When the nightclub Studio One first opened its doors in 1974, West Hollywood was already known as a hot spot for the gay community. But, 50 years ago, many of our spaces still felt like secrets, kept behind closed doors—and they were certainly the last places you’d expect to run into an A-list celebrity.
Studio One changed everything. Suddenly, there was a destination where you weren’t ashamed to be seen waiting in line outside the door. Where you could mix and mingle with the biggest names in Hollywood. Where gay men could dance without a care, living and loving freely. At least for the night.
Both a shimmering time capsule and an urgent reminder that our freedoms are fragile, the documentary Studio One Forever takes viewers within the walls of the iconic venue, reliving its glory days and highlighting it as a symbol for our community’s resilience—a spirit that will linger long after its gone.
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Upon learning that the building that once housed Studio One was on the verge of being demolished, filmmaker Marc Saltarelli set out to tell its story—and possibly help save it. To do so, he assembled an incredible array of subjects whose lives have been forever changed by the nightclub and its adjoining cabaret dinner club The Backlot.
From former employees, to patrons, to performers who graced its stage (including Thelma Houston and the late Chita Rivera), everyone has their story to tell about Studio One, and together they offer a kaleidoscopic view of a time and a place that represented great change for the LGBTQ+ community, which should resonate for future generations to come.
Years in the making, Studio One Forever is now available through most major digital platforms, and to celebrate, Queerty sat down for a conversation with Saltarelli to hear about his own personal history with the nightclub, and to learn how he assembled many lifetimes worth of stories into a tribute to a true landmark for the queer community.
Check out this Queerty exclusive clip—featuring footage from the 2019 Studio One reunion—and then read our interview with director Marc Saltarelli below:
Marc, you’ve previously shared that you were a newly out Midwestern transplant in the early ‘80s when you had first experienced Studio One for yourself. What do you remember hearing about it at the time? What convinced you to go?
I came out in Illinois, at the University of Illinois, and moved out here to go to film school—I couldn’t get into USC, but I went to Loyola Marymount, which is an amazing film school. I lived out by the airport, which is where Loyola is, and I managed to get some “gay rags” back then—you know, there were no cell phones. But, really, if you lived anywhere around LA—or even the world—and you were gay, you knew about Studio One. It was the place to go!
So, on weekends, I would go from this Catholic school to West Hollywood and experience it for myself. I was pretty shy back then, so I was more of a spectator—I didn’t, like, rip my shirt off and start dancing with the group, but it was everything a young boy from the sticks could imagine. It was like nirvana for gay men!
I don’t think there’s ever been a bigger disco, at least I’ve never been to one. It was huge! It was in an old factory where they actually built the cameras for The Wizard Of Oz, and it has its own history, and it was just transformed. One thousand people, sweaty, dancing every night. I was in heaven.
I think a lot of people can probably relate to that exciting yet overwhelming feeling of stepping into a gay bar or club for the first time, but I understand this was on a different scale, of sorts—I mean, the sheer size of this place!
And the difference, I guess, is in the early to mid ’80s, people were still really in the closet. I mean, things were starting to change, but you couldn’t really fully be yourself. I certainly was still [dealing with] internalized homophobia. So what Studio One provided, especially for people who went there in the ’70s, was a place where you could literally be yourself without fear.
Back then, there was rampant homophobia. You could risk your life, literally. Before Studio One opened, all of the bars in West Hollywood were pretty much undercover, underground—they would have a back entrance and you’d sneak in. But with Studio One, you had to stand in line to go up the stairs, and it was kind of brave! People knew that if you could make it up there and be allowed in, that you would have this safe place. But, while people were standing in line, often there would be bottles thrown at them, yelling f*ggot, or whatever. It was a brave thing to do, but it was sort of the beginning of people saying, “I’m here, this is me, and I’m willing to take the slings and arrows that come with that.” Because of that bravery, we have what we have today. But unfortunately, we’re on the verge of losing it all again.
It took four years to get this [film funded] and out to the world; we started in November of 2019. I had no idea it would take this long, but I’m really happy that it’s coming out in this moment, this really critical moment where not only LGBTQ+ rights are on the line, but everybody’s rights. We know that the Supreme Court is ready to destroy gay marriage, and god knows what else. So the movie is all about freedom and how precious it is, and how fragile it is. And that’s what I hope people can watch it, especially the younger generation, who are living the fruits of our generation’s struggle.
Within the film, someone mentions, “San Francisco was the birthplace of the gay liberation movement, NYC had Stonewall, but that LA never really gets its due,” in terms of the broader story of gay history. Why do you think that is?
That’s a really good question, and I have no idea why. But, for me, the way the project developed, my friend Clifford Bell introduced me to Lloyd Coleman and Gary Steinberg, who are in the film. They were producers of The Backlot back in the ’80s, and they were planning this reunion event, which I always knew would be the third act of the film.
So I started doing the research when the building was on the verge of being demolished for this new multi-million dollar development. Two women, Kate Eggert and Krisy Gosney, started the Save The Factory campaign and made everybody aware of what was happening. And they interviewed a lot of the people that I would go on to interview. They posted this 30 page document with the interviews, and developed some sort of a historical preservation status. When I read it, it was like, “you know, I was around in the ’80s, but I had no idea what happened in the ’70s!”
