Exploitation, Justification and Gender Roles in The Decline of Western Civilization Part II: The Metal Years
- Sid B

- Jan 12
- 14 min read

The Decline of Western Civilization Part II: The Metal Years is the most well-known film in the trio of documentaries presented by filmmaker Penelope Spheeris. Released in the summer of 1988, The Decline of Western Civilization Part II chronicles the burgeoning glam metal scene developing in Los Angeles over the course of less then a year. Made on a budget of roughly $500,000 and grossing $373,759 during its run, it was the most successful of the three documentaries, though it failed to break even.
In recent years, the film has oft been criticized for its flashiness and high production quality when put up against the do-it-yourself stylings of Part I and Part III, for admittedly staged interviews, or simply for being more accessible then the other two. Regardless of these criticisms or their validity, The Decline of Western Civilization Part II has held onto its status as a cult film steadfast. And, unlike many documentaries about music, Part II holds its own unique thematic elements.
Exploitation
The lens through which The Decline of Western Civilization Part II: The Metal Years is presented to its audience is one of exploitation, both internally and externally.

Internally, among the bands featured, the main object of exploitation is the women that surround them. Paul Stanley waxes poetic about the true meaning of metal while sprawled out on a bed, surrounded by scantily clad women. Gene Simmons, while also surrounded by scantily clad women, is interviewed in a lingerie store. Across various interviews with various bands, women are simultaneously cherished and treated like a commodity, as something irreplaceable that holds inherent worth, and as dime-a-dozen groupies that can be picked up on any street corner.
Groupies are no strangers to metal bands. Though they are not featured explicitly in The Decline of Western Civilization, they are such a prominent aspect of the musical world as a whole that the knowledge of them lingers on throughout the film, peeking out from behind the shadows whenever the topic of women is breached in discussion. Tales of escapades with groupies are recounted by a handful of bands, with varying levels of detail. One story recounted is of Poison bassist Bobby Dall being woken up in the middle of the night by a screaming girl who was trying to get out of Bret Michael’s room for fifteen minutes. The reason for this, we are thankfully spared from hearing.

The good will of the women who are civil with the bands is also exploited. They are considered a separate class from the floozies, instead being designated the archetype more befitting of a road wife. Several teenagers belonging to unsigned local acts not featured in the film discuss allowing women to pay for their dinner, groceries, mending and purchasing of clothes, transportation and even promotion, which Rikki Rocket of Poison describes as “a form of prostitution”.
Though the maltreatment of groupies and road wives is typical behavior among rock and metal bands, what is not typical behavior is the exploitation of the women who remain relatively distanced from the musicians compared to their more prominent counterparts. These women are primarily depicted in two scenarios: as audience members at LA club the Cat House, or as dancers in Bill Gazzarri’s “Miss Gazzarri” contest.

The Cat House, in operation from 1986-1993, was founded by future Headbanger’s Ball VJ Riki Rachtman and Faster Pussycat lead singer Taime Downe, and is depicted in the film as being nothing more than a standard late-nite party spot that could be found scattered throughout the city. It boasts having been the current and former haunts of various metal icons, but is primarily used as a place to ogle girls.
While being interviewed about the founding of the Cat House, Taime Down describes it as a “place where we could meet strippers”, and Riki Rachtman goes on to discuss the more scandalous side effects as so: “They don’t wear much clothes at the Cat House. We have this policy of never really keeping the air conditioning on, so it gets really hot, so it’s like…they show a lot of flesh here.”
Through these statements it becomes obvious that, though functioning as very different institutions, the Cat House and the Miss Gazzarri dance contest share the same baseline motivation: to have a place where it is socially acceptable, or even encouraged, to objectify and mistreat women.

The Miss Gazzarri dance contest is not sugar-coated in the film, as much as its participants would like for it to be through their declarations of its “classiness” and discussions on how many opportunities it has given them to advance their careers in things such as acting or modeling. Gazzarri’s is a glorified strip show. It is judged by local musicians, namely Nadir D’Priest of London, who derides the presentation aspects of the show, yet indulges in it anyways.
Though Spheeris does not use women as her focal point, externally, The Decline of Western Civilization functions as an exploitation film. Spheeris is showcasing the glam metal scene that has cropped up in Los Angeles as some sort of oddity, ultimately using the documentary as an opportunity to cash in on the glam metal trend and sensationalize what it is comprised of.
From the very beginning, it is clear that Spheeris wants next to nothing to do with her documentary subjects. She asks them probing questions designed to get highly tailored answers out of them, and when they don’t comply, she pushes even further until she either gets what she wants or they ultimately change the subject.
The Decline of Western Civilization Part II is chock full of moments such as these that, while characteristic of Spheeris’ documentaries, feel particularly inappropriate and invasive to bear witness to in the context of the glitz and garishness of the rest of the film.
The up-and-coming LA bands are the subjects that are on the receiving end of the bulk of this behavior. Through their antics they are painted as inexperienced, undeserving fools who shouldn’t be given the time of day based on various negative aspects of their behavior. She is exploiting the fact these kids believe in themselves and turning it into one big joke.

