Style Can Upstage Substance in Hollywood Secession

When it comes to winning at the polls, Hollywood secessionists could have a tough road ahead. But for pure street theater, their campaign may just be unbeatable.

Hollywood and San Fernando Valley secession advocates share many campaign issues, but the style of the Hollywood campaign is undeniably flashier.

The movement’s moneybags, a millionaire nightclub owner who wants to be Hollywood’s mayor, is plastering his image on everything from water bottles to a 20-foot billboard truck that roams day after day around the city.

He also has printed up black T-shirts featuring a Warhol-esque red, yellow and blue triptych of his photo, framed by the words, “Gene La Pietra for Hollywood City Council, a colorful candidate for colorful times.”

On a Web site, billboard queen Angelyne now poses sex-kittenishly as a candidate for Hollywood mayor.

Billy Tsangares, a Los Feliz T-shirt shop owner who started the “Free Winona” campaign after actress Winona Rider was arrested on suspicion of shoplifting, has offered himself up as a candidate for Hollywood City Council, handing out news releases printed on canvas, with George Washington’s image and the words, “Cityhood is American.”

Hollywood secession even has a rock video, in which a band, Fleur de Lis, poses in front of the Hollywood sign and belts out the campaign’s anthem: “Hey, L.A., Set Hollywood Free.”

Voters all over Los Angeles will decide on Nov. 5 whether to let Hollywood and the Valley secede. An independent Hollywood would cover 15 square miles, have a population of about 185,000 and be run by five at-large City Council members who would choose a mayor from within their ranks.

Hollywood secession campaign organizers know how to draw attention.

Each day, paid workers stand at busy intersections during rush hour, holding large “Free Hollywood” signs and cutouts of American icons, from Elvis Presley to Marilyn Monroe.

They also know how to draw crowds.

Council candidates are appearing en masse at events, campaigning together for Hollywood independence, without which there won’t be a Hollywood City Council.

Most afternoons, candidates and volunteers head to the top of Runyon Canyon, a local hiking trail popular with dog owners, with buckets of biscuits for the dogs and La Pietra’s personalized water bottles for the owners. The original water bottle labels are covered by stickers, which feature a photo of La Pietra crouched with his arms around his three dogs. A caption reads, “Gene with Max, Bella & Bommer.”

Anti-secessionists aren’t amused by La Pietra. Some view him as a would-be dictator, trying to stage a hostile takeover of their neighborhood.

“I don’t want to live in Gene La Pietra’s Hollywood,” said Hollywood bookstore owner Susan Polifronio through gritted teeth, as she stood at a recent political event on Cahuenga Boulevard holding an “I Love Los Angeles” sign.

La Pietra seems to bask in the attention, whether it’s positive or negative.

Last week he organized a $28,500 “Hollywood for Cityhood Kick-Off Celebration” at his Arena Cafe nightclub on Hollywood Boulevard. Full-page newspaper ads touted live entertainment, food, open bar and speakers, at no charge.

Outside the club, beside neat stacks of free lawn signs, a dozen candidates formed a receiving line, reaching out to shake the hands of each new arrival.

At the front, La Pietra crooned, “Heaven, I’m in heaven, when I see so many people lining up.... “

Hundreds came, including many genuine secession supporters. The line for the free hamburgers, hot dogs, and Thai, Armenian and Mexican dishes snaked around corners. Guests happily donned the stars-and-stripes top hats handed out at a booth inside. They gazed at 8-foot-tall, 4-foot-wide posters of Hollywood candidates along the high walls of the club’s main room.

Most stuck around after chowing down, waiting for the main event, La Pietra’s grand entrance. The lights dimmed, a smoke machine churned out fog and green lasers fanned out overhead. “Hail to the Chief” boomed from the speakers and La Pietra strode onto the stage. With a large American flag unfurling behind him, he raised his arms in a Nixon-style V.

“We’re there!” he shouted. “We’re there! Isn’t this the most exciting?”

Then he called out the names of about a dozen other Hollywood City Council candidates, who jogged onto the stage like players running onto a field, delivering short, pep rally-type speeches.

“The opposition tells us we’re not smart enough to have our own city. We say we are!” called out Garry Sininian, as fellow Armenian Americans in the crowd cheered.

“I know we can do it. You know we can do it,” pitched young movie director Tad Davis. “Let’s set Hollywood free.”

As strobe lights and laser beams lit the disco floor, gallons of rainbow confetti and hundreds of red, white and blue balloons dropped from the ceiling.

Mariachi singer Alejandro Lopez, La Pietra’s partner, took to the stage with his group, Azteca, and sang:

“Viva Hollywood. I love Hollywood.

“Viva Gene La Pietra, mayor of Hollywood.

“I love Gene La Pietra, mayor of Hollywood.”

While there’s no shortage of theater, getting the votes remains the challenge.

After La Pietra’s presidential-style entry, he said, “There’s a story in the Bible: 40 days and 40 nights and then there was a miracle.

“We have 40 days. Let’s get cracking.”