By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on August 29, 2026)

Cause I’ve seen, oh, blue skies
Through the tears in my eyes
And I realise
I’m going home (I’m going home)

– “I’m Going Home”, from The Rocky Horror Picture Show (written by Richard O’Brien)

I am sad to report that Dr. Frank-N-Furter has left the castle:

Tim Curry, the offbeat British actor who specialized in playing eccentrics like the seductive, cross-dressing scientist Dr. Frank-N-Furter in The Rocky Horror Picture Show and such fiendish villains as Pennywise the Clown from Stephen King’s It, died Wednesday. He was 80.

Curry died at his Toluca Lake home in Los Angeles, his longtime manager and friend Marcia Hurwitz announced. He had suffered a major stroke in 2012.

Curry joined Rocky Horror in the original stage production at a tiny upstairs venue at London’s Royal Court Theatre, stuck with the sexual farce as it moved to larger London venues and Broadway and then starred with a young Susan Sarandon and Barry Bostwick in the 1975 Fox movie adaptation. 

At the movies, audience members would dress up as their favorite characters, bring props and throw items around the theater as they sang along to favorites like “Time Warp,” “Touch-a-Touch-a-Touch-a-Touch Me” and, performed by Curry, the sensationally bawdy “Sweet Transvestite.” “It’s a chance for people to try on a few roles for size, maybe help them figure out their own sexuality,” Curry said of the film in a 2005 interview with NPR. “I’ve certainly had some very interesting and moving mail from people who’ve said, ‘Thanks for helping me figure out who I was,’ and that’s very nice.”

Indeed, there was something infectiously liberating about soaking in the unselfconscious abandonment Curry brought to his most memorable roles; performances that flirted with outré at times yet never failed to convey the pure joy of acting (assuring us with a wink that this was all just playing, after all). I thought this gentleman summed it up nicely:

Tim Curry was Dolly for us fucking weirdos. He helped make us who we are. He went big, he went bold, and he left behind him a career that cannot be duplicated.One of the things I've learned in Hollywood is the people who play villains are always the best PEOPLE. And he played the best villains.

— C. Robert Cargill (@crobertcargill.bsky.social) 2026-08-26T18:26:08.518Z

So in honor of a gifted performer who was literally the poster boy for the genre, I’ve rummaged through my personal collection and culled my 25 favorite “midnight movies” – presented in alphabetical order:

Death Race 2000 – The original tagline: “In the year 2000 hit and run driving is no longer a crime. It’s the NATIONAL SPORT!” At cursory glance, Paul Bartel’s 1975 cult gem about a “futuristic” gladiatorial cross-country auto race in which drivers score points for running down pedestrians is an over-the-top black comedy. It could also be viewed as a riff on Rollerball, broad political satire, or wry commentary on that great American tradition of watching televised blood sport for entertainment. One thing I’ll say – it’s never boring! David Carradine is a riot as defending race champ, “Frankenstein”. Also featured in the cast: Mary Woronov (Eating Raoul) and a pre-Rocky Sylvester Stallone.

Detour – Many consider Edgar G. Ulmer’s artfully pulpy “Poverty Row” programmer (shot in just 6 days) as one of the greatest no-budget “B” crime dramas ever made. That said, the film had to putter along for decades following its original 1945 release (when it was virtually ignored) until it was able to find appreciative audiences and critical accolades. Clocking in just under 70 minutes, the story follows a down-on-his-luck musician (Tom Neal) with whom fate, and circumstance have saddled with (first) a dead body, and then (worst) a hitchhiker from Hell (Ann Savage, in a demented performance). In short, this hapless sap is not having a good night. Truly one of the darkest noirs of them all.

Eating Raoul – The late great Paul Bartel directed and co-wrote this twisted and hilarious social satire. Bartel and his frequent screen partner Mary Waronov play Paul and Mary Bland, a prudish, buttoned-down couple who are horrified to discover that their apartment complex is home to an enclave of “swingers”. Paul is even more shocked when he comes home from his wine store job one day and discovers Mary struggling to escape the clutches of a swinger’s party guest who has mistakenly strayed into the Bland’s apartment.