It just kind of fell out of people’s perceptions—maybe because of the AIDS crisis, some people maybe wanted to forget about those times. And, as a filmmaker, to actually find a story that hasn’t been told—at least not in this way—is really remarkable. I’m just proud that I’ve been able to take the mantle of this story. People at festivals all over the place, they’re really moved—you need tissues!—but they thank me, and it’s just so gratifying to see what this means to so many people. And I take that really seriously.
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Absolutely. This is still living history for so many people who experienced Studio One over the decades. And there’s a glimmer of hope here, even if the building has been demolished—
Well, has it been “demolished”?
Ah, exactly! Not necessarily…
We can save that surprise for the film.
No, but even if they don’t keep their promises, what’s important is we save these memories from what I consider the lost generation. You know, so many gay men died, and the people who are here to tell the story—it’s all in there, and they’ll go on forever.
Studio One really is brought to life by all of these fantastic stories and anecdotes you capture in the film, as told by so many people who worked there and visited back in the day. Were there any shared memories that completely took you by surprise?
I have to say, Michael Koth, the front bartender, is the heart of our film—thanks to [former WeHo mayor] John Duran for connecting me with him. I mean, he was a star, and he knew all his stars—he was the first face that you would see when you entered. And he’s not only beautiful, still, outside, but inside as well. And his honesty and his willingness to share—his personal story—I think so many people can relate, on some level, to that. It’s a story of addiction, of battling addiction, and the reason why addiction went off the charts during the ’80s is because you were trying to escape from the nightmare that was AIDS. Everybody was literally dropping, and nobody knew what was going on. When I started filming his story, he was one of the first interviews that we filmed in the building before it was taken apart—that’s when I knew just how special this film was going to be.
And then we also interviewed Melissa Rivers, whose mother, Joan Rivers, was thrilled to have the opportunity to kind of set the record straight [on AIDS at the time.] We all know and love what Elizabeth Taylor did for the AIDS movement—encouraging all of her celebrity friends to drop their homophobia and fear and start coming out. But Joan was the first, and she did it despite having death threats. She hosted the very first AIDS APLA Benefit with Charles Nelson Reilly and Sylvester, and they all had death threats. They had bomb threats. And Joan wanted Melissa and her husband Edgar to be there with her—she said, “if the building is going to get blown up, at least we’ll all go down together.” That kind of bravery for her gay friends when they were in need, having no fear—it is really remarkable. And she was never honored by an LA AIDS organization in her life, so I’m proud of that as well, that we can set that record straight.
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The flip-side of that question then is: Studio One has had its fair share of larger-than-life tales and rumors over the years—were there any you were surprised to find weren’t true while bringing this film together?
Oh, there are plenty of those. Well, one thing is the the “no open-toed shoes” policy that had become infamous. You know, Studio One was opened in the ’70s by Scott Forbes, who was an optometrist who wanted to open this gay disco. He was quite a character—he’d wear the tight leather pants. He wanted to be a star himself, and loved to hang out with the stars. But his vision was a disco for white gay men, period. That meant no people of color and no women. And, in the early days, that’s what he tried to make happen, and he came up with the “no open-toed shoes” policy, which some people said it was because people got their toes cut on the dance floor. But his longtime associate, who actually lived with him, Carol Taylor, confirmed no—it was the reason the club was successful at the time,
You know, things changed. It was a different era. There were protests, there were boycotts of the place in the ’70s, and by the time the ’80s rolled around, they released those restrictions, and women and people of color were able to go in. I don’t know if that makes Scott Forbes a racist—I don’t think so. I think he was a businessman and the times were different, so maybe we should cut him a little bit of slack. Looking at a different time period through our lens today is not always necessarily fair. But what he did do by creating this is pretty remarkable, and it gave a lot of gay men a place maybe for the first time where they could be themselves.
And it is so important that you include those conversations in the documentary, the uglier side of things—we have to be willing to tell the full story, authentically and openly, to be able to learn and grow from it.
Palm Springs Film Festival in January was—obviously Palm Springs is our biggest fan base right there. We won the Audience Award, had three screenings then added a fourth and it was amazing. But during the Q&A, a guy in the audience said, “I’m Scott Forbes’ nephew,” and I freaked out. But he said Scott would be so proud, and that made me feel good. Most people who knew him feel that he would be proud—he’sgetting his stardom again. [Laughs.]
As a final note, a hypothetical: where do you think the LGBTQ+ community—particularly the gay scene in greater Los Angeles—would be without Studio One?
Wow. Well, probably somebody else might have taken that mantle. It wasn’t the absolute first, but it was one of the first places where gay men could go and be themselves. And, not only that, but The Backlot was this incredible club that mixed the Hollywood community—these legendary Hollywood people—with the gay community. It was the first kind of mixing of worlds, and when people know “the other,” then they’re not “the other” anymore, there’s compassion and understanding. And I think that really helped make the beginning of that change of perception of who we are, who we were.
Studio One Forever is now available to stream through most major digital VOD platforms.
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