Mayor of the Sunset Strip

A few months ago, while awaiting my late-night food at *that* deli in Hollywood, I went up to a seated Rodney Bingenheimer and told him straight up: "'Mayor of the Sunset Strip' is one of the most important films I've ever seen." Emphasis on the word "important". I then explained why, and he just smiled, closed his eyes and nodded.

Less an indulgence in the overplayed phenomenon of "celebrity", this film is much more of a (rare) viewing of notoriety's seedy, cultist aspects under modern capitalism. In an age when "fame" and "celebrity" are their own forms of hard currency (E.G. invite a known celebrity to YOUR party -- whatever the occasion -- and see how many people RSVP within a matter of hours...), this is a film worth studying. The Yale-educated director, who not ironically directed "Hearts of Darkness", shrewdly turns the subject of Rodney Bingenheimer's literal 'staying power' in Hollywood into an entertaining and thought-provoking look at FAME AS A DISEASE. When the film is viewed under this poignant and increasingly relevant context, then Rodney really isn't that different from anyone else in America (or hyper-consuming Western culture in general). Nope, no one ultimately cares that you ran into Paul McCartney once in your twenties, but you'll keep mentioning it anyway...because you *matter*!!!

I watched the film on DVD (the preferred format, considering the variety of interviews in the "extras" portion) again after a yearlong lapse from my first viewing, only to further absorb its potency on the above-mentioned. A telling and strangely comforting aspect shown is the palpable discomfort on the faces of certain demonstrably lifelong insecure hyper-celebrities (Cher, Brooke Shields, Liam from Oasis) over talking about Rodney, their mercurial lives and ultimately, how they view "fame". One senses that, even if after attaining that much "acceptance", that you're still not comfortable in your own skin, then it's best not to carry as much celebrity currency in your pockets in the first place when - God Forbid -- you'd have to ever pay some of it back to those who've helped you attain it along the way.

Not all of the film's included luminaries came across in such fashion, however -- Ray Manzerick, Gwen Stefani, Nancy Sinatra, Elvis Costello, Brian Wilson and David Bowie more or less stayed clear of such forced sincerity (read: barely contained cringing) in this film. And yet, I'd be lying if I said that all of the awkward celebrity posturing wasn't the most entertaining aspect of the film – yes, even more so then simply the presence of the celebs who appear.

Brooke Shield's interview in the DVD is akin to an actual cognitive behavioral therapy session, where she relates how she's (supposedly) overcome her past nagging needs for acceptance. This caveat is telling, considering her much publicized postpartum depression (E.G. newborns don't know how to adore "celebrity" on cue, hence potentially magnifying the neuroses of past rejections felt by such otherwise "me-first" celebrities during, say, all-night baby crying sessions).

Author and 'fame expert' Leo Braudy is featured briefly commenting on the nature of fame and the public's obsession with it, concluding that he doesn't know who Rodney Bingenheimer is. I would've rather included authors Richard Schickel or Tyler Cowen (the latter an economist), who would've provided better insights without the added flippancy. Ironically (or maybe not so, considering the difference between having BEEN in the fame trenches versus simply writing about them), Rodney's darker trenches mate and alter-ego Kim Fowley actually sums up fame better than does Braudy with a nutshell synopsis of what drives people to seek fame, or the famous. Fowley accurately diagnoses Rodney and everyone else in Hollywood -- in itself worth watching the movie for, especially because Fowley illustrates the wacky, surreal and even palpably evil accumulation of frothy on-the-edges-of-fame excess that isn't limited to just the non-Wilshire Blvd. (read: corporate) entertainment industry, but sums up fame's very heart and that industry's core.

The film also shrewdly (and deservedly) shines a subtly dismissive light onto "alternative radio" juggernaut, KROQ, which is now to 'cutting edge' and 'fidelity to founding visionaries' what Alice Cooper was to 'subtlety'. KROQ DJ Jed the Fish's summing up of KROQ's essential value of Rodney Bingenheimer as more or less irrelevant to modern musical trends is tactically contrasted by the director with a brief yet accurate portrayal of KROQ's core current audience -- sweaty, tattooed, violent, soul-less subhuman Huns who urinate openly at concerts and grunt to hackneyed noise passing as their distressingly elected life anthems.

The viewer stumbles upon something: Being that "fame" has created its own marketplace, it's obvious that Rodney has a unique talent that can be shopped around (to Indy 103.1 or satellite radio, for instance)...away from a midnight to 3:00 AM slot on KROQ. Yet, because of the uniquely demonic characteristics of cut-throat, increasingly commercial yet still elusive Hollywood, one then realizes possibly why the less opportunistic 'good souls' (to quote Starsailor) like Rodney don't have agents shopping their said talents around: Despite not retaining any known instrumental or singing talents, a "radio-friendly voice" (Jed the Fish? Swedish Eagle? Adam Corolla?!?) or Teutonic good looks, still, at least Rodney is not a hack.

I'd make this film required viewing in suburban high schools as well as in college courses involving media or cultural studies, sociology, psychology, the arts and/or the humanities. Best to cork that genie in our tortured youth before 'groupie-dom' tries to compensate for their disturbingly growing lack of self-esteem...

With that said, God Bless Rodney Bingenheimer.

