“Are you a virgin?!”

No, it’s not an advance of any sort. It’s an audience filter for the innocent, a means to weed out and expose Rocky Horror seedlings to the comically sensuous light of a theater experience unlike any other. A gleaming stripper pole, a monitor fashioned out of scored cardboard and a human torso, tasseled pasties and the Time Warp. A typical weekend, right? And what better way of spending it than seeing your classmates decked out in fishnets, body-glitter and six-inch platforms? You’ll find yourself compelled to stand up and boogie with your fellow confused but excited patrons, and you’ll be impressed by how many guys have it in them to rock a corset and a garter belt.

Risley Hall dining room was cleared out and transformed into the stage for the dormitory’s adaptation of Richard O’Brien’s Rocky Horror Picture Show, a whole two hours of good, not-so-clean fun. An integral part of this extraterrestrial Transylvanian, trans-gendered, trans-everything-you-can-imagine landscape was the iconic red lipstick V scrawled across the chests and faces of many a Rocky “Virgin” in the audience, who were in store for what was perhaps the kinkiest, quirkiest treat of their college careers.

The night’s explosive beginning entailed the infamous Virgin games, in which a few lucky volunteers endeavored to slip condoms onto bananas with only their mouths or wolf down whole kiwis out of strangers’ laps in record time. The various segments of audience participation were, of course, designed to hurl people out of their comfort zone. The musical itself was, as it has been year after year, conducted in the classic cult style of silent acting before a giant projection of the original film. Risley’s rendition was true enough to appease even the most discerning of Rocky followers, though still managed to be original in its treatment of props, timing and character.

For those less familiar with the plot: An innocent, newly-engaged couple finds themselves at the door of a genuine fishnet-clad Dr. Frankenstein, who attempts to corrupt them after revealing Rocky, Frank’s well-muscled boy-toy creation. As Janet and Brad embark on a downward spiral of seduction, temptation and thigh-highs, the rest of the entourage is galvanized into song and dance; every character eventually forfeits their inhibitions in the “floor show,” and gaudy, tranny-riffic madness ensues.

Risleyites and former Risleyites elevated the production to a level of detail that is absent from most traditional Rocky showings. The play is typically executed with a minimum of props, a small stage and a lot of stumbling around — which is all good fun but evidently not enough of an undertaking for this year’s cast. Last weekend’s show featured a full set with a creative incorporation of human bodies, which bolstered the performances of cast members who were stunning likenesses of their film counterparts. (In the interests of encouraging future shameless performances, cast members asked not to be indentified by name.)

The leading roles of Janet Weiss and Brad Majors were performed by Risley freshmen, a perfect analogy for a couple ushered into a realm of debauchery and cross-dressing generated by transvestite-mad scientist Frank N’ Furter of the planet Transsexual. Rocky was female for the purposes of this individual show, which yielded many interesting consequences considering that “he” is nearly naked upon entrance and that Janet seduces him in a fast-paced number (“Touch-a, touch-a, touch-a, touch me”) once she sees Brad in bed with Frank. The role of the criminologist, who narrates this preposterous tale, has also been an experiment in interpretation over the past years at Risley. This time, the characterization of this omniscient personality was left to a sensuous female duo, the stylings of whom captivated audience members each time the plot deepened. A surreal display of bodies on the dining hall floor writhing in mimicry of the pool orgy projected behind them topped off a risqué collage of visual stimuli.

This highly reactive combination of stage lighting, flashy attire, audience participation and well-timed callbacks wove a titillating, electric world. A moving film backdrop coupled with live action made for a dynamic viewing experience in which the movie was expanded rather than simply imitated. But be warned: the more times you watch this amazingly vivacious, sexually charged thriller-comedy, the less sense it seems to make. A few of the details must be spared for the sake of publication propriety, but explicit material aside, the show was an engrossing balance of party and production, of talent and senseless temptation. If you missed Rocky this year — and shame on you — be sure to seize next year’s opportunity to be beamed off to Transsexual Transylvania.