Home Sweet Homer: The Strange Saga of the Real-Life Simpsons House in Nevada

Courtesy of FOX
Courtesy of FOX

At first glance, the two-story stucco house located on Red Bark Lane in Henderson, Nevada, looks very much the same as the neighboring homes located in the South Valley Ranch community. Neutral exterior paint covers the sides and attached garage. A rock garden has been spread over the soil. A cement walkway leads from the driveway to the front door.

Look closer and the irregularities begin to appear. The house has protruding bay windows and a rounded front entryway, which are both unusual for the prefabricated construction on the block. A chimney juts out from the roof, though Nevada residents are rarely in need of a wood-burning fire. Around the garage, some of the light-colored paint is flaking, revealing a cornea-scorching bright orange underneath.

The exterior of the 'Simpsons' replica home as it appears in 2018
Courtesy of Private Owner

Once upon a time, the house on Red Bark Lane wasn’t just another address in a sprawling suburban development: It was originally built as a nearly exact three-dimensional replica of 742 Evergreen Terrace, the Springfield residence of Homer, Marge, Bart, Lisa, and Maggie Simpson. Working on a short schedule, architects and builders de-fictionalized the home featured in The Simpsons for a 1997 giveaway that was intended to leave one lucky fan with the ultimate in cartoon memorabilia. No detail was spared, from a food dish for their cat, Snowball II, to Duff beer cans in the fridge.

But controversy soon erupted in this faux-Springfield mock-up. The homeowner's association wasn’t keen on having a cartoon house that broke conformity requirements by being painted solar yellow. The sweepstakes winner rejected it outright. And the current owner had to learn to live with the property being a source of perpetual curiosity for fans of the show who brazenly turn her doorknobs and peer through her windows at all hours of the day and night. As it turns out, the reality of living in a fantasy can get a little complicated.

 
 

Heading into its 30th season in the fall, The Simpsons is the longest-running primetime scripted series in television history, surpassed in overall longevity only by daytime soaps, Sesame Street, and late-night institutions. Despite criticisms that the show has exhausted its potential, it remains a profitable empire for the Fox network, with no announced end in sight.

In 1997, the show’s future was less certain. Sales of tie-in Simpsons merchandise had fallen off from its high in the early 1990s, where it had raked in roughly $2 billion during a fevered explosion in popularity. Revenue had waned and so had licensee interest: The number of companies producing Simpsons goods dropped by 75 percent. In an attempt to reignite awareness, product merchandisers for the show planned a major rollout for best-of VHS tapes and a CD-ROM titled Virtual Springfield that would allow users to explore the family’s hometown and interact with its regulars.

What the network needed was a promotional vehicle—something to drive interest in both the show and its ancillary products. That idea came not from within Fox, but from an outside marketing expert who saw an opportunity for some corporate synergy. Jeff Charney was responsible for marketing at Kaufman and Broad, a home builder looking to promote both its brand and a new housing development in Henderson, Nevada, about 16 miles southeast of Las Vegas. While brainstorming in the shower, Charney got the idea to erect a replica of the Simpsons' home. He brought it to Kaufman and Broad’s builders, including project manager Mike Woodley. After determining it was feasible, the company pitched it to Fox, who gave their approval to proceed.

A look at the design of the Simpsons' kitchen
Courtesy of FOX

“It was a big deal for Kaufman and Broad because it meant all kinds of exposure,” Woodley tells Mental Floss. "The house itself was a pretty simple box-on-box design with a garage. I think I sketched it out in a day.”

There was some precedent for the stunt. In the 1970s, Kaufman and Broad chairman Bruce Karatz had agreed to build a house on top of Au Printemps, a department store in Paris, with the idea that it would intrigue people enough to visit the store’s upper floors. When they reached the summit, a Kaufman and Broad salesperson was waiting to pitch them on buying one of their homes.

