‘My Whole Life Has Been the Audition’: Jake Shears Talks ‘Rocky Horror,’ Tim Curry & His ‘One Request’ About Callbacks

Although fans have been cosplaying as Dr. Frank-N-Furter for half a century thanks to The Rocky Horror Picture Show’s infamous midnight screenings, stepping into the mad scientist’s spangled heels remains a tall order for one reason: Tim Curry. Both on stage and on screen (The Rocky Horror Show debuted on London’s West End in 1973; the Jim Sharman-directed film released in 1975), Curry used his mellifluous voice, wildcat mannerisms and wicked wit to craft one of the most unforgettable characters of all time.

Curry’s Frank was easy to swallow but tough to follow — many who have laced up the corset since then have glimmered, but always in Curry’s shadow. When Jake Shears became the third actor to portray Frank-N-Furter in the current Broadway revival of The Rocky Horror Show at Studio 54, his debut took on a sad, sweet resonance, happening just weeks after Curry’s death at age 80. (Curry passed away on Aug. 25; Shears debuted on Sept. 11, taking over from Paul Soileau, who followed Luke Evans’ Tony-nominated turn.)

“If you’d told me when I was 15 that I’d be in the theater rehearsing for it on the day [Curry’s death] happened — to be able to share that moment with everyone else and be in the theater even now — it feels like a living memorial in a way,” Shears tells Billboard.

It may be a living memorial, but don’t get it twisted: this version of the sci-fi/horror/musical is no hushed, reverent recreation. Directed by Tony winner Sam Pinkleton (Oh, Mary!, Ta-Da!), this production leans into DIY set design, hodgepodge casting and playful camp to reanimate a show that remains as transgressive and titillating as ever. Eight times a week at Studio 54, the Scissor Sisters rocker-turned-actor brings his sly, bratty take on the Sweet Transvestite from Transsexual Transylvania to life.

As he packed his go-to bag ahead of a Tuesday night performance, Shears spoke to Billboard about his lifelong obsession with Rocky Horror, what he thinks about the audience callbacks and how Curry’s death affected his take on the role.  

What’s your backstory with Rocky Horror? Is this something that’s been with you throughout your whole life?

I’m a true Rocky Horror nerd. I don’t think there would be Scissor Sisters without Rocky Horror. I don’t know if I would be a performer without Rocky Horror. I discovered it for myself when I was 12, just about to turn 13. For its 15th anniversary in 1990, they were putting it out on VHS. In celebration of that — I was an avid MTV and VH1 watcher at that age — I started seeing imagery from it and became really, really curious.

Right — it was a late arrival to VHS and a big thing when it finally came out.

My mom wouldn’t let me watch it, and it became a real point of contention between us. So my parents went out of town, and my older sister got me the soundtrack of the original Roxy cast from Los Angeles. That was the first time I heard the songs. Then when my parents were out of town, my sister got me the VHS tape, so I got to see the film for the first time and it just blew my mind. I immediately started figuring out ways to go to the Saturday night screenings, and I became obsessed with it. I’ve always been obsessed with it. It’s always been a part of my fantasies. I think it’s the greatest movie ever made. I think it’s the greatest musical ever made. There’s something about the script, the story — it is so magical.

It really is unlike anything else.

This may be a digression, but Rocky Horror feels to me like a theme park ride. There’s so much going on in it, and there’s this underlying story happening underneath that you only get glimmers of. There’s something about the show that really spurs your imagination on. Your brain fills in so many blanks in Rocky Horror. I think that’s one of the reasons it’s touched so many people. I love that it’s kind of amoral.

The combination of all those things really affected me as a 13-year-old. It was also my first sort of dawning — it was my first “it gets better.” In my book [Boys Keep Swinging] I wrote about it like a message in a bottle, saying, “Hey, we’re out here.” It was like a message from my future. To me, it’s a sacred text. It’s my Rosetta Stone. Getting to do it [on Broadway] is a really deep, deep thing for me. I still kind of can’t believe it, and I don’t know if I’ll ever do anything that will make me as happy as what I’m doing now.