Any attempt at sincerity and vulnerability from her subjects is played down by Spheeris. When Randy ‘O’, lead singer of Odin, reveals that considering a future where he does not become a successful musician leaves him feeling suicidal, she pans to the reactions of the band and their groupies to emphasize just how much life was sucked out of the room, turning the confession into melodrama.
During an interview with Steven Tyler and Joe Perry of Aerosmith, in regards to their past struggles of substance abuse, Spheeris has the gall to ask the newly-clean musicians “are you proud of it?”. Hoping to get some self-deprecating answer out of them, they instead take the road less traveled and give her nothing to go off of.
Another example of Spheeris’ strange methods of questioning not working out in her favor was the drunken interview with W.A.S.P. guitarist Chris Holmes. Holmes dodges questions, ignores them, lays out half-coherent half-truths, and babbles on through slurred statements regarding his alcoholism, never revealing if this behavior resulted as a consequence of his fame or not. Despite a clear answer not being given, Spheeris positions Holmes’ problems with alcohol almost as if they are his fault.

Spheeris even has the nerve to close out the film with a performance from Megadeth, pioneers of thrash metal, as if to taunt all the glam metal bands she just interviewed, saying “look at where metal is really going, and then look at you. You’re ridiculous.” It operates as one final “fuck you” to Odin, to London, to Faster Pussycat and Seduce, and to all the fans she interviewed and subsequently made money off of.
Justification
Because of the degree in which exploitation is a feature of the film, justification for this exploitation and the general deviant/delinquent behavior which is being depicted alongside it is another recurring theme in The Decline of Western Civilization Part II.
The primary issue that is being justified is that of being a member of a metal band. Many of the local teenagers being interviewed scrabble for reasons as to why they should be allowed to participate in their local scenes instead of building up a safety net for themselves in the future. In their minds, they simply have no other choice.
Of the things they have to justify, a mainstay is that being a member of a metal band is not considered to be serious work as a nine-to-five is. It is considered by the social structure around them to be the job of a lazy, ignorant bum, the stereotype of which these bands have to consistently point out isn’t true.
Gregory Harges, lead singer of Lizzy Borden, tells Spheeris: “Most people think it’s a glamorous life, and you go from playing small clubs and the next thing you know, you’re playing to the forums of the world. There’s a million bands out there and all these bands are playing the clubs and they’re playing them for a long time.”
Local concert promoter Desi Benjamin further justifies this lifestyle to Spheeris: “Most of them just got out of high school, and they don’t know what to do, and they can’t get real jobs ‘cause they don’t look right for real jobs.”
It’s not that these teenagers and young men do not want to work (though that is the case for several of them), it’s that they aren’t designed for the type of work expected from them by general society. Even for those who are theoretically fit to work a nine-to-five, or an office job, or as a plumber or cashier or construction worker, their own personal sense of style and individuality, and the refusal to abandon this style and individuality, prevents them from doing so.
The successful and unknown bands alike seem to be stuck in a cycle of continually proving that they are hardworking, functioning members of society whose work serves a purpose and deserves to be respected just as any other person’s would. Rikki Rocket elaborates: “You sort of push the boat out into the water, y’know, threw the anchor, what else are you gonna do? You sink or swim.”, while Gregory Harges tells Spheeris “You do get tired of the road. Seven nights a week, that’s our schedule.”