The gimmick was hugely successful for both the builder and Au Printemps—it attracted more than 500,000 visitors in the four months it was open, and cemented the company as one that thought well outside the standard marketing boxes. “Bruce was an innovative guy,” Simpsons house architect Manny Gonzalez tells Mental Floss. “The easiest way to get publicity is to build a special house.”

 
 

Once the project was approved, Woodley and Gonzalez pored over 100 episodes of the show and storyboards on loan from the production to try and discern a layout. “We took a floor plan we already had and did things that still had to meet building code but was reminiscent of The Simpsons,” Gonzalez says. “We never would have put in a rounded door or windows in the spots they were in.”

The team’s goal was to be 90 percent normal, with occasional lapses into cartoon continuity. Door frames were widened and lengthened to accommodate Marge’s hair and Homer’s girth. The stairs leading to the second floor were slightly steeper than normal. The downstairs floor was poured and painted concrete rather than hardwood or carpet, the better to mimic the show’s flat colors. Bart’s treehouse was erected in the backyard.

“We knew someone had to live in it, so the kitchen was a little bigger than it is on the show,” Woodley says. “It had to be a real house.”

A look at the Simpsons' house living room
Courtesy of Rick Floyd

Construction was only part of the illusion. To get that lived-in look, a Hollywood production designer and photographer named Rick Floyd came in and accentuated the home with details that would impress the critical eye of series creator Matt Groening and die-hard fans alike. Floyd hung corn cob-patterned curtains in the kitchen; Bart’s bedroom closet held a row of identical shirts and shorts; mouse holes were painted on the walls near the floor; Lisa’s saxophone leaned against her bed. He even painted an oil stain in the driveway, a nod to Homer’s lack of automotive maintenance. He also flagged down a vehicle he saw while driving and offered the surprised owner $700 for it. Painted purple, it was a perfect match for the Simpsons' iconic wheels.

“We essentially disguised a regular tract home to look like The Simpsons home,” Gonzalez says.

As the house neared completion in August 1997 after just four months of work, local Kaufman and Broad employees sometimes came by for a look. “I drove by it when I was pregnant with twins,” Danielle, then a secretary for the company, tells Mental Floss. “Honestly, I declined to go in, because I wasn’t a fan of the show and it was too hot.”

By this point, Fox and Kaufman and Broad were arranging tours for locals and tourists hoping to catch a glimpse of the interior. Groening came out for an appearance and spray-painted some Bart graffiti on the garage before signing his name in the front path cement. Lines with wait times of more than two hours twisted around the block, and visitors were expected to wear surgical-style booties to avoid tracking in dirt from outside. Surprisingly, there were few attempts at swiping the decor.

“We glued a lot of stuff down,” Gonzalez says.

 
 

Fox kept the home open for tours that fall, all for the purpose of promoting the sweepstakes being advertised via Pepsi products. Buying Mug Root Beer, Brisk Iced Tea, or Slice would net consumers a numbered game piece. If it matched the one broadcast during the fall premiere of the show, they’d be the winner of the replica home, which Kaufman and Broad valued at $150,000. (First-place prize: a one-year supply of Mandarin Orange Slice.)

On September 21, 1997, those in possession of the game piece watched “The City of New York vs. Homer Simpson,” an episode that was later pulled from syndication for a brief period after the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks due to images and references to the World Trade Center. During the broadcast, the winning number was flashed onscreen.

Nothing happened.

A dresser sits in a replica of Lisa Simpson's bedroom
Courtesy of Rick Floyd

Whoever held the winning game piece (number 9786065) never stepped forward to claim their prize. The back-up plan was to choose at random one of the raffle forms that consumers could also submit via mail. In December 1997, it was announced the form chosen belonged to Barbara Howard, a 63-year-old retired factory worker from Richmond, Kentucky. She lived in an area so rural that Fox’s dispatched limo couldn’t get down the dirt road to her home. The network flew her in—her first time on a plane—with her two daughters and grandson. She gambled a little at the casinos and posed for photos with a ceremonial giant key to her new home. She told the press she was still trying to process her good fortune.

That December, with the adrenaline of defying the odds having worn off, Howard came to a decision. She didn’t want the house after all.