That’s beautiful: 12, 13 is such a formative age. To grow up with that, have it inform your outlook and then step into the heels. How do you top that?

There isn’t a way to top it. The other fun thing is that I love theater so much, and I love the repetition of it — the absolute grind of it. When you’re doing a five-show weekend, the whole thing turns into one big funhouse mirror. It gets weird. It really does put you in another kind of reality, and getting to do that in this world, with this show, feels like getting to step off the ride at Pirates of the Caribbean and go snoop around the animatronics.

That’s a great way of describing it. When they reached out to you for the role, how did that work? Did you have to do an audition?

I think my whole life has been the audition. But no — I got a call from a producer friend I’ve worked with, who said, “The Rocky Horror folks are looking for you. Do you want me to give them your number?” And I said, “Yes, yes, please.”

I was super secretive and kept it really close because it was such an exciting prospect. I had to protect myself — I could potentially be absolutely devastated if it didn’t go the right way. I’d been sitting around in London so jealous that it was happening in New York. Everyone got an earful around my kitchen table about how badly I wanted it. I was having a lot of FOMO that it even existed. A lot of my close friends were weirded out by the whole thing, because it felt like something I’d put out into the universe and then the universe hit me up.

As you were preparing for the role — between the announcement and your official stage debut — Tim Curry died. Did that change your preparation? Did it change your relationship to the role?

It did a little bit, yeah. It made me not be in denial that Tim Curry has always been in my DNA. It’s always been in my bones. So it’s made me not be super scared of that. I’ve definitely got my own spin on it. But I’m also not afraid to deliver his versions of the songs. There’s no escaping that.

They’re so iconic. But your performance does have its own flavor.

[Joking] The flavor is called cocaine.

[Laughs.] How else do you do eight shows a week?

No, no — I just mean I’ve had a lot of fun thinking about the fact that we’re in Studio 54. I’m paying my respects to the ghosts at 54. We’ve got the moon in there. The spoon’s not there, but that’s been a part of the development of my Frank — Frank is really partying during this night. It’s been really fun to dig in and shape that. Please don’t write that I’m a cocaine addict.

Let the record state that you are simply making a reference to Studio 54’s snowy past, not talking about your own habits. You’re doing so many performances in such a short time. There’s that element of exhaustion, but you are going full force at the same time.

Yes. That’s the fun thing — you get to “Wild and Untamed Thing” at the end, and on a Sunday night I’m exhausted. But I love going into that show with barely anything, where you’re scraping the barrel a little bit and you just have to start and ask, “Where is this going to come from?” That’s always real, and it’s fun to dig around and figure out where that comes from. It’s feral. I love that I get to be absolutely feral on stage and a little bit out of control. There are moments in the show where I feel a little bit out of control.

I can’t help contrasting this with when you played Charlie in Kinky Boots on Broadway, which is such a buttoned-up role.

Oh my God, it’s the exact opposite. But it was amazing I had the opportunity to do that. Before that I did Moisés Kaufman’s Bent in L.A., and I didn’t know how to walk across a stage — I really didn’t know what I was doing. It’s been so delightful in my life to learn this skill. I love being in musicals, I love doing theater. And without doing Charlie in Kinky Boots — which is very buttoned-up, very opposite of my own personality — and without doing the Emcee [in Cabaret on West End], I don’t know if I was ready to do Frank until now.

Without Cabaret, this might have been biting off too much. I saw Tom Hewitt do this; I saw the 2000 version [of The Rocky Horror Show] on Broadway. I moved to New York in ’99. I’ve always thought about that production, always thought about Frank-N-Furter in it throughout my life and thought, “Oh, I wonder if I could do that.” My answer was always, “I don’t think I’ve got the skill. I don’t think I’m capable.” But in the last couple of years I’ve finally come to it. I think 48 is a great year for Frank, too. I don’t know if you can really have a 32-year-old Frank-N-Furter.

Did you talk to Luke Evans or Paul Soileau before taking on the role?

Oh yeah. Luke let me hang out in the dressing room and talk through stuff, and Paul too — both of them were extremely generous. We had a dialogue about the whole thing and still do.

After Tim died you three took the stage together and sang “I’m Going Home,” which was so beautiful. How did that come about?

