New Documentary Pulls the Curtain Back on Famed L.A. Rocker Hangout the Sunset Marquis

It’s a demure building, perched on a sloping drive perpendicular to the neon lights and flashy billboards of Sunset Boulevard. But if you know, you know: The Sunset Marquis hotel is a place where rockers stay, where for decades they’ve thrown parties, trashed rooms, pulled pranks, gathered inspiration and recorded tracks.

Now, the new documentary If These Walls Could Rock is pulling back the curtain on this industry hotspot. Directed by the author of a book on the hotel, Craig A. Williams, and veteran rock and roll doc filmmaker Tyler Measom, the film charts the property’s storied past and evolution from seedy party haven for 1970s rockers to a quiet-luxury escape for celebs from cameras and autograph-seekers. The film premieres at DOC NYC on Friday, with Bungalow Media + Entertainment handling sales.

Befitting its subject, If These Walls Could Rock dishes up plenty of juicy stories. There are musicians like Billy Bob Thornton and Michael Des Barres recalling their many antics at the property (drugs, sex and more drugs and sex). There is the hotel general manager goodheartedly reminiscing about Green Day’s many pranks at the hotel — once the band stole plants from the Sunset Marquis and dyed their room green to create a jungle — though he dealt with the consequences. And there is Morrissey doing an interview in his pajamas, as he requested.

“Most people have no idea of the history,” Measom says. “Even the musicians who stay there, I don’t even think they know the vast history of this hotel. And they won’t know until this film is out.”

The project began after Williams and Measom met each other while working on the Paramount+ hair-metal docuseries I Wanna Rock: The ’80s Metal Dream. On set, Williams shared his dream of making a documentary about the Sunset Marquis. “I had no idea that place existed, really,” recalls Measom. “But when I read Craig’s book, I was amazed [at] this place, which as we mention in the film is hiding in plain sight… So naturally I dove right in.”

The first step was to convince owners Mark Rosenthal and his father George, a developer who founded the hotel in the 1960s as a means of catering to patrons of the nearby Playboy Club, which he also developed. That took “more than a few lunches,” Williams says. The Rosenthals were torn between celebrating the hotel’s history and honoring its reputation for discretion and secrecy.

But the Rosenthals agreed to participate after ultimately being attracted to the idea of “a story about a place of community and connection in this time where it feels like people are not very connected and not together,” Williams says. In the film, George Rosenthal recalls his desire to build something of an artists’ colony in the Sunset Marquis, which was modeled off the Garden of Allah, the now-demolished hotel on Sunset Boulevard whose villas catered to early Hollywood stars.

That he did, and the documentary features a murderers’ row of iconic rock stars who have stayed and partied there, including Bruce Springsteen, Ringo Starr, Slash, Cyndi Lauper, Sheryl Crow and Billy Gibbons of ZZ Top.

Getting them all to appear in the doc wasn’t easy. Kelly and Sharon Osbourne were quick to sign on, as were some prominent photographers, say the directors. But the floodgates really opened when Dave Grohl agreed to sit for an interview.

Another tool the filmmakers had on their side? Rick Krim, the head of the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame nominating committee, who is an executive producer. “You don’t want to piss off Rick Krim,” Measom says in a joking tone.

Thorton, the self-proclaimed “unofficial mayor of the Sunset Marquis,” acts as a kind of emcee-slash-narrator for the story. Wearing a tank and a peace-sign necklace and often filmed smoking, the actor and musician takes the filmmakers on a tour of various spots in the hotel that mean something to him as a frequent resident; at one point, he lived in the hotel for six years.

“I’m very protective of this place. When I see people here being douchebags or something, I’ve actually said things to people,” he says in the film, with a wide smile.

What the film doesn’t feature much is young and emerging music talent, even as the filmmakers maintain that today’s stars also frequent the place. “We reached out to countless new artists,” says Measom. “Maybe it’s because they didn’t recognize the history of it or because it doesn’t have the same meaning to them that it did for the artists of the ’70s and ’80s yet.”

In some ways, the film is a reflection on the changing nature of fame, charting how the hotel evolved to meet the needs of its clientele from the ’60s to today. Rock stars’ famed debauchery has diminished in an era where anyone can whip out their cell phone to record a candid, potentially compromising moment and post it online. Now, the hotel serves more as a refuge similar to other Sunset Boulevard staples like the Chateau Marmont, rather than the life of the party.

Now, musicians can perform at the hotel’s underground recording studio, Nightbird, rather than disturb their neighbors by playing guitar in their rooms. Management shut down the hotel’s Whisky Bar after it became too much of a scene, a magnet for celebrities like Ben Affleck, Eminem and George Clooney in the ’90s, and thus groupies and paparazzi. It was redesigned into a more low-key space, Bar 1200.

And the music industry has changed, too. Several musicians in the film recall getting sober as their careers progressed.

“Musicians are vastly different than they were in 1970. They don’t party like they did in 1970. They don’t hang out like they did in 1970, and the hotel reflects that,” says Measom. “It’s much more a place 1763152371 where people can bring their kids.”

Adds William: “I don’t know if they party like they did back then. They definitely don’t do it in public.”