From ‘Rushmore’ to ‘Dark Angel’: A driving tour of Houston film sites
Years ago while driving across Nebraska, my wife and I came upon a sign for the state’s notable Archway monument and pioneer museum. Having seen the film “About Schmidt” months earlier, we decided to pull over in the middle of a blizzard.
I can’t properly explain the rush found in visiting film sites. They bear none of the data provided by a museum. They just feel familiar, like a pop-cultural reunion with distant relatives. We’ve created our own “Raising Arizona” tour in the Scottsdale area and another in Tacoma, Wash., for “10 Things I Hate About You.”
Though hardly a movie hub, Houston has its share of such sites. Some of those destinations feel like a good driving/walking tour that met with social distancing standards of our current day.
With that, let us start as we have did with our tour of outdoor public art: downtown.
The old Chase Bank drive-thru in the far northwest corner of downtown — hemmed in by Congress to the south, Franklin to the north, between Louisiana and Milam — is no longer a Chase property. Nor is it a bank even though the futuristic terminal still stands, albeit with some wear and tear. That weird structure — which looks more like a space-ship docking station — played prominently in Wim Wenders’ “Paris, Texas.”
One can still scuttle across a little concrete embankment as young Hunter Henderson (Hunter Carson) did, walkietalkie in hand, as part of a mission he and his father, Travis (Harry Dean Stanton), hatched to find a long-lost mother and wife (Nastassja Kinski). For the record, the film’s quiet and contemplative pace isn’t for everybody. But its probing thematic content — about parenthood and domestic abuse — still feels resonant 36 years later.
While cruising downtown, the curious will find other film sites easy to reach. The Page Southerland Page building at 1100 Louisiana featured briefly but prominently in Terrence Malick’s 2011 film “The Tree of Life.” Unlike Sean Penn, you can’t contemplate life and death and forgiveness from inside this tall, striking structure because this is an outdoor tour. But the long lines and large panes of glass can be appreciated from the street to a lesser degree.
Tranquillity Park downtown has found itself in several films. For those who haven’t seen the 1990 flop “I Come in Peace” — which also carried the title “Dark Angel” — I almost recommend a screening before and after a drive downtown.
There’s no succinct way to summarize this brutish beater of a film. Dolph Lundgren plays a Houston police detective (who plays by his own rules!). Brian Benben is his unwanted partner, an FBI agent. They team after a few dapper drug dealers are killed by a sharp spinning thing that looks like a compact disc. The lawmen then find themselves in the middle of an intergalactic battle between two aliens, an intergalactic cop and an intergalactic drug dealer, whose skag is a drug created by extracting chemical goo from the brains of heroin users on Earth.
It like a “Just Say No” PSA, but it is not.
The film is a love letter to Houston, and not just because of the careening shots of chases and pursuits that will have locals hitting the pause button to identify buildings and intersections. It’s testament to the city’s business-first resilience and its unrelenting pursuit of goals. A chase smashes through the Shops at Houston Center. And though some downtown suit shoppers may lament the now absent Brooks Bros., the optimistic among us could take comfort in the fact that this hive of commercial opportunity remains intact 30 years after Lundgren tried to level it. Among the buildings that took a beating was the Houston National Bank, which has since been reborn as the Islamic Da'Wah Center.
Anyone who has driven to Ninfa’s from downtown will recognize a support column for the Navigation overpass, where a cop car crashes. Lundgren saves Benben’s life at Tranquillity Park. The inelegant yet familiar white, metal safety beams there get a little moment of onscreen shine. Some things never change. Even in
Houston.
Tranquillity Park also has a moment in “Reality Bites,” written by Houston native Helen Childress. The best-known shot from Ben Stiller’s 1994 film is the post-grad moment when four old friends celebrate on a rooftop downtown. That view would be difficult to procure anytime, and certainly not during a quarantine. But just west of downtown, the old brick fourplex at 409 W. Clay that served as a residence for these directionless scamps remains, though it has looked better.
Houston’s two bestknown filmmakers have also made use of their hometown in their films. Wes Anderson’s “Rushmore” could prompt a city tour of its own. Doug’s Barbershop at 219 E. 11th is among the bestknown sites, as it featured into multiple scenes in the film and remains as it was nearly 25 years ago.
The Houston stand-ins for the film’s two schools remain intact, though they don’t quite look as they once did. Lamar
High School, 3325 Westheimer, looked better even before getting some bond money than it did when Anderson turned it into the undesirable Grover Cleveland High School.
And the big bronze “RUSHMORE” letters aren’t on the gates of St. John’s School, 2401 Claremont, anymore. But several of its old buildings will look familiar. Other “Rushmore” sites abound but require a bit more driving.
Max Fischer’s home is at 108 Emerald Court, though it has had a bit of work done since the film was made. The house where teacher Rosemary Cross lived is at 1715
North. Like the “Reality Bites” house, both are residences, so be courteous. Worth noting:
“Terms of Endearment” also had some exterior shots from this live-oakrich neighborhood, which is a nice place to walk on its own.
Richard Linklater’s “Boyhood” covers 10 years, so naturally it moves around a fair bit. But he shot several scenes in Houston, though a few sites — such as the inside of Minute Maid Park — aren’t accessible now. But the older Mason (Ethan Hawke) goes through a minor football tutorial with his two kids on the hill at Miller Outdoor Theatre, 6000 Hermann Park Drive. And among some of the accessible, outdoor sites is a shot of the Ezekiel Cullen Building at the University of Houston, where Patricia Arquette’s Olivia decides to go back to school.
There are other farflung sites standing, though they have varying degrees of accessibility. The Kingwood Country Club from “Tin Cup” isn’t really looking for film tourism. “Urban Cowboy” has a few standing sites, but they’re far afield in Pasadena and Deer Park.
Several films include scenes at the Astrodome, most notably “Brewster McCloud,” a fantastical film about a kid hunkering down in the Dome, which has become a fallout shelter. As we find ourselves in remarkable times, maybe debate about the Eighth Wonder’s future should look to Robert Altman’s strange 1970 film.
And though no list can cover all films and sites, I’d be remiss to omit “Terms of Endearment,” which includes some longer drive sites including Lincoln and Galveston. But Shirley Maclaine’s Aurora lived at 3060 Locke, a home that today very much resembles the one in James L. Brooks’ 1983 film.
Unlike other lauded films “Rushmore” and “Boyhood,” “Terms” remains the sole bestpicture winner at the Academy Awards that was shot in Houston. But if you have time for an old film, I can’t overstate the importance of watching “I Come in Peace.” No film has better used Houston as a canvas, even if it may be the worst film ever shot here.