The Royal Tenenbaums House, New York

Posted on
Jan 24, 2012

On Halloween day, I headed to the Tribeca firestation made famous in Ghostbusters. That night, I channeled Margot Tennenbaum on the streets of midtown, eating stick after stick of candy cigarettes.

The next day, I realized I wasn’t yet done paying pilgrimage to movie locations or obsessing over Wes Anderson.

And so, on the first day of November, which was bright and clear and curiously warm, I left our hotel with a specific goal in mind: I was going to see the house on Archer Ave that Royal Tenenbaum bought in the winter of his thirty-fifth year.

The Royal Tenenbaums was the first movie I even saw in the theater with the boy I later married. I don’t know if that is part of the reason I can’t watch it without my heart hurting, without sighing longingly and thinking that life is beautiful and hilarious, even when it’s sad.

It might be something more – like the fact that my father has always sort of reminded me of Gene Hackman. That in a few early scenes of the film, Anjelica Huston‘s character speaks Italian. That weeks after it came out my brother called me and the first words out of his mouth were not “Hello” or “How are you?” but, “Have you seen The Royal Tenenbaums?” 

If you are unfamiliar with the film, please take a minute (or 109 minutes, to be exact) to watch it. I’ll wait. Really. (Seriously, go. This post will be waiting for you when you get back).

There. Good, yes? Your life is changed, isn’t it? Yes. I know.

Though Archer Avenue itself is fictional, the house that Wes Anderson used in The Royal Tenenbaums is not (his draw to the building was so strong, it actually influenced parts of the story). It stands on the corner of West 144th and Covent Ave in Harlem.

Harlem. Prior to that November day, I’d never been further than 112th street. I knew nothing of Harlem besides its eponymous globetrotters, and the fact that my husband’s mother had grown up there.

I looked at my map. Harlem sat at the very top, threatening to fall of the edge. I decided to take the 3 train. This was a mistake. The A, B, C, or D will place you around the corner from the house. The 3 will drop you off three-quarters of a mile away. But I’ve never been one to have much direction, in travel or in life, and it was a beautiful day. I stepped off the subway, learned of my mistake, and began trekking across a portion of Manhattan that I never knew existed.

It was like time had become undone. It may have been the 70s, the 80s, the 90s or now. Or perhaps all of those things at once.

I crossed Malcolm X Avenue. I saw old churches made of stone and small, family-run restaurants with neon signs. I listed to men laughing loudly inside a barber shop, their chatter bouncing off the walls and onto the street. Everyone I saw was on their way somewhere. There were no tourists in this part of town, save for me.

And I, too, was on my way somewhere.

The sun lit up old, graffitied buildings, forever cementing the impression in my mind that Harlem is bright and beautiful.

The house is in a wealthy little enclave called Hamilton Heights. It’s beautiful and somewhat disorienting, not just because you feel like you stepped onto a movie set, or because you need to remind yourself that this is, in fact, still Manhattan, but also because all the houses look like they could be the one where Richie, Chas, and Margot grew up.

Like this one, which sat across the street from my destination, and also had the telltale spire:

Or this one, which was just down the road.


Or even the church across the street.

But I’d seen the movie enough times. I knew the spire I was looking for. The wrought-iron fence out front, the stairs Eli crashed into. The rooftop on which Margot and Richie shared an ancient cigarette. I knew it when I saw it, as if there had been tiny dalmatian mice hiding in the corners.

It’s a beautiful house. I only saw it from the outside, but still, it was lovely.

I spent far too much time capitivated by everything.

The leaves on the cement banister.

The three stories of windows, out of which each of three Tenenbaum children stared.

The scrolling metalwork on the fence out front.

I went knowing I couldn’t go in. The house is a private residence, a discovery which caused me the same mixture of envy and pain that I get when I pass my childhood home here in Seattle. You simply hope that the current inhabitants who live there know how truly lucky they are. That they wake up every morning and think, “This is the greatest house in the world.”

And then you dream, quietly, of the day when your writing career will take off (because it is your dream, after all) and you are able to buy it. And every morning after, you’d open your eyes and sigh wistfully and think, “This is the greatest house in the world.”

But back in this reality, you have to say goodbye to the house and return to midtown.

As I walked through Harlem again, this time to a nearer subway stop, I began to wax poetic (the way one only can when they are wandering through uncharted parts of New York alone). I thought about how life isn’t a straight comedy or tragedy – how it’s all those things in one, and it leaves you wanting to laugh and cry at more or less the same time. It’s not unlike how I feel after watching a Wes Anderson movie. And perhaps that’s why he resonates so well with me.

And why I trekked all the way to Harlem. Just to look at a house, and only from the outside.


The Essentials on the Tenenbaums House (West 144th and Covent Ave, Harlem):

  • Verdict: Yes. If you saw the movie (and consequently loved it, because, really, HOW COULD YOU NOT?) it’s worth a visit. If you haven’t seen the movie, why didn’t you do so when I told you to 18 paragraphs ago?
  • How to Get There: This should be easy for most people. You hop on the A, B, C, or D, and it will graciously drop you off around the corner. I’m just kind of an idiot.
  • Ideal for: Wes Anderson fans; folks who have spent too much damn time in New York and have started roaming aimlessly into seldom-trekked sections of the city.
  • Insider Tips: The house is a private residence, so banging on the front door while screaming, “I ALWAYS WANTED TO BE A TENENBAUM!” is ill-advised. True fans will also want to check out other filming locations from the movie.
  • Good for Kids: Dear lord, no. The Tenenbaum house is not appropriate for children.