“She took the cash,” Gonzalez recalls of the sweepstakes outcome. “You had the choice of either the house or a cash prize, but the cash was substantially less than the value of the house.”

Howard accepted $75,000, which some observers found curious. Why ignore the property value? Why not keep it open for tours? The reasons were simple. Howard lived on an ostrich and tobacco (not tomacco) farm in Kentucky with her husband, was perfectly comfortable there, and had no motivation to relocate. Opening it for tourism was more or less prohibited; the homeowner’s association wanted the orange and yellow exterior repainted as soon as possible. She did briefly broach the possibility of having Kaufman and Broad move the house to her property, but the logistics of that made it implausible.

“I don’t think she was as blown away by it as her daughters were,” Gonzalez says. “I think she felt a little overwhelmed. There were all these photographers and writers. She was just a simple country homemaker.”

 
 

That left the fate of the house to Kaufman and Broad. Having sold over 100 homes in the development—which was eventually renamed Spring Valley Ranch from Springfield Spring Valley Ranch—the property had already served its purpose in marketing exactly as the Au Printemps roof house had two decades prior. “We were the fun home builder instead of the production home builder,” Gonzalez says.

Groening floated the idea of blowing the house up on live television, which seemed unlikely given its residential location. It was repainted in muted colors to appease the homeowner's association. As it sat vacant, Kaufman assigned 24-hour security so no one would ransack its contents. But by the second year, the guards' attention had waned, and people had managed to sneak in and swipe several of the design elements. Glue traces marked where Simpson family “photos” had been pried off the wall. Snowball II’s cat food dish was no more.

Kaufman and Broad considered tearing the house down or retrofitting it to conform to the neighborhood and attract conventional buyers. But the most cost-effective way was to simply sell it, even if it was below market value.

A look inside Bart Simpson's bedroom
Courtesy of FOX

One day in 2001, Danielle—the secretary who had previously shrugged at taking a tour—was browsing their inventory when she came across the address. At first, she didn’t associate it with the cartoon house she drove past four years prior. But the price was right, and she was in the market for a larger home.

“I asked how much, they told me, and so I bought it,” she says. “As is.”

With her husband and two boys, Danielle became the first—and only—occupant of the Simpson house. While the outside had been repainted, the interior was a dizzying palette of primary colors.

“They had put in flooring, but the paint was original, so no two touching walls were the same color,” she says. “The master bedroom had a lavender ceiling, pink moulding, and four different-colored walls. It was like being in a Crayola box.”

Someone had even stolen a tree from the backyard. Several doors that looked like pantry storage opened into a wall. “That was the state it was in,” she says. “People have said, ‘Oh, I would have just left it how it was.’ It would have made me nuts.”

Danielle—who prefers not to use her last name for reasons that will shortly become clear—repainted walls and repaired missing chunks of drywall where looters had pried off portraits. She replaced carpeting, exposing the red floor underneath that her sons wanted to keep exposed. (She declined.) She has to repeatedly remind the tax assessor that the house doesn't really have a fireplace.

Giving the home a makeover hasn’t deterred Simpsons fans from taking a pilgrimage there. Once, a group of drunken college kids were banging on the door, yelling to be let in. Danielle’s sons started chatting with them from the upstairs bedroom window. People will check to see if the door is unlocked. Many snap photos or video, then upload their pilgrimage. Few of them seem to stop and consider the intrusive nature of their sightseeing.

“We’ll be sitting watching a movie and someone will be yanking on the door,” she says. “We’re vigilant about keeping the doors locked.”

A look inside Marge and Homer Simpson's bedroom
Courtesy of FOX

After getting divorced, Danielle refinanced the home and bought out her ex-husband’s equity, leading some internet sleuths to determine the property had somehow sold for $14,000. (It didn’t.) When Danielle remarried in 2014, she told her new husband that kind of scrutiny around the property would be par for the course. “I kind of signed up for it," she says. "It’s not really a big deal. Most people are cool.” Because the family has Ring, the camera-equipped smart doorbell, she sees people come and go. One man came with a giant stuffed animal and sat down with it in front of the house. “That was a weird thing.”