Paul beans him with a frying pan, inadvertently killing Mary’s overeager groper. When the couple discovers a sizable wad of money on the body, a light bulb goes off-and the Blands come up with a unique plan for financing the restaurant that they have always dreamed of opening (and helping rid the world of those icky swingers!). Things get complicated, however when a burglar (Robert Beltran) ingratiates himself into their scheme. Yes, it’s sick…but in a good way.

Eraserhead – If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my 70 years on the planet, it’s that when it comes to the films of David Lynch, there is no middle ground. You either love ‘em, or you hate ‘em. You buy a ticket to a Lynch film, my friend, you’d best be willing to take the ride-and he will take you for a ride. And do you want to know the really weird thing about his films? They get funnier with each viewing (seriously). I think the secret to his enigmatic approach is that Lynch is having the time of his life being impenetrably enigmatic-he’s sitting back and chuckling at all the futile attempts to dissect and make “sense” of his narratives.

For example, have you noticed how I’ve managed to dodge and weave and avoid giving you any kind of plot summary? I suspect that David Lynch (RIP) would find that fucking hysterical. At any rate, this is one of the seminal midnight movies; morphing from box office disaster (the 1977 New York opening drew 25 people) to word-of-mouth cult phenomenon (the film had 99 week theater runs at New York’s Waverly and L.A.’s Nuart). Be advised: This is not a film for the squeamish.

Fantastic Planet – Director Rene Laloux’s imaginative 1973 animated fantasy (originally  La planete sauvage) is about a race of mini-humans called  Oms, who live on a distant planet and have been enslaved (or viewed and treated as dangerous pests) for generations by big, brainy, blue aliens called the Draags. We follow the saga of Terr, an Om who has been adopted as a house pet by a Draag youngster. Equal parts Spartacus, Planet of the Apes, and that night in the dorm you took too many mushrooms, it’s at once unnerving and mind-blowing.

Forbidden Zone – Picture if you will: an artistic marriage between John Waters, Max Fleischer, Busby Berkeley and Peter Greenaway. Now, imagine the wedding night (I’ll give you a sec). As for the “plot”, well, it’s about this indescribably twisty family who discovers a portal to a pan-dimensional…oh, never mind. Suffice it to say, any film that features Herve Villechaize as the King of the Sixth Dimension, Susan Tyrrell as his Queen and soundtrack composer Danny Elfman channeling Cab Calloway (via Satan), is a dream for some; a nightmare for others. Directed by Danny’s brother Richard.

Grey Gardens – “The Aristocrats!” There’s no murder or mayhem in this real-life Gothic character study by renowned documentary filmmakers Albert and David Maysles (Salesman, Gimme Shelter), but you’ll still find it disquieting. Edith Bouvier Beale (in her early 80s at the time) and her middle aged daughter Edie were living under decidedly less than hygienic conditions in an old dark manor in East Hampton, L.I. with a menagerie of cats and raccoons when the brothers profiled them. The fact that the women were related to Jackie O (Edith the elder was her aunt) makes this scenario even more twisty. The cult appeal of the Edies was not lost on Broadway; a musical adaptation ran 2 years.

The Harder They Come – While the Jamaican film industry didn’t experience an identifiable “new wave” until the early 80s, Perry Henzel’s 1973 rebel cinema classic laid the foundation for the likes of films like Dickie Jobson’s Countryman and Theodoros Bafaloukos’ Rockers. From its opening scene, when wide-eyed country boy Ivan (reggae’s original superstar, Jimmy Cliff) hops off a Jolly Bus in the heart of Kingston to the strains of Cliff’s “You Can Get It If You Really Want”, to a blaze of glory finale, it maintains an ever-forward momentum, pulsating all the while to the heartbeat riddim of an iconic soundtrack. Initially tanking in the U.S. due to poor marketing (not to mention the use of subtitles-which made it a hard-sell at the time for an English language film), it eventually caught fire (in a manner of speaking) with college and art house audiences throughout the latter half of the 70s.

Harold and Maude – Harold loves Maude. And Maude loves Harold. It’s a match made in heaven-if only “society” would agree. Because Harold (Bud Cort) is a teenager, and Maude (Ruth Gordon) is about to turn 80. Falling in love with a woman old enough to be his great-grandmother is the least of Harold’s quirks. He’s a chronically depressed trustafarian who amuses himself by staging fake suicides to freak out his patrician mother (wonderfully droll Vivian Pickles). He also “enjoys” attending funerals-which is where they Meet Cute.

