The Action Hero’s Launch Pad
Superstar Jason Statham is building an incredible success story. Here’s how he uses his home base to fuel his passions
By Mike Zimmerman Photos By Art Streiber
INSIDE THE LAUNCH PAD
Statham lives in the hills of West Hollywood, about 20 seconds and one R8 fishtail from the Sunset Strip (as I found out firsthand). From the outside, it looks unremarkable: nothing but a concrete wall, impenetrable vegetation, and a garage door. (That’s for the R8 and his Audi RS6 sedan, “the black stealth bomber,” Statham calls it; his bum-around vehicle, an Audi Q7 SUV, gets the short end out by the curb.)
Inside, it’s a sanctuary. That’s what drew him to it—that, and the architecture. It’s essentially a one-story glass house cut into the hill, tucked in with retaining walls on three sides. There’s a small wading pool in the front patio. (“A birdbath,” he calls it. “No fear of drowning in there.”) If you stand by that pool, you can see clear through three glass walls into the living room, the dining room, another outdoor seating area, and his bedroom.
“I had this old Spanish place in Hollywood,” he says as he gives the tour, “which was lovely. But I split up with a girl, so I was a bit like, ‘Screw this, I want something less chintzy.’ I’ve always liked modern, contemporary architecture. Lots of light. Simple. Easily maintained. I’ve always wanted a midcentury glass house, because you can’t get them in England because the weather’s such crap. You’d freeze your nuts off and be constantly cleaning the windows.”
And in this house, there are windows everywhere. And skylights. In fact, during the day you don’t have to turn on any lights. The kitchen is wide open, looking into a rec room with a big plasma TV and couches. You can see his bedroom from here, too. And his office. There’s even a floor-to-ceiling window looking into the guest bathroom from the kitchen. “You’ll catch someone having a moment if they don’t close the blinds,” Statham says, chuckling.
He loves the house because it fits exactly what he needs to do—and not do. It allows him to work and travel, but also to live and entertain well when he’s home. The white marble tile floor doesn’t need vacuuming. No gardening, because there’s no yard. The fireplace is gas. And in the outdoor seating area between his bedroom and the dining room (encased in glass, naturally), there’s a koi pond that was recently rendered maintenance-free by local raccoons. “I had some big, juicy carp,” he says. “The rat bastards cleaned me out. I watched them do it, but I don’t have a gun.”
Next to the pond is a curious item—a concrete urn filled with black sand. Statham smiles, turns a knob next to it, and puts a match to the sand. Whomp, instant campfire. “There’s a gas ring beneath the sand,” he says. “This looks the bollocks at night. This is where the beer drinking and bullshitting are done.
“It’s a lot like a big apartment,” he says as we adjourn to the white living-room couch. “That’s why I bought this place. There’s a line of sight everywhere. You can always be heard or seen in any part of the house. I love the open kitchen. If the boys come around to watch football or boxing, you can be doing a bit of cooking and see the TV. It’s the most practical kind of setup I could ever wish for.”
That’s what he believes men should strive harder for. Rather than trying to impress with your digs and your car, turn the attention inward and find the place that feeds your lifestyle and passions. You’re the one living there, after all. Everyone else just visits. Statham certainly could’ve blown more money on a bigger, more extravagant place higher in the hills. But he doesn’t see the point. In the 2 years since he moved in, he’s lived, worked, and played in peace. “This is all I need.”
Of course, Statham is currently a bachelor. A wife or live-in girlfriend could complicate matters with opinions and home-creating dreams of her own. But whether it’s a garage, workout room, or finished basement, every man has some small territory he can call, and make, his own. To that end, Statham suggests following these rules.
Always choose your own stuff. The Hollywood way would be to hire a home stylist to come into your new house and outfit it with the latest appointments, from uncomfortable sofas to offensive color schemes to incomprehensible artwork. “Bollocks,” says Statham. He decorated the entire place himself. The color scheme is monochromatic, which works well in the natural light. The couches are for sitting. The kitchen is for mess-making. The floor is for spilling. And yet it all has cohesive class. The real secret, Statham says, is lots of patience. “I didn’t do it all at once. I picked as I went. Within a few months, I was done, and I don’t have to worry about it anymore unless I see something I really like.”
Decorate from within. Interior decorating should not be scoffed at. In fact, if you put your imagination to work and think about what reflects you, it’s easy. Statham has some cool photography on the walls. There’s a massive pic of Steve McQueen driving a convertible within sight of virtually every room in the house. “McQueen’s the original icon, isn’t he? That’s the first thing I’ve ever spent an extravagant amount of money on, an original by William Claxton.”
Another photo of Muhammad Ali dominates the guest bedroom. “A mate gave me that for my birthday last year. His dad took it, Chris Smith. I’ve always been a massive fan of Ali.” His office shelves are full of personal photos, and a matted, framed trio of (unscathed) silhouette pistol targets hangs in his kitchen. Hang whatever makes you feel more like yourself—if it’s framed, it’ll have class.
Get away as much as possible. If your place becomes too much of a sanctuary, you’ll destroy the point of creating it in the first place. You have to go out and live well.
Statham, surprisingly enough, has no home fitness equipment—which is significant when you consider his line of work. He prefers to leave his place for fitness. Right now he’s training for the Death Race remake, hitting a gym near the airport—all the more significant, given what a pain driving can be in L.A. (even in an R8). But stuntmen work out at that gym, and it’s outfitted with exactly the things Statham needs to prepare for a job (He recently lost 17 pounds in 6 weeks prepping for this role). Again: It’s one less thing to maintain on the home front, and going to the gym allows him to interact with his coworkers.
Try to impress women—but not too hard. You don’t want your place to turn off the ladies, of course. But at the same time, “I’ve always thought it was uncomfortable to strategically set up some kind of situation with scented candles, a fire, the right music on,” says Statham. “You just don’t know what runs through girls’ heads. One might be like, ‘Okay, he’s definitely trying to get in my jeans, the bastard.’ Another might be like, ‘Oh, he’s trying really hard to impress me. He must really like me.’ ”
Statham pauses, and then smiles. “Besides, women will always find something to make you wrong. So just make yourself happy.” He bursts out laughing. “Then at least one person will be happy!”
