Cosmoeticadotcom Alchemy tries to get something from another thing, magic tries to get something from nothing. These ideas stuck in my mind watching The Mayor Of Sunset Strip- a documentary about a cipher of a man named Rodney Bingenheimer, and his coterie of even less significant hangers-on. Rodney's a famed DJ at Los Angeles radio station KROQ, credited with discovering acts such as Blondie, No Doubt, and Coldplay. However, he seems a dinosaur in his field, reduced to just one two-three hour gig on early Sunday mornings.The film tries to convince us of Rodney's significance to rock music the last four decades. This significance rests upon his DJing, and Zeligian ability to brown-nose celebrities. He started off as a stand in for The Monkees' Davy Jones, wrote music articles, owned a hip LA disco, and then got his radio gig. After that, it seems life started eroding. Rodney's become rock's Andy Warhol, with the same fey, blank demeanor. The difference is those who knew Warhol knew it was all an act for the media. With Rodney Bingenheimer, what you see is what you don't get. Pushing 60, Rodney's life is a mess- he lives in a dingy apartment, laced with memorabilia from celebrities such as Brooke Shields, Cher, and many others, yet his life is pitiable. He's lonely, stuck on a woman at least twenty years his junior, who feels nothing but disdain for Rodney- a point hammered home in an especially cruel scene where Rodney and she, on a bed, talk of their feelings for each other. He would marry her in an instant, yet he's only a 'friend'. That a fiftysomething wilts into this junior high sort of puppy love speaks volumes for Rodney.Rodney's lone uniquity seems to be that his cipher makes him a fawning funhouse mirror to insecure celebrities- whose gravitation towards him is perfectly understandable. Yet, with all these pals, why is Rodney so poor off? Because his lone ambition is to be an acolyte, to hang out with celebrities. Yet, we know all this in five minutes. Was it really necessary to devote a whole film to this man? The film isn't bad, but its best reason for existence is as a true life Spinal Tap.The film's commentary track by Carter and Rodney adds nothing. Rodney rambles mealy-mouthed about who such and such celebrity is, while Carter seems awestruck by it all. The track by Hickenlooper at least gives some insight into the film- but not Rodney. Outtakes and extra interviews are standard. Towards the end of the film Rodney travels to England to dump his dead mother's ashes into the ocean and there's an almost pornographic revelry in Rodney's and the film's delight in showing how hurt, bereft, and clueless Rodney is. It's as if the ashes were his last connection to a flesh and blood reality disconnected to celebrity. By showing it, Rodney shows how desperate he is to be known just to be known. The problem is the scene is overkill. We know Rodney's pathetic. While the film is finely made there's nothing within. It can be claimed that the film was a perfect cinematic recapitulation of its subject, and the argument has merit. Yet, this is the rare work of art I view against the prism of what it could have been, not what it is. It's unfair, and hypocritical, but to not acknowledge that would be worse. If I didn't I'd be Rodney- poor, lonely, pathetic Rodney. My quease is its triumph- ah, magic!

stephenwillyamz-1 Question: "Do you wish your life could have been different?" Mayor Rodney's Answer: "Mmmm, yeah actually…"Formerly Groovy Rodney Bingenheimer (born in 1946) is now an ugly little man with a hollow, monotone voice, bangs, tight pants and pointed "Beatle Boots"—lost in the 21st century. He adored his domineering Northern California waitress mother, Marion Bingenheimer, who dumped his father when he was three and consequently dumped him on the doorstep of Connie Stevens when he was 17. "I didn't see my mom for about five or six years."Anyway, Ms. Stevens wasn't home and suddenly homeless Rodney, trudged his way up to the Sunset Strip, beginning his hand to mouth existence mingling with, and riding the coattails of, up and coming pop music stars. The denizens of the music scene seemed to accept him mainly because he was such a harmless little guy. Kind of a penniless West Coast version of Andy Warhol."Rodney buys into the rock star myth, and derives a sense of gratitude and fulfillment from that energy."Soon, he was a body double for Davy Jones of the Monkeys. He also chummed around with Sonny and Cher whom he considered to be his substitute dad and mom. He had arrived in the giddy world of backstage passes and willing groupies.The halcyon sixties soon drew to a close and Rodney began his slow drift into obscurity. The one thing he remained very good at, was proclaiming which rock 'n roll groups would become popular…But he never seemed to made any money (at least no money to speak of) off of those predictions.Rodney currently lives in a shabby aging apartment off of Sunset, filled with pop memorabilia, which he refers to, somewhat facetiously as "Bingenheimer Manor". Mother Marion is dead; his current obsession, Camille considers him only as a "friend". Pushing 60, he's never been married; with a pop career consisting of an after midnight, three-hour once a week, DJ gig."Mayor" Bingenheimer has become a walking cautionary tale for those of us born in 1940s Boss Angeles, as well as those overly obsessed with celebrities.

goodwithfaces I had never heard of Rodney Bingenheimer prior to catching the doc on Showtime, so it was somewhat shocking to see how involved he was in the musical lives of many bands that I like. He, as has been said elsewhere, is like a musical Zelig; in one funny sequence, he is seen in the videos of the Mamas & Papas, Blondie, The Ramones (I think) and many more--one of the those nameless people in the background clapping their hands, singing along, etc.His acceptance by the famous as a male groupie is due to his nearly blank canvas of a personality--he seems to have no real emotional depth. His wallpaper-like persona is similar to Andy Warhol's except that Warhol's was very likely an act--there was a lot going on under that wig. That can't be said for Rodney. He has nothing much to say about anything other than "wow" or "really?" or "that's great." What he does have is good intentions and a lack of an exploitation gene so that celebrities feel safe around him.Interestingly, he has a Doppelganger in producer/artist Kim Fowley with whom he appears to be very close. Fowley is everything Bingenheimer is not: crass, manipulative, exploitative, even violent. It is an interesting psychological study. A second shadow figure is presented in an aspiring recording artist/sad sack that Bingenheimer befriends: these two friends carry some of the things that Bingenheimer cannot allow for himself.The film goes from a story of a guy gliding happily through life to a kind of sad story. When asked how he'd like the film to end, an obvious metaphor for his own life, Bingenheimer tellingly responds "I just want everyone to be happy, to enjoy the film." He cannot aspire to his own happiness, cannot make any real claims life. Ultimately, the famous who have made real lives for themselves, move on. Rodney, like Melvilles's Bartlby, cannot.

MovieMaven411 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.