Disc jockey Tawn Mastrey positions being involved in heavy metal subculture as secondary to many people’s lives. She declares, “We have a real sense of responsibility, and we’re taxpayers and, in fact, are very prominent in the business world. We are also heavy metal rockers!” She makes this statement almost as if she is unaware she holds a much more stable and conventional job then many of her fellow heavy metal aficionados ever will.
There is also the notion that kids who join metal bands are in it solely because it will make them good money. Seduce vocalist Mark Andrews quickly shoots this down: “If I was in it for the money,” he says, “I would’ve left a long time ago.”
Members of heavy metal bands and their fans are also consistently made to justify their bad behavior to the rest of society. During the documentary, a process known as “de-metaling”, led by Orange county probation officer Darlyne Pettinicchio is described and depicted, though very minimally.

In this process, a few things happen: the teenager’s listening habits are restricted, as their albums and tapes are taken away from them. Their freedom of expression is restricted, as all clothing they own related to the metal subculture is removed and, though we don’t see it, they are presumably made to cut their hair. Lastly, they are put on probation, so that officers employed in the “de-metaling” program can make sure that all teenagers passed through this process do not relapse.
She goes on to explain, with absolute certainty, how the devil horns hand-gesture associated with metal is satanic. Spheeris then counters these statements by asking Pettinicchio, “Do you think Ozzy is a messenger of the devil?”, to which she does not respond. She knows this is a ridiculous belief, and yet she cannot bring herself to deny it, because she has whole-heartedly bought into the idea that such notions are true.
“It’s hard to tell what Ozzy’s intentions are,” Pettinicchio finally says, attempting to justify her own beliefs, “but the thing that we see is the behavior that results from kids who take the lyrics literally.”
Whether or not this “de-metaling” is an effective solution to this perceived problem is not shown. It does, however, make one thing clear: Pettinicchio’s presence in this film is working against her. Her display of her own adamant hatred for metal makes her look like a fool to the audience.

The mere existence of such a program justifies why kids join the heavy metal subculture: metal resonates with them because they feel that the society they live in is pushing down on them, as it does to metal itself. By showcasing how adults further restrict their outlets for self-expression, the documentary then positions the rebellion of these kids as necessary to combat the oppression the systems in power are subjecting them to, making them martyrs and underdogs for their cause.
Many of the side-effects of joining a subculture with violence and misogyny heavily staining its reputation are not explored in the documentary. Later in the film, London guitarist Lizzie Grey exclaims, while pointing directly at the camera, “We are not role models for your life!”, as if this absolves all metal bands from any guilt for the negative and, at times, anti-social actions of their fans.
Justification crops up in multiple other forms in the documentary, though on a much minor scale then as previously described.
Spheeris’ justification for depicting glam metal in such a way is positing her film as an exposé piece meant to show the bands for what they really are, set out to warn the public against the depravity and debauchery that could soon call their own towns home. She believes she is doing everybody a favor. In the original Decline of Western Civilization, she offered punk bands exposure. Now she is offering bands to the tabloids.
The problem of newer bands potentially copying or stealing from their predecessors is addressed, though its defense is much briefer than its prosecution. Ozzy Osbourne sums the issue up quite curtly, stating “nobody is original, we’re all thieves.” Paul Stanley sums it up more eloquently: “Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, and it’s nice to know you made some sort of mark on music.”
Something else the forerunners of metal find themselves having to justify on behalf of the younger bands was the flashiness and effeminate aspects of their images.
Most of this defense is done by Poison’s Bret Michaels, who more so seems primarily concerned with justifying the continued existence of Poison. He starts by telling Spheeris, “What’re Poison gonna do that’s gonna make us stick out from the crowd? Well, we had an outrageous look, an outrageous sound.” and concludes, rather pathetically, with “The older we get, the uglier we get, the more makeup we gotta put on.”
Even those not particularly inclined to indulge in such fey manners of dress find themselves being able to justify their mincing counterparts. Chris Holmes, during his drunken interview, when asked how he feels about men in makeup, responds: “I’m not into that personally, but if it sells records, albums…yes.”
Gender Roles
There is a much heavier emphasis on gender roles in The Metal Years than there was in the original Decline Of documentary.
A criticism that prevails throughout the film, and in reference to glam metal in general, is the question of “why do the men look like that?”. They present themselves in a way that is completely foreign to other musicians; they are never allowed to forget how this others them from their peers, marking them like a brand.
“We’ve never gone out and put lipstick on and stuff like that,” Dave Mustaine tells Spheeris, “and put hairspray so that it looks like there’s a truck goin’ past us, goin’ ninety.” Through this statement, we can see that Mustaine views himself as superior to these lowly, sleazy young men who dare commit the sin of effeminacy, though he never says it so straightforwardly. He will never have to bring himself down to their level, fully expecting them, with no other choice, to come up to him.