It was the day Tim died — it was that night. Luke had just said his goodbye; they’d recorded the soundtrack, and Luke had said goodbye to Rocky Horror with tears and everything. Then, next thing you know — Luke hadn’t left town yet, so he was able to step back in. Paul was playing Frank that night, and I was sitting there rehearsing. It was the perfect little moment for us to be able to do that. It was very, very sweet. I’ll never forget it.

How did you feel when you finally debuted in the role?

What was really funny was that when I went into the show — my first Friday night — I had zero nerves. I had a great time, so much fun and I thought, “That’s so crazy. Where is this coming from?” I was very chill. And then the matinee the next day, I was absolutely scared out of my mind. I don’t know why. The nerves came. It’s funny how that happens — there’s no rhyme or reason.

I can see it, because Frank-N-Furter is such a creature of the night, literally. It makes sense for an evening, but it’s a very strange show for the afternoon.

Yes. Star Quezon, who’s amazing in the show with me and plays one of the Phantoms, turned to me after a weekend matinee and said, “It feels like it’s three in the morning.” It was so true. The matinees definitely have a very surreal quality to them.

You mentioned the nerves hitting the second time you performed. Do you have preshow rituals, anything you do to get yourself in the head space?

Once my wig is on and I get the boots on — the heels on — I pace around and make really f–king bizarre faces in the mirror and talk to myself for a while.

I would love to see that.

I make sure the dressing room door is shut.

I know the Narrator handles a lot of the audience callbacks, but has it been an additional curveball that the audience is periodically talking at you, shouting things?

It’s my favorite thing about this show. I love it so much. It’s only a curveball if the audience doesn’t know what they’re doing — that’s when it’s a curveball. I love the callbacks, and I really encourage them. I just ask that it’s not for amateurs. If you’re going to play with me on stage, do it confidently, clearly and know what you’re doing. That’s my one request. I’m down to clown and when it’s good, it’s really good. So I encourage it, but I also encourage those who want to participate at a higher level to really know what they’re doing.

Rocky Horror is a ritual in a lot of ways, and if you don’t know the beats, it’s not going to hit. And you’re at a Broadway show.

Exactly. And technically, callbacks don’t really work when the songs are on because nobody can hear them. So it’s best to stick with the moments when dialogue is going. But I personally love it. My favorite thing is getting surprised when somebody does something really funny that I didn’t expect. I’ve broken a few times on stage.

What has it been like working with Sam Pinkleton on this? I interviewed Sam before Rocky Horror opened, and he’s such a brilliant creative — a perfect mind for something like this.

Sam is so sweet and smart and fun to hang out with and work with. I think he’s amazing, and I think so many other people would follow him anywhere. He’s got a perspective and a humor that is so singular. I adore him and love being around him. It’s a blast. Like I said, me and so many others would do whatever.

He’s doing Annie next — you could literally switch from one Tim Curry role to another.

Oh God. I’m very excited about that show. I’m so curious to see what he’ll do.

Do you have a favorite song to sing in this performance? One that means the most to you?

“I’m Going Home” makes me emotional singing it pretty much every time. For me, it’s this crazy intersection of singing this queer hymn — it feels very spiritual to me — and, just after Tim’s passing, feeling so lucky to get to do what I’m doing. Being there, knowing how important it is for so many people in the theater and looking down at the people who got front-row tickets, at their faces — it’s a really special moment. I love singing it.

It really is gay church.

It feels that way. I love every song in the show, and I’ll never get sick of the music, but I especially love that one. The show is so chaotic in so many ways, so it’s really nice to get to sit down and sing something very still. There aren’t too many moments like that in the show, so it reverberates.

Do you think your feelings toward Rocky Horror have changed now that you’ve stepped into the world of it, as opposed to experiencing it as a fan?

Only in the way that it’s made my appreciation for it go even deeper than it ever would have. My imagination with the show has gotten deeper — my fantasies about the show, these characters, what they’re doing, where they’ve been, what the hell is going on. There’s a whole story going on that you just step into and witness, and you have to fill in those blanks. That’s the magic of it.