SELLER: Scott Caan
LOCATION: Los Angeles, CA
SIZE: 2,794 square feet, 5 bedrooms, 4 bathrooms
YOUR MAMAS NOTES: Scott Caan, a diminutive dynamo, a muscled up piece of hirsute beefcake who displays the same sort of butch swagger and macho manliness as his famous father–the iconic and Oscar nominated actor James Caan–recently hoisted his Los Angeles compound on the market with an asking price of $2,075,000.
Little did Your Mama know, but Mister Caan the Younger is a bit of a entertainment bidness Renaissance man. He acts in both tee-vee and film, he writes and produces movies and he even writes plays. He's most recognized, perhaps, for his recurring role in the Ocean's... (11,12 and 13) franchise as well as his shirtless turn in Into the Blue and for busting out his twigs and berries in Varsity Blues. The unafraid to be filmed stark nekkid actor currently appears as a regular on Entourage, can be seen in Mercy, a film he wrote, produced and co-stars with his famous father, and he recently booked the role of Detective Danny "Book 'em Dano" Williams in the upcoming boob-toob remake of Hawaii Five-O. So he's bizzy.
Property records show the itty-bitty but robustly built Mister Caan purchased his compound, located in the famed and fabled Laurel Canyon, in October of 2006 for $1,925,000. A peep and a poke around the property records reveals that Mister Caan the Younger's tree shaded compound consists of four or maybe five tax parcels on a quiet, dead end lane. Listing information also shows that the compound includes a 2,794 square foot main house with 3 bedrooms and 3 poopers and a two-story guesthouse with another bedroom and pooper.
Oh, children, there is little Your Mama loves more than a guest house because, let's be honest poodles, no one needs to be subjected to the farting and fornicating sounds of house guests. Of course, not everyone has gassy house guests like Your Mama's friends Fiona Trambeau and Falsetta Knockers who both have a uncontrollable tendency to drag sexy but questionable men home at all hours of the night from heaven only knows where. Had Your Mama and the Dr. Cooter a guest house in which to stash those two lascivious Loosy Goosies we'd be better off for it and wouldn't have to lock up the silver when they come to town.
Anyhoo, Mister Caan the Younger's main house, all did up and done over in a spare and masculine manner, was originally built in 1916 according to tax records and was later expanded by well known architect Lloyd Wright. That would be the son of Frank, natch. It's kind of interesting that the expansion was done by the less famous but still accomplished son of an iconic architect and the house has been occupied the last number of years by the actor/writer/producer scion of a Hollywood icon.
Whomever is responsible for the day-core–and Your Mama sort of doubts it's Mister Caan the Younger–managed to craft interior spaces that are both vigorous and unmistakably masculine without falling ass backwards into an upsetting and cliché caricature of what some nice, gay decorators think of as "manly" day-core. Also notable, at least as far as Your Mama is concerned, is the fruitful and well balanced alliance between the cottage's classic original details and more modern bits and pieces such as the asymmetrical and flat faced fireplace surround in the large–if low ceilinged–living room. The living room encapsulates the decorative style and well considered restraint seen in the rest of the house and includes a creamy colored and clean lined sofa, a couple of well worn leather director's chairs and a couple of low slung loungers covered in a patchwork pattern of what appears to be buttery soft vintage leather. We could do without the flat screen tee-vee mounted above the fireplace but this is the home of a young, single and virile man so perhaps that's just splitting hairs in an otherwise well conceived and uncluttered space.
The formal dining room, lined on opposite walls with a series of French doors that open to intimate flagstone terraces, displays the same kind of measured and mixy-matchy merger between the old–the paneled walls, the antique chandelier, and the built in glass fronted cabinets that flank the fireplace–and the new–the glossy and nearly minimalist wood topped table, the geometric dhurrie rug, and the floor to ceiling concrete fireplace surround. In a pushing the envelope of decorative hyperbole, Mister Caan–or whomever he hired to do up his digs–has hung the head of a dead deer above the fireplace. Your Mama finds it uncomfortable to look a dead animal in the eyeballs while trying to enjoy a nice piece of steak in the dining room. But, all things considered, the dead head works from the decorative point of view expressed here.
Mister Caan the Younger's bedroom again displays an authoritative and seamless syncopation of original details such as the full height cabinet doors and the Craftsman style windows, and modern affects such as the stainless steel–or maybe it's aluminum–chest of drawers and the built in shelving where Mister Caan the Younger displays a couple of black and white photographs and a collection of vintage cameras. In the pooper–we think it's the master pooper that's pictured–a vintage pedestal sink and black and white checkerboard tile floor coexists in a taut and delicious harmony with the more modern circular mirror and subway tile lined shower cubby enclosed with a new-fangled frameless door.
Listing information indicates there is off-street parking for 6 cars and additional garage parking for 2 more cars and somewhere in the house, according to listing information, there is a "secret passage." Your Mama hasn't any idea what purpose this passage serves, where it's located or to where it leads. Perhaps it goes to a panic room? Or maybe to a cave were booze was stored during prohibition? Or maybe it's just where all the hippies, rockers and entertainment types did psychedelic drugs in the 1960s and 70s. Whatever the case, who doesn't love a secret passage? Lo-ward knows Your Mama and the Dr. Cooter would l.o.v.e. to have a secret passage in which to hide when our temperamental house gurl Svetlana goes on one her frequent rampages.
The expansive grounds include tons of mature trees and thick foliage, some sort of playhouse/yoga shack/treehouse structure up on the hills side and at the lower end of the property, down a long, long, long flight of stairs is a tree and shrubbery surrounded swimming pool and sundeck. We're smitten with the sort of privacy this swimming pool area provides nood sunbathers, but we are more than a little concerned about what happens when Your Mama or the usually butt-nekkid Falsetta Knockers is lounging poolside and are in need of a stiff gin & tonic or a terlit. It's an awfully long way to huff and puff back up all those stairs for a cocktail and iffin any of the children think that our house gurl Svetlana would take kindly to having to haul her ass up and down those stairs every damn time Your Mama was thirsty or needed a bed pan, y'all got another thing coming. Just the mere mention of such a thing could toss ol' Sveta into a 145 decibel hissy fit and have Your Mama and the Dr. Cooter running for that secret passage.
It's unclear why Mister Caan the Younger–who it would appear is making plenty of cash–would want to vacate his compound in Laurel Canyon. But he does and who are we, really, to question the real estate ways of the rich and famous? However, we'd be remiss if we did not at least acknowledge Mister Caan the Younger and his real estate agent's rather wise pricing of the property...well under 10% more than he paid for the place at the height of the market. The market is still a bit droopy so only time will tell if he'll get a good number or if he'll have to take a loss, but at least he doesn't have his real estate pie in the sky like so many other rich and famous folks, you know?