The house also gets mail addressed to the Simpson family, a likely consequence of fans having some harmless fun. “I once got a letter addressed to Homer from the Salvation Army,” she says. “There have been shampoo samples for Marge and a flyer from PetSmart for Santa’s Little Helper.”

 
 

Even though it's gotten a facelift, the home doesn’t often get attention from potential buyers. “I’ve never really had an offer on it,” Danielle says. “People look for certain features, and they see a lack of closet space, no first-floor bathroom … it’s a fun idea but it doesn’t get far.”

The house’s legacy seems to have persisted beyond the giveaway. Kaufman and Broad briefly considered doing a house based on The Grinch Who Stole Christmas; Woodley, who was not a regular viewer of the series, continues to be surprised by the attention The Simpsons receives. “I didn’t realize how big a thing it is for some people. I looked at it as a design challenge. I didn’t think of it in terms of the grandness of it. When people today hear I designed The Simpsons house, it’s like, ‘Really, oh, my God.’”

A look at Maggie Simpson's nursery
Courtesy of FOX

For now, Danielle says she’s very happy in the neighborhood and only occasionally bothered by curious fans. (It’s better if you don’t stare into her windows.) And though she’s still not a huge fan of the show, she does acknowledge the looming yellow shadow she’s elected to live in. “My neighbor’s dad is actually a pastor,” she says. “It’s too easy to go there with a Flanders joke.”

10 Facts About DodgeBall: A True Underdog Story For Its 15th Anniversary

Vince Vaughn stars in Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story (2004).
Vince Vaughn stars in Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story (2004).
Twentieth Century Fox

June 18, 2004 saw the release of two wildly different films in American cinemas: Steven Spielberg’s The Terminal and a goofy, cameo-filled, wrench-chucking sports comedy called DodgeBall: A True Underdog Story. Guess which one came out on top at the box office? The sleeper hit both saluted and skewered the sports movie genre. It also gave Chuck Norris the chance to enjoy a free helicopter ride.

1. Dodgeball's creator was inspired by the book Fast Food Nation.

DodgeBall writer/director Rawson Marshall Thurber considered DodgeBall an homage to some of his favorite flicks, including Revenge of the Nerds (1984), Rocky (1976), and Bull Durham (1988). Another source of inspiration was Eric Schlosser’s Fast Food Nation, the nonfiction bestseller about the modern obsession with greasy, ready-made cuisine. Published in 2001, Fast Food Nation sold more than 1.4 million copies within five years. It also left plenty of fingerprints on Thurber’s script.

"I really took a cue from that—there's an absolute love/fear relationship thing in our culture," Thurber told Film Freak Central in 2014. "We're so weight conscious, so image conscious, so youth-oriented—and wrapped up with all that psychosis are these ad images of it being so cool and all-American and sexy to eat McDonald's and drink pop and all that. It pulls people in all sorts of different directions, so I wanted [Ben Stiller’s character] White Goodman to be sitting there with a doughnut and the car battery attached to his nipples … That situation with food, with sports, with so much of our culture. [It’s] already almost too surreal to satirize."

2. The movie's actors went through some rigorous training.

To ready themselves for the movie, Ben Stiller, Vince Vaughn, and the rest of the actors ran indoor dodgeball drills at what many of them have since described as a “boot camp.” According to Stiller, this basically consisted of “us at a gym a few times a week playing dodgeball.” While that may not sound too intense, the physicality of these sessions took its toll on the performers. “It’s a game for the young,” Stiller said. “It’s one thing when you’re eight, but when you’re 38, it gets really exhausting. After three or four minutes, you’re fried.” Practicing at his side was Stiller’s wife, Christine Taylor, who plays Kate Veatch of the Average Joe’s squad in DodgeBall.