Underlining this fear of effeminacy is homophobia. While subtle, it does leak through the cracks of conversation through snide remarks and unruly facial expressions. It rears its ugly head in conversation with Joe Perry, when he says: “When it’s all theatrical effect, I guess it’s cool. It’s when they wear it offstage ‘n try’n pat you on the ass, it warns me.” He chooses his words very deliberately–he minimizes the prevalence of makeup in stage presence and perpetuates the stereotype that gay men are all effeminate and over-the-top–as if he hasn’t spent his whole career being over-the-top.
A plethora of women are interviewed by Spheeris in regards to their preferences. Many of them deride the men in the scene, not for how they take advantage of women and face no social repercussions, but for their personal senses of style. One tells Spheeris, “it’s a turn off for me to kiss a guy that has got redder lipstick then I do,” while another says “If a guy came to pick me up for a baseball game, or something, and was wearing makeup, I probably wouldn’t answer the door!”
The men in the documentary are not given many chances to defend themselves, and very few others are willing to stand up for them. A few interviewees throw around words like “transvestite”, “bisexual tendencies” and “phase”, conveying that these modes of expression and sexuality are considered temporary through the impermanence implied in all three. People considered transvestites are not permanently stuck cross-dressing, and terms like ‘tendencies’ and ‘phase’ imply these things will inevitably be grown out of.
Masculinity itself is painted as a never-ending competition in the metal world. The mere act of existing in a music scene so densely populated turns into a permanent dick measuring contest, making self-promotion unnecessarily difficult. Rikki Rocket describes the process: “Puttin’ all our fliers up, wallpaperin’ it, and along would come another band, and they’d cover it up, and then you’d sneak back, and it’s a war!”

This veneer of machismo put on by so many bands, especially those who preceded glam metal, is not questioned within the confines of the documentary. The closest we get is this comment made by Nadir D’Priest: “What is a fucking rockstar? A dude that’s got more money then I do? I got a bigger dick then all those dudes do! And it doesn’t mean anything!” This statement goes unanalyzed for the rest of the film’s runtime, left to be forgotten amongst the lengthy discussions surrounding the role of women.
Glam metal has a long history concerning its common lyrical themes of misogyny and violence against women. It is the premier genre to be criticized for these themes, while other subgenres of metal are left to get off scott free for their equally deplorable views against women.

“Women are portrayed to be abused. They’re being bound in chains.” Darlyne Pettinicchio says. “Many of the styles portray them as having handcuffs on, leg irons, being locked in cages, there’s a very brutal aspect towards women in heavy metal because it very much appeals to the male, macho image.”
“If you’re gonna bump into some chick, and you just got into town and she’s gonna fuck you, you know she’s fucked everybody else from this star on down,” Seduce guitarist David Black opines, “so what’s the point? I mean, that’s pretty much conquered ground.”
Women are not granted the same standing as men in the metal scene. Circumstances such as those previously described have made it difficult for female fans to gain respect in the community. They are often looked down upon, and their male counterparts frequently make attempts to delegitimize their interest in the genre. The same goes for those attempting to gain serious followings in metal: music made by women is devalued and seen as lesser than that made by men, left to be forgotten by history.

Even in her interviews with local kids, the women in the scene seem to play second fiddle to the men. Of the subjects interviewed, the majority are men while only a handful are women. They have very little to say in regards to metal that differs from the male fans, and many of the women are only interviewed once, whereas we see all male interviewees at least twice. In the original documentary, two bands fronted by women were prominently featured. No bands fronted by women are depicted in Part II.
Glam metal does not receive the same sympathy awarded by Spheeris to the punks in Part I or Part III. Unlike the punks, who Spheeris seems to genuinely enjoy conversing with based on her interviews, and who Spheeris makes considerable effort to clear up many stereotypes and misconceptions about, the metalheads are shunned, turned away to the cold of the night, as she perpetuates all the negative aspects of metal the media so desperately wants you to believe are true for everybody.
Part II reflects Spheeris’ own sense of not fitting in. Much of her film making career was dedicated to the punk subculture, from the documentary series to Suburbia (1984) and Dudes (1987). But during the lapse in punk’s relevance, there wasn’t much for her to fall back on. So she picked up the role of schoolyard bully and had a go at metal, leaving us with the most infamous chronicle of the genre.



Comments