The effervescent Maude is Harold’s opposite; while he wallows in morbid speculation how any day could be your last, she seizes each day as if it actually were. Obviously, she has something to teach him. Despite dark undertones, this is one “midnight movie” that somehow manages to be life-affirming. The late Hal Ashby directed, and Colin Higgins wrote the screenplay. The memorable soundtrack is written and performed by Cat Stevens.

Heavy Traffic – Within the realm of animated films, Ralph Bakshi’s name may not be as universally recognizable (or revered) as Walt Disney or Studio Ghibli, but I would consider him no less of an important figure in the history of the genre. During his heyday (1972-1983) the director pumped out 8 full-length features (including Fritz the Cat, The Lord of the Rings, Wizards and American Pop) using his signature blend of live-action, rotoscoping, and cel animation.

I view this semi-autobiographical 1973 entry (his 2nd feature) as Bakshi’s Mean Streets. A young man obsessed with drawing cartoon caricatures lives in a cramped Brownsville apartment with his constantly bickering parents (a Jewish mother and an Italian father).

Yearning to strike out on his own to sow his wild oats, he moves out and ingratiates himself with an array of dubious characters who lurk in some of NYC’s seedier neighborhoods. The ensuing eye-popping (and very adult) misadventures may (or may not) be a figment of the budding artist’s wild imagination. Surreal, outrageous, cringing, hilarious and guaranteed to contain something to offend everybody in a contemporary audience (you have been warned).

The Honeymoon Killers – Several decades before Natural Born Killers was even a gleam in Oliver Stone’s eye, writer-director Leonard Kastle made this highly effective low-budget exploitation film (based on a true story) about a pair of murderous lovebirds. Martha (Shirley Stoler) and Ray (Tony Lo Bianco) meet via a “lonely hearts” correspondence club and find that they have a lot more in common than the usual love of candlelit dinners and walks on the beach.

Namely, they’re both full-blown sociopaths, who cook up a scheme to lure lonely women into their orbit so they can kill them and take their assets. Stoler and Lo Bianco have a palpable chemistry as the twisted couple. The stark B & W photography and verite approach enhances the unsettling vibe. Martin Scorsese was the original director, but was quickly fired (!). This was Kastle’s only film.

J-Men Forever – Woody Allen may have done it first (What’s Up, Tiger Lily?), but Firesign Theater veterans Phil Proctor and Peter Bergman did it best with J-Men Forever. I am referring to the concept of re-appropriating footage from corny, no-budget B-films and re-dubbing the soundtrack with comic dialogue. I’ve been a devotee of this film since it aired on the USA Network’s after hours cult show Night Flight back in the 80s (alright, raise your bong if you remember that one).

The creators had a sizable archive from the old Republic serials to cull from, so they were not restricted by the narrative structure of one specific film. As a result, Proctor and Bergman’s wonderfully silly concoction about saving Earth from a nefarious alien mastermind called “The Lightning Bug” benefits from quick-cut editing, synced with their trademark barrage of one-liners, puns and double entendre, all set to a rock ‘n’ roll soundtrack. “Schtay high!”

King of Hearts – The utter madness of war has rarely been conveyed in such a succinct (or oddly endearing) manner as in Philippe de Broca’s absurdist adult fable. Alan Bates stars as a WW1 Scottish army private sent ahead of his advancing company to a rural French village, where he is to locate and disarm a bomb that has been set by retreating Germans.

His mission is interrupted when he is suddenly set upon by a coterie of loopy and highly theatrical residents who (literally) sweep him off his feet and jovially inform him he is now their “king”. These happy-go-lucky folks are, in fact, inmates of the local asylum, who have occupied the town since the residents fled. The battle-weary private decides to humor them, in the meantime brainstorming how he can coax them out of harm’s way before the war inevitably intrudes once again.

The 1966 film was not well-received in its first run in France; tanking with critics and audiences. It wasn’t until a 1971 U.S. re-release that it began to catch on with the midnight crowd; largely thanks to a five-year run at the Central Square Cinema in Cambridge, Massachusetts.