3. Ben Stiller took Christine Taylor down with a dodgeball ... twice.

As a general rule, it’s never a good idea to hit one’s spouse in the face with a rubber ball while playing any sport, but that’s exactly what Stiller did to Christine Taylor—twice. Blow number one came during the boot camp; the second strike occurred while filming the epic Globo Gym/Average Joe’s showdown. The latter ball was intended to strike Vaughn, who reflexively flinched to get out of the way. In any event, Stiller admits that those two incidents put a temporary damper on the couple’s marital harmony “for like a week, because there’s no way to not get upset with somebody after you’ve done that. It just sent us both back to eighth grade." (Though the couple announced that they were divorcing in 2017, the split has never been made official, and the couple is still regularly seen together—sparking rumors of a reconciliation.)

4. Stiller borrowed much of his character's personality from 1995's Heavyweights.

The fact that Stiller borrowed some of White Goodman’s traits from Tony Perkis, the fanatical fat camp owner he played in 1995’s Heavyweights, won’t surprise anyone who has seen both films. DodgeBall’s White Goodman (as played by Stiller) is a bombastic, egomaniacal fitness guru with some inherited wealth and major insecurities. The same description also applies to Perkis. A lighthearted family comedy, Heavyweights didn’t fare well at the box office, grossing a meager $17.6 million. As such, when Stiller copied a few of Perkis’s mannerisms in DodgeBall, he figured that no one would notice.

"I always thought, ‘Well, nobody ever saw Heavyweights, so I can do this,” Stiller recalled. “But a lot of people saw Heavyweights … Apparently, it shows on the Disney Channel a lot or something.” Regarding the two characters, Stiller has said that Perkis is “definitely a first or second cousin” to Goodman.

5. Justin Long suffered a minor concussion on the set.

Justin Long, who plays Justin in the film, took some hard knocks while making this movie. For starters, a prop wrench made with hard rubber left a nasty cut on his eyebrow when Rip Torn, as Patches O’Houlihan, threw it at his face in one scene. Then, while filming another section of DodgeBall’s training montage, the actor was pelted with enough high-speed balls to render him "slightly concussed."

"They didn’t want me to drive home at the end of the day because I was a little off," Long told Today in 2017. “So next time you’re watching that and laughing, know that you’re laughing at my pain.” Still, the experience wasn’t all bad. According to New York Magazine, Long can often be seen riding a scooter adorned with the words “Average Joe’s,” a gift from Stiller.

6. Hank Azaria and Rip Torn didn't even try to synchronize their Patches O'Houlihan voices.

Early in the film, we get to watch an instructional video about dodgeball (and social Darwinism) hosted by a young Patches O’Houlihan, who is played by Hank Azaria. For the remainder of the film, however, it’s Rip Torn who portrays the seven-time ADAA all-star. You may have noticed that the two actors use very different accents in their respective scenes: Azaria, who joined the cast at Stiller’s invitation, called his performance “essentially a bad Clark Gable impression.” At the time, Torn’s sequences hadn’t been shot yet, leading someone in the crew to pipe up and say “You know, it’d be funny if Rip tries to emulate that voice!” “I was like, ‘Yeah, good luck walking up to Rip Torn and suggesting that he change his vocal quality in any way. Let me know how that goes for you,’” Azaria replied.

7. The Average Joe's team colors are an homage to Hoosiers.

Thurber, a fan of David Anspaugh’s Oscar-nominated Hoosiers (1986), tipped his hat to the Hickory Huskers’ red and yellow uniforms by giving the Average Joe’s squad—led by Vince Vaughn’s Pete LaFleur—an almost identical color scheme. 

8. Chuck Norris was reluctant to make a cameo.

The action star’s only scene was shot in Long Beach, California. Geographically speaking, this was problematic for Norris. “I was in L.A. when they asked me to do the cameo,” Norris told Empire Magazine. “I said no at first because it was a three-hour drive to Long Beach.” Hearing this, Stiller called Norris and begged him to reconsider. “He goes, ‘Chuck, please, you’ve got to do this for me!’” Norris recalled, “My wife said he should send a helicopter for me and that's what happened. I didn't read the screenplay, just did my bit where I stick my thumb up.”