Leave a Comment

  • Bhavya

    Maybe this will give you an idea of how the house looks on the inside 😛

  • How fun. I lived in NYC for a couple years, and despite working in Jersey the first summer and taking the subway all the way up to the 180s daily, I’ve never actually roamed the streets north of 105.

  • COOL! Okay New York just moved up on my list of places to go just so that I can see the Tenenbaum house!

  • Janet T

    With the exception of Rushmore, I’ve never been much of a fan. Hmmmm, I think they all remind me a little too much of the Hotel New Hampshire (although I love John Irving) There is a strong possibility I’m just not cool enough (or too old, likely the case)

    you make me want to reexamine this, and try to watch a few again

  • Meg B

    Fun! I’m in New York a couple of times a year to visit family and I may need to swing up to Harlem to check this out as “I’ve always wanted to be a Tenenbaum”.

  • I love it…awesome that you sought it out!

  • Okay! So You just grew in my estimation! My husband and I too dressed as Tenenbaum characters for halloween years ago! I was Margot as well and he was Richie. My very favorite halloween ever!! We even had someone yell to us “Wes Anderson Sucks!” It made us so happy because people knew who we where! I’ve loved Wes Anderson and The Royal Tenenbaums has continued to be my very favorite film all these years later. So get this! I’m from California originally and my husband and I moved to Manhattan about 4 years ago and moved a few blocks from the Tenenbaum house!!! Totally a coincidence! Like we voted for Obama across the street!!!!! I nearly past out! I secretly go by it and pray it goes on sale. I’ll invite you over if I ever get to own it!

    Our Halloween pic from a million years ago~
    (The little dutch girl in the middle is my little sister, but I think she could be a Wes character one day “The Little Dutch Girl” why not?)

    Ooh and one more geek out! The wall Paper from Margot’s room is from an italian Restaurant on the east side. (yea I don’t remember the name and that will haunt me till the day I accidentally walk in there again)

    • Everywhereist

      Weird. Usually the more I tell people about my self, the less I tend to grow in their estimations. 🙂 Sadly, the photo you linked to is unavailable to non-friends. But I see it in my head, and it is glorious.

  • I am a traveller with a terrible sense of direction and mercifully, i actually enjoy getting lost, the small touch of anxiety in the pit of my stomach…was hoppely lost once in Harlem when harlem was still a no man land and cops would tell you to drive through a red light…I look at the details of daily life , the graffiti’s on the walls, the beautiful architecture of these houses in Harlem. Thank you for taking me back to this house, this neiborhood

  • SFshrink

    Have you heard the wonderful term for travel to sites where beloved movies were filmed?


    Fab, no?

  • houseoffools

    Am I crazy or is there a ghost dressed like a KKK member in the window looking out–8th picture? Kinda creeped me out :S

    • Joy

      SOOO creepy! Thank goodness it was the day after Halloween or I’d be seriously concerned!

  • Carly

    This couldn’t have been written at a better time, as I just recently watched (and loved!) The Royal Tenenbaums. I can definitely see what drew Wes Anderson to this house – it would be lovely and mysterious even for the poor person who has never heard of a Tenenbaum. I haven’t made it to New York City yet, but when I do, I’ll add this to my list of things to see!

  • Gabriel

    here I am sitting in my lonely office in Shanghai, I am expat out here and every now and then I miss the real world so damn much that I surf the web looking for familiar and heart warming… “things”, in the most generic sense of the world. Today it happened to be the Royal Tenembaums house, it really is amazing that I was able to find a well written article that transported me to that warm and cozy place that I was looking for…

    well, now it’s time to get back to work and face the harsh reality of being on the other side of the world, far from everything even remotely as familiar as this house is for me.

More from The Blog

On Instagram @theeverywhereist

  • I asked Rand's grandfather what he thought about his grandson becoming an author. He tried to pretend he was unimpressed.
  • When People Are Nice To Me, I Find It Profoundly Confusing: The Geraldine DeRuiter Story.

We had a lovely dinner with some folks based here in Quebec, and they also gave me cupcakes, and it was all lovely and confusing because I am a nightmare of a human.
  • I went to a stunning library in Quebec City today - the Maison de la litterature was once an old church, and now it is full of books and winding staircases.
  • He complained that we were old, and I told him that we had maybe five more minutes of being young and beautiful, so let's enjoy them. Here they are.
  • It's below freezing in Quebec, and I'm fairly certain everything is haunted, but people are politely enduring my terrible French and there is poutine everywhere, so ... win?
  • Just rummaged through my office, looking for a notebook so I could write down some ideas for my next big project. I opened up this one and found a handwritten draft of the intro to my last book. #thisisagoodsignright
  • Look, just because I rolled a snickerdoodle in curry powder doesn't mean I'm a domestic goddess. Domestic demigoddess? Maybe.
  • Bye-bye, San Diego. It's been ... surprisingly cold, actually. But thanks for the Vitamin D.
  • That'll do, San Diego. That'll do. #tacotacotaco
  • Why, yes, my PJs do feature a cartoon version on my husband of them.

All Over The Place

Buy my book and I promise I'll never ask you for anything again.