
Nic Cage’s mansion in Bel Air was recently foreclosed on when it turned out that dinosaur skulls and albino king cobras actually don’t appreciate in value as much as was previously thought. Sadly for the lenders (and who doesn’t feel bad for the poor, downtrodden lender these days), the house also failed to sell at auction. Probably because it was just misunderstood, like Cage’s performance in Wicker Man.
After a rapid-fire spiel by the auctioneer, the bidding was opened at $10.4 million, far less than the $35 million that Cage had tried unsuccessfully to sell the house for.
The Bel-Air manse, at 11,817 square feet, has a central tower, custom wine cellar, 35-seat home theater, six bedrooms, nine bathrooms and an Olympic-size pool.
To put it mildly, the house, though impressive, was not to everyone’s taste. Real estate agent Bret Parsons, who toured it most recently in October, described the interiors as “fascinating and bizarre.”“The design was ‘frat house bordello,’ ” Parsons said. “There must have been 300 comic book covers elaborately framed and hanging on the walls.”
BYSTANDER WITH 1920s MOVIE ACCENT: 300 comic books? Ya don’t say. Why, the fella who lived heah befawh musta been some kinda comic book freak, eh Chahlie? *bites cigar*
NIC CAGE: Haha, comic book super freak, actually. *awkward laugh, sucks saliva through teeth, names son Superman*
[Via LA Times, a couple more pictures there - Thanks to MaxwellDemon for the tip. What, didn't get that super freak reference?]





The outhouse with all the balled up, sticky TP on the floor was Cage’s “Fortress of Solitude”.
I’ve got $15 to donate if we’re looking to move the Filmdrunk operations out of this boiler room.
“I’m going to take my PLACE…OFF! (….the market)”
Also came with a custom Kato Kaelin in the guest quarters.
Judging by the decor it looks like Nic Cage hired the guy Christopher and Paulie Walnuts tried to bury in the woods.
Didn’t help the sales attempts when Nolte kept showing up to the open houses and eating all the cookies. “Showing up” = rolling off the purple couch at 2pm screaming “Quit trying to eat me, Grimace. I thought we were friends!”
Weston Coppola hates his dad’s selection of chandeliers, stating that they don’t bring enough darkness and despair into the house to properly echo that which is in his cold, black heart.
I lost my hand! I lost my girl! I can’t sell my fucking whorehouse!
Zach Galifiniakis lives in the Chad Fart House bordello next door.
I hope BYSTANDER WITH 1920s MOVIE ACCENT is here to stay.
Yeah, he’s got moxy.
I hear the voice-activated controls in the house only work if you speak needlessly breathy and change up your tempo constantly.
I couldn’t really think of 300 comic book covers I’d like on my wall. Probably Captain America punching Hitler, any of the Marvel Zombies ones (especially the Army Of Darkness crossover), and pretty much anything by Jack Kirby, Alex Ross, or Steve Ditko.
elJ, Watchmen or GTFO!