After post-production on DodgeBall wrapped and Norris got around to seeing the finished product, he found himself enjoying most of it. However, there was one little moment in the final credits that really caught him off-guard. “In the end, when Ben’s a big fatty and watching TV, the last line of the whole movie is, 'F***ing Chuck Norris!' My mouth fell open ... I said, 'Holy mackerel!' That was a shock, Ben didn't tell me about that!"

9. One villain was originally supposed to be a robot.

By far the most mysterious player in the Purple Cobras lineup is Fran Stalinovskovichdavidovitchsky, an Eastern European all-star whom Goodman calls “The deadliest woman on earth with a dodgeball.” What’s the secret to her success? Well, in an early version of the screenplay, it’s revealed that Fran is actually a robot in disguise. Thurber ended up dropping the gag, which he considered too ridiculous—even by DodgeBall’s standards. However, when Missi Pyle was cast as Fran, the big twist hadn’t yet been cut.

“Initially, in the first script I read, she was a robot, like a sexy-bodied robot” Pyle explained. The original plan was to slowly pan the camera up over a partly-exposed Robo-Fran—with her metallic face and fake breasts on full display—at some point in the climax.

10. Alan Tudyk weighed in on a fan theory about Steve the Pirate.

In 2012, Redditor Maized made the case Steve the Pirate, Alan Tudyk’s swashbuckling oddball, is actually an “ex-Navy sailor who suffers from PTSD.” As evidence, Maized cited Steve’s tattoos, which bear a striking resemblance to those frequently worn by U.S. Naval recruits. In theory, the Average Joe’s patron uses his pirate persona to cope with his condition.

During a 2016 interview with Screen Crush, Tudyk was asked to offer his thoughts on the theory. With a chuckle, Tudyk replied that it “doesn’t seem like it’s impossible.” Emphasizing that he didn’t wish to “insult Navy sailors who have PTSD,” the actor said he’d consider taking the Redditor’s idea into account if a DodgeBall sequel is ever made.

Game of Thrones Director Said He Wanted to 'Kill Everyone' During the Battle of Winterfell

Iain Glen and Emilia Clarke in Game of Thrones.
Iain Glen and Emilia Clarke in Game of Thrones.
Helen Sloan, HBO

Now that Game of Thrones is over, it’s time to talk about the nitty-gritty of the episodes, particularly “The Long Night.” While the Battle of Winterfell may have been nerve-wracking to watch, there ended up being surprisingly fewer deaths than fans expected, considering the living were fighting the entire army of the dead.

Miguel Sapochnik, who directed the episode, was no beginner with battle scenes before taking on “The Long Night,” as he was also responsible season 6's iconic “The Battle of the Bastards” as well as the memorable season 5 episode “Hardhome.” While his list of Game of Thrones accomplishments is long, it turns out that Sapochnik's choices haven't always been in line with what showrunners David Benioff and D.B. Weiss want.

According to IndieWire, Sapochnik’s aesthetic choices, such as the decision to shoot shoot Cersei and Tommen shadowed by prison-like bars to represent Tommen’s imprisonment in season 5, were not favored by the showrunners. “[Benioff and Weiss] said [it was] ‘so self-conscious and we hate it basically,'” Sapochnik revealed at the time. Because of disagreements like this, the pair “visually policed” the director.

There was a difference of opinion between the director and the creators again for “The Long Night,” Sapochnik revealed on IndieWire's Filmmaker's Toolkit podcast. “I wanted to kill everyone,” the director said, as reported by Esquire. “I wanted to kill Jorah in the horse charge at the beginning. I wanted it to be ruthless, so in the first 10 minutes you could say all bets are off, anyone could die. But David and Dan didn’t want to. There was a lot of back-and-forth on that."

Ultimately, Sapochnik gave in to Benioff and Weiss’s plan for the episode, and the Battle of Winterfell had far fewer casualties than most of the series's other battle scenes.

[h/t Esquire]

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