showings of Rocky Horror. I thought perhaps my midnight movie days were behind me. And then I went to England.

I attended a science fiction convention just outside of London where one night's late-evening activity was to show Rocky Horror (at midnight, of course). I was excited - I hadn't watched it with an audience in a while and I'd missed the experience.

But when the movie began... we all had an unusual time. Now, I knew from a couple of years of Rocky Horror-attending in different cities and different years that people had different sayings that they would shout out to the screen. References could be regional or fall in and out of the pop culture lexicon - does anyone still make the Spock/spark! joke or talk about Cosmic Cow? And when I first attended Rocky Horror Riff dusting the skeleton was responded to with "Hey, Riff, show us your mother!" By the time the movie came out recently on DVD, the audience participation soundtrack said "Hey, Riff, show us Kate Moss!" But both the UK fans at the convention and I were surprised and greatly amused at the differences between what they shouted out and what I did (and I wished I'd remembered more of the regular sayings than the half that I could recall). We cracked each other up over unexpected (to each other) but common (to ourselves) catchphrases. Even the way we did the Time Warp was slightly different. But it was one of the most fun cultural exchanges I'd ever participated in!

It reminded me of what made a midnight movie (especially Rocky Horror) so different than just attending a regular movie - you weren't just passively watching - you were participating! There's an energy in a crowd of a midnight movie that you just can't get at three in the afternoon or even eight o'clock at night.

But lest you think, gentle reader, that Rocky Horror is the be-all and end-all of midnight movies, I must now disabuse you of that notion.

Midnight movies can still be a staple of independent theaters in particular. Not too far from me is a wonderful decades-old theater that has run Rocky Horror as a Saturday midnight movie forever, or at least, as long as I can remember. But on Friday nights, they have a fantastic, ever-varying fare of midnight movies ranging from cult classics to science fiction to anime and comedy.

Recently, either in reaction to the release of The Passion of the Christ, or to time with Easter (or both), this theater announced one Friday midnight showing of Jesus Christ Superstar - one of my all time favorite musicals. One of my best friends (the same one I saw the play version of Rocky Horror with actually) also saw on the marquee that it was playing and we arranged to go together, though given our 'advancing age', we both agreed we'd need to take a nap that evening first!

Upon arrival, we joined the small line outside the theater that soon grew to a comfortable size. We admired the original Jesus Christ Superstar poster tacked up on one wall. But soon the line moved, we paid our $10 each (what, you thought midnight movies were cheap?) and went inside. My friend grabbed a soda and we took our seats and were soon greeted by a member of the theater staff who told us about other upcoming midnight movies. He also told us about the brand new print of Jesus Christ Superstar straight from the studio that we were about to see. Now since neither my friend nor I had ever seen Jesus Christ Superstar on the 'big screen' (we'd always seen it on TV or video and had also seen the anniversary revival of the play featuring some of the movie cast) anything might look good to us. But I do have to say that print was gorgeous! No graininess, dirt or skipping, the colors were rich and vibrant and both my friend and I were amazed at how much we'd missed visually in never having seen the movie as it was supposed to be seen - in widescreen in a theater. Artistically the cinematography thrilled me as I finally saw the full image of all the exquisite wide shots the director had originally envisioned and captured. But with this MovieGroupie drooling I digress...

A couple of things made this midnight movie experience different than Rocky Horror. First off, people didn't talk back to the film - although some of us couldn't help but sing along to the songs we loved so well. Second, while this too, has become a cult film, aside from Herod and Simon's dances there was little levity in the film or audience. And my friend and I wer not the only ones crying and emotionally spent at the end of it.

Now, to a large degree, that was what that movie would do to us even if we were watching it alone at home. But part of the midnight movie experience is that you're tired and raw and your normal daily emotional defenses aren't up. You feel things deeper and there's a stronger sense of freedom and abandon at that hour. And with this openness comes an ability to share the movie experience on a different level than usual.

As we watched the movie, you could feel the audience's anticipation or dread of various scenes. We swayed together during "What's the Buzz?" We eagerly awaited Jesus' rampage through the marketplace declaring "My temple should be a house of prayer - but you have made it a den of thieves!" We flinched together as Pilate counted the lashes of the whip. And by the end we were exhausted together. But it was a well-spent and gratifying exhaustion. Even the few in the audience who were clearly new to the film, giggling at the 70's hairstyles or costumes or over the top dancing, were accepted by us, the audience, enthused and absorbed, we could not be disturbed or disrupted.

After the film, several people stood outside the theater talking about the film, coming down off the high of the communal emotional journey. My friend and I left a few minutes later to head home and get to sleep. But I was once again reminded that as good a home theater system as you may have, watching a movie in the middle of the day or after dinner, alone or even with a friend or two, can't compare to that vulnerable, powerful connection, sitting surrounded by people in the middle of the night sharing a midnight movie - with or without the popcorn, props or sing-alongs.