Liquid Sky – Downtown 81 meets Invasion of the Body Snatchers in this deeply weird 1982 sci-fi film. A diminutive, parasitic alien with a particular delectation for NYC club kids, models and performance artists lands on an East Village rooftop and starts mainlining off the limbic systems of junkies and sex addicts…right at the moment they reach the maximum peak of pleasure center stimulation (the alien is a dopamine junkie?). Just don’t think about the science too hard.

The main attraction here is the inventive photography and the fascinatingly bizarre performance (or non-performance) by (co-screen writer) Anne Carlisle, who tackles two roles-a female fashion model who becomes the alien’s primary host, and a male model. Writer-director Slava Zsukerman also co-wrote the electronic music score.

The Loved One – In 1965, this black comedy/social satire was billed as “The motion picture with something to offend everyone.” By today’s standards, it’s relatively tame (but still pretty sick). Robert Morse plays a befuddled Englishman struggling to process the madness of southern California, where he has come for an extended visit at the invitation of his uncle (Sir John Gielgud) who works for a Hollywood studio.

Along the way, he falls in love with a beautiful but mentally unstable mortuary cosmetician (Anjanette Comer), gets a job at a pet cemetery, and basically reacts to all the various whack-jobs he encounters. The wildly eclectic cast includes Jonathan Winters (in three roles), Robert Morley, Roddy McDowell, Milton Berle, James Coburn, Liberace, Paul Williams and Rod Steiger (as Mr. Joyboy!). Tony Richardson directed; the screenplay was adapted by Terry Southern and Christopher Isherwood from Evelyn Waugh’s novel.

Meet the Feebles – Before he was focused on bringing CGI-enhanced orcs and hobbits to life, director Peter Jackson was working with considerably lower production budgets (as in: next to nothing), and letting has overactive imagination make up the difference in off-beat indie projects like this one from 1990. It’s a sordid backstage tale about a neurotic diva who heads the cast of a popular TV variety show.

So what makes it a midnight movie? Well, there’s lots of graphic sex, gory violence, and drug use. OK (you may rebut) but that’s the kind of thing one can see on premium cable any day of the week. Yes-but how often do you see puppets engaging in those activities? Adorable, fuzzy-wuzzy anthropomorphic animal puppets, committing all 7 deadly sins (and a few extra ones you may have never thought of before). You have to see it, to believe it (although you may have to wait a bit before you can see it clearly, as all existing home video versions are muddy Telecine transfers, and despite clamor from fans of the film, Jackson has been withholding a proper re-release until he can complete a 4K restoration).

Pink Flamingos – “Oh Babs! I’m starving to death. Hasn’t that egg man come yet?” If Baltimore filmmaker/true crime buff/self-styled czar of “bad taste” John Waters had completely ceased making films after this jaw-dropping 1972 entry, his place in the cult movie pantheon would still be assured. Waters’ favorite leading lady (sometimes leading man) Divine was born to play Babs Johnson, who fights to retain her title of The Filthiest Person Alive against arch-nemesis Connie Marble (Mink Stole) and her skuzzy hubby.

It’s a white trash smack down of the lowest order; shocking, sleazy, utterly depraved-and funny as hell. Animal lovers be warned-a chicken was definitely harmed during the making of the film (Waters insists it was unintended, if that’s any consolation). If you are only familiar with Waters’ latter day work and want to explore his truly indie “roots” I’d recommend watching this one first. If you make it through without losing your lunch, you’re prepped for the rest of his oeuvre.

Repo Man – This 1984 punk-rock/sci-fi black comedy version of Rebel without a Cause is actually one of the more coherent efforts from mercurial U.K. filmmaker Alex Cox. Emilio Estevez is suitably sullen as disenfranchised L.A. punk Otto, who stumbles into a gig as a “repo man” after losing his job, getting dumped by his girlfriend and deciding to disown his parents. As he is indoctrinated into the samurai-like “code” of the repo man by sage veteran Bud (ever-droll Harry Dean Stanton) Otto begins to realize that he’s found his true calling.

