A show that begins with an announcement laying a ban on throwing hotdogs sets up its audience in a big way — either for something fantastic or for a huge disappointment. Luckily for the Yale Cabaret, their revival of “The Rocky Horror Show” this weekend lives up to its forewords.

“Rocky Horror” claims to be science fiction, but soon spirals out of the realm of standard plot devices. On a pilgrimmage to find the professor who introduced them, newly affianced Brad (Matthew Humphreys DRA ’03) and Janet (Bess Wohl DRA ’02) have a minor car accident and are forced to seek help at a nearby mansion.

There they find crazed Transylvanian transvestite Dr. Frank N. Furter (Brad Heberlee DRA ’02), who’s about to execute his plan to create Rocky (Andrew Gularte), the quintessential boy toy. From there, the story defies summary, but aliens, bedroom farce and cross-dressing feature prominently.

As Brad, first defensive and then titillated, Humphreys is a marvel in coke bottle lenses, particularly at the beginning and end of the show. Wohl’s Janet makes a sparkling, well-sung transition from a prim pink frock and pumps to — well, not much. Heberlee is a gartered phenomenon. He prowls across the floor like a caged jungle cat, stalking Janet and Brad and attacking his long-awaited Rocky with predatory ferocity.

The Cabaret’s “Rocky” benefits hugely from the Yale’s cult following of the movie version, acted out every year on Halloween. Among the audience members of Thursday night’s show were more than a few who had previously been inducted into the mysteries of the show’s unique routine. The cast whipped around the floor with tremendous energy and comic timing, but nearly half the laughs came from the call-and-response shouting from tables sprinkled through the room. Toward the end, most everyone had picked up on the act — the “slut!” shouts just kept getting louder.

The tightly packed subterranean space that houses the Cabaret is a perfectly claustrophobic venue for this show. “Rocky” has always played both on its shock factor — occasional gasps were audible — and its uncanny ability to engage its audiences, both of which are enhanced by the intimacy.

Traditionally a glamorama, the show had been scaled back a bit by new Cabaret director Tamilla Woodard DRA ’02 to fit space and budget constraints (sample: no motorcycle). But voluble, energetic singing and snappy, polished choreography more than made up for it.

The show’s finale provided demonstration enough of its power, as most of the audience jumped to its feet and joined the cast in doing the Time Warp, the show’s signature dance. Toward the end of the show, a pouty-lipped Frank whines, “It’s not easy having a good time.”

I beg to differ.