THE MAYOR OF SUNSET STREET (dir.George Hickenlooper) provides a provocative and in depth analysis of Rodney Bingenheimer, one of the most influential pop-music media figures of the last 40 years, yet for all of his power and influence, the man seems lonely, adrift, and somewhat shattered. Hickenlooper overwhelmingly makes the case that Rodney was at the very epicenter of what was 'hip' for many decades. However, by the end of the film, one wonders how such close access to wealth, celebrity, and mass adulation would gain Rodney so very little. It is both sad and ironic that a man who's impeccable taste brought joy to millions of music fans would end up in such a melancholy situation. THE MAYOR OF SUNSET STREET is a strikingly original portrait of a rather doleful individual.

Nothing says more about LA or its much maligned Hit-Driven Radio than Rodney Bingenheimer.

He personally broadcast inspired musical choices on KROQ, his cutting edge decisions to play breakout bands, his warm dedication to Rock N' Roll in the face of fast cash that was always "within his grasp".

I think every young guy of 18-24 wants the "Rodney life". Babes, rock , free music, speedy lifestyle... wow--he had it all !!!

...but it all comes down to the thin brown ashes off the side of a boat in the English Channel. A rare naked moment for Rodney when he's finally "sending off" his Mother. All of a sudden, his edgy life feels empty.

In 1979, when I hit L.A. , Rodney on the ROCKS was the best Saturday night show on radio. What is really great, is that rare magic spikes comes through the classic Rock icon images like the pasty multiple facelifts of a monotone Nancy Sinatra, who can't move her lips.

In the '80's and 90's, his influence on generation(s) of young music fans was unparalleled. Mind you, he has the worst voice ever created for radio. Now, he's faded to a Doctor Demento cult figure that seems more tragic than I would like.

Rodney seems lost and now a little desperate around the edges.... (What does he do besides work 3 hours a week??)

The documentary is brilliant.... How many documentaries have a bad guy that you love to hate--- Kim Fowley-- the Human Canker Sore. (Mr. Fowley claims no drug use but keep inhaling and touching his nose?!? I suspect he might end up on a free guest spot for "Six Feet Under") I'm kinda glad to have NEVER met Kim Fowley in person. Even his video presence is a little freaky.

And... Rodney is never judgmental to anyone... probably a more human flaw when it comes to the Fowleys of this world.

As a co-star in this movie I am duty-bound to make a correction, namely, that RODNEY was NOT dropped off at Connie Stevens' house by his mother. This was a fabrication introduced by the director, and voiced by Kim Fowley.

I agree with several people: the movie should be re-cut (it's possible, because the raw footage is still in storage) and the crap (the too- "dark" stuff) removed...and made much longer. So much was never seen...

and this was supposed to be a pro-RODNEY movie (and not an anti-Kim Fowley picture). It could have been a GREAT documentary instead of just a GOOD one...

Trivia: Originally, this movie was supposed to have been offered via Paramount Pictures. What would have happened IF it had, one wonders?

Rodney Bingenheimer. I hadn't heard his name before this film, but the friend I went to a pre-screening had. I am not originally from Southern California, but my friend is. I never knew the influences people can have over a scene. I am so glad there are people like Rodney out there. In this world of corporate takeovers and the almighty dollar, I am happy there are people who stick to their guns like Rodney. He is one of the last Djs in America that doesn't have a corporation make his playlist and his life reads like a history of who's who in the rock world. He has been everywhere, with Elvis, with John Lennon, with the Beatles eating up shrimp that should have been saved for the Doors. He was Davy Jones' double on the Monkees. He was in "Rock and Roll High School!" He exposed a lot of music in the punk and new wave eras, that might have not been heard otherwise. He played the Sex Pistols when no radio station would touch them. He took a chance on a weirdo named Bowie. He still takes chances, like playing a local (SD) act called Sin Sin 77, which I will have to check out now!

It is hard to believe at times that so many famous people would seek out Mr.Bingerheimer as a friend, but he comes off in the film and in real life (I was lucky enough to meet him and hear him speak after the film...peaks of being close to LA!) as a sincere person who is in it for the music. He likes people and is almost a reflective elflike Warholesque character. He is an introvert and that is what makes this documentary so intensely real, he makes no pretenses, what you see is what you get.

I didn't know at the time of seeing this pre-screening for free, that Rodney was going to show up along with the director, George Hickenlooper (great names!) but it was a rare treat. A local indie station hosted the evening, gave out CDs and tee shirts...what a great night. I had to run home and write everyone to go see this film and get a rare glimpse into the life of someone who lived in the Hollywood rock scene most of his life and has had such a wonderful influence on modern radio. Now if they would only play Rasputina on K-Roq, that would be something!

Can't wait to go up to LA to one of Bingenheimer's "English Disco" nights. I hope he actually gets Wednesday nights on K-roq because he should get more time then a night owl time on Sunday. But it sounds like his audience is young. Why the corporate machine doesn't grab on to the idea that many young people, such as myself, want to listen to new and different music and try to market radio more towards us, like, umm, giving Djs the right to play their own playlists?

I am so glad to know Rodney's story and see all the old footage of Hollywood and rock bands. It is truly an unique and valuable one! This is a must see and is Oscar worthy in my book!