A subplot involving a mentally fried government scientist on the run, driving around with a mysterious, glowing “whatsit” in the trunk is an obvious homage to Robert Aldrich’s 1955 noir, Kiss Me Deadly. Cox tosses a UFO conspiracy into the mix, and makes excellent use of L.A. locations (thanks in no small part to master cinematographer Robby Muller’s lens work). The fabulous soundtrack includes Iggy Pop, Black Flag, and The Circle Jerks.

The Rocky Horror Picture Show – The decades have not diminished the cult appeal of Jim Sharman’s film adaptation of Richard O’Brien’s original stage musical about a hapless young couple (Barry Bostwick and Susan Sarandon) who stumble into the lair of one Dr. Frank-N-Furter (Tim Curry) one dark and stormy night. Much singing, dancing, cross-dressing, axe-murdering, cannibalism and hot sex ensues-with broad theatrical nods to everything from Metropolis, King Kong and Frankenstein to cheesy 1950s sci-fi, Bob Fosse musicals, 70s glam-rock and everything in between. Runs out of steam a bit in the third act, but with such spirited performances (and musical numbers) you won’t notice. O’Brien co-stars as the mad doctor’s hunchbacked assistant, Riff-Raff. The ultimate midnight movie.

The Secret Adventures of Tom Thumb – Closer in spirit to Eraserhead than, say, Pinocchio, this is not the kind of fairy tale you would want your kids to watch before bedtime. English slum dwellers Ma and Pa Thumb (Deborah Collard and Nick Upton) are shocked when Ma gives birth to a pocket-sized infant. Still, the proud parents soon find themselves showering their adorable (if freakish) little Tom with love and affection. This happy family scenario is rudely interrupted when Tom is kidnapped by black-clad henchmen, who spirit him away to a truly creepy genetic lab. Tom’s secret adventures are only beginning.

Writer-director Dave Borthwick utilizes stop-motion techniques, combining live action with claymation to create an unsettling mood. It almost plays like a silent film; any “dialog” is unintelligible gibberish. The actors employ mannered facial tics and line deliveries that are oddly reminiscent of Billy Bob Thornton’s character in Sling Blade.

The Stunt Man – “How tall was King Kong?” That’s the $64,000 question, posed by Eli Cross (Peter O’Toole), the larger-than-life director of the film-within-the-film in Richard Rush’s 1980 drama. Once you discover that King Kong was but “3 foot, six inches tall”, it becomes clear that the fictional director’s query is actually code for a much bigger question: “What is reality?”

That is the question to ponder as you take this wild ride through the Dream Factory. Because from the moment our protagonist, a fugitive on the run from the cops (Steve Railsback) tumbles ass over teakettle onto Mr. Cross’s set, where he is in the midst of filming an art-house flavored WW I action adventure, his (and the audience’s) concept of what is real and what isn’t becomes hazy, to say the least.

O’Toole chews major scenery, ably supported by a cast that includes Barbara Hershey and Allen Garfield. Despite the lukewarm reviews from critics upon original release, it has since gained status as a cult classic. A 43-week run at the Guild 45th Theater in Seattle (booked by director Rush himself, out of his frustration with the releasing studio’s lackluster support) is credited for building word of mouth and assuring the film’s eventual critical reappraisal.

Tough Guys Don’t Dance – If “offbeat noir” is your thing, this is your kind of film. Ryan O’Neal plays an inscrutable ex-con with a conniving “black widow” of a wife, who experiences five “really bad days” in a row, involving drugs, blackmail and murder. Due to temporary amnesia, however, he’s not sure of his own complicity (O’Neal begins each day by writing the date on his bathroom mirror with shaving cream-keep in mind, this film precedes Memento by 13 years.)

Noir icon Lawrence Tierny (cast here 5 years before Tarantino tapped him for Reservoir Dogs) is priceless as O’Neal’s estranged father, who is helping him sort out events (it’s worth the price of admission when Tierny barks “I just deep-sixed two heads!”). Equally notable is a deliciously demented performance by B-movie trouper Wings Hauser as the hilariously named Captain Alvin Luther Regency. Norman Mailer’s “lack” of direction has been duly noted over the years, but his minimalist style works. The film has a David Lynch vibe at times (which could be due to the fact that Isabella Rossellini co-stars, and the soundtrack was composed by Lynch stalwart Angelo Badalamenti).

Where’s Poppa? – Carl Reiner’s 1970 black comedy (adapted by Robert Klane from his own novel) concerns a New York attorney (George Segal) who lives in a cramped apartment with his senile mother (Ruth Gordon). Honoring a deathbed promise to his dearly departed poppa, Segal takes care of his mother (as best he can). She’s a…handful. The beleaguered son’s day begins with prepping Mom’s preferred breakfast of 6 orange slices and a heaping bowl of Pepsi and Lucky Charms.

His businessman brother (Ron Leibman) is too “busy” to help, so Segal hires nurses to take care of ma while he’s at work. Unfortunately, she tends to drive them away with her over-the-top antics. When Segal falls head-over-heels in love with the latest hire (Trish Van Devere, in a priceless performance), his thoughts regarding how he’s going to “take care” of ma and keep this romance abloom become…darker.

Segal was rarely so hilariously exasperated as he gets here, it’s Gordon’s best (and most outrageous) comic performance, and the supporting cast (which includes Barnard Hughes, Vincent Gardenia, Paul Sorvino and Garrett Morris) is aces. This film is not for all tastes (it would never get green-lighted now) …but rates as one of my all-time favorite comedies.

Zardoz – I suspect my inclusion of John Boorman’s 1974 spaced-out oddity will raise an eyebrow or two, but as I’ve admitted on more than one occasion-there’s no accounting for some people’s taste. Once you get past sniggering over star Sean Connery’s costume (a red loincloth/diaper accessorized by a double bandolier and thigh-high go-go boots), this is an imaginative fantasy-adventure for adults.

Set in the year 2293 (why not?), Boorman’s story centers on thuggish but natively intelligent Zed (Connery) who roams the wastelands of a post-apocalyptic Earth with his fellow “Brutals” killing and pillaging with impunity. This all-male club worships a “god” named Zardoz, who speaks to them via a large flying stone head, which occasionally touches down so they can fill it with stolen grain. In exchange, Zardoz spews out rifles like a giant Pez dispenser, while intoning his #1 tenet “The gun is good, the penis is evil.”

One day Zed manages to stow away in the head just before takeoff, and when it lands he finds himself in the invisible force-field protected “Vortex”, where the elite “Eternals” live a seemingly idyllic and Utopian life that is purely of the mind. Bemused and fascinated by this “specimen” from the outside world, one of the Eternals  “adopts” Zed as his Man Friday while his fate is being debated. But who is really studying who?

Boorman’s story takes some inspiration from HG Wells’ The Time Machine, as well as another classic fantasy that becomes apparent in the fullness of the narrative, but it still stands out from the pack for sheer weirdness. There are also parallels to A Boy and His Dog (another film I’ve seen an unhealthy number of times).

In a way the “Eternals”-what with their crystals, pyramids, and hippy-dippy philosophical musings, presage the New Age Movement. Also, they pass judgement on anyone in their collective suspected of having “negative thoughts” with a telepathic vote; if found guilty the accused is “aged”  to drooling dotage and banished from the community (that’s social media in a nutshell).

Zachariah – Originally billed as “the first electric western”, George Englund’s 1971 curio barely qualifies as a “western”, but it certainly is plugged in, turned-on and far out, man. Perhaps a more apt title would have been “Billy the Kid vs Siddhartha”. No, seriously-it is (allegedly) based on Herman Hesse’s classic. Well, there is a protagonist, and he does go on a journey…but that’s where the similarities end. Still, I think it’s a hoot, with a screenplay concocted by members of The Firesign Theater (who later fled in horror from the finished product). It does have its moments; mostly musical.

My favorite scene features the original James Gang (Joe Walsh, Dale Peters and Jim Fox) rocking out in the middle of the desert as our hero (John Rubinstein) makes his grand entrance (it presages a scene in Blazing Saddles, where Sherriff Bart tips his hat to Count Basie and orchestra as they perform amidst the sagebrush). Also look for Country Joe and the Fish and fiddler Doug Kershaw. Don Johnson co-stars.

…one more thing

 

Sing us out, Doctor.