The Cedars represents Hollywood real estate at its most theatrical: sand-colored stucco rising from the Los Feliz hillside, towers and terraces competing with the landscape, and a scale meant to signal permanence as much as glamour. Completed in the mid 1920s, the estate has passed through silent-era ambition, gothic mythmaking, countercultural excess, and meticulous restoration. What gives it lasting relevance today is not just its legend, but how effectively it turns history, architecture, and location into enduring real estate value.
Quick Facts
Location: Los Feliz / Outpost Estates, Los Angeles, CA
Built: Circa 1926 to 1927
Architects: Lyman Farwell and Herman C. Light (designed for director Maurice Tourneur)
Style: Mediterranean and Spanish Colonial Revival with Moorish and Baroque detailing
Size: Approximately 10,000 to 13,000 square feet, 26 rooms, multiple terraces
Lot: Hillside parcel under one acre
Notable Owners: Maurice Tourneur, Madge Bellamy, Béla Lugosi (tenant), Johnny Depp (1995 to 2004), Sue Wong (2004 to present)
Origins: a director’s vision for hillside prestige
In the mid 1920s, Los Feliz was emerging as one of Hollywood’s most desirable residential enclaves. It offered elevation, privacy, and proximity to the studios, a combination that still defines high-value hillside real estate today. French director Maurice Tourneur commissioned The Cedars as a personal statement, a European-inspired villa that would stand apart from the flatter estates below.
Designed by Lyman Farwell and Herman C. Light, the house was conceived with cinematic intent. Long approaches, layered terraces, and dramatic interior sequences create a sense of arrival and procession. These are qualities that continue to appeal to buyers seeking properties that feel intentional, not generic, especially in neighborhoods where hillside homes compete on experience as much as square footage.
Architecture: why opulence still sells
The Cedars blends Mediterranean warmth with Baroque theatricality. Cypress-lined approaches, arched windows, stone detailing, and a heavily articulated façade give the house visual authority from every angle. Inside, Venetian-style murals, gold-leaf ceilings, imported marble floors, and grand public rooms establish a hierarchy of spaces rarely found in contemporary construction.
From a real estate perspective, this level of craftsmanship creates something modern homes often lack: irreplaceability. Materials, proportions, and hand-finished details like these cannot be economically replicated today, which is precisely why restored historic estates often command premiums well beyond their raw square footage.
Early Hollywood glamour and market identity
One of The Cedars’ earliest owners was Madge Bellamy, a major silent-era star who purchased the property in 1927. At the height of her fame, the house became a private stage for Hollywood’s elite, hosting gatherings that reinforced Los Feliz as a neighborhood associated with cultural power and discretion.
That association still matters. Neighborhood identity, shaped by who lived there and how properties were used, continues to influence buyer perception today. Homes like The Cedars anchor that identity in a way newer construction cannot.
Gothic mythology and cultural cachet
By the late 1930s and 1940s, actor Béla Lugosi reportedly rented the home, adding a layer of gothic mythology that never fully faded. The association transformed The Cedars into one of Hollywood’s most talked-about “haunted” estates, a reputation that paradoxically increased its cultural value.
Later, Johnny Depp owned the property while preparing for his role as Ed Wood, reinforcing its appeal to buyers drawn to homes with narrative depth. In Los Angeles, where image and storytelling are currency, cultural mythology often enhances rather than diminishes desirability.
Creative eras and adaptive appeal
During the 1960s and 1970s, The Cedars attracted musicians and artists drawn to its privacy and scale. Like many large hillside estates, it adapted to changing cultural tastes without losing its core identity. This flexibility is a key reason historic properties survive multiple market cycles.
Homes that can absorb new uses, whether as private residences, creative spaces, or event venues, tend to retain relevance longer than houses tied too tightly to a single era or lifestyle.
Restoration as value creation
By the early 2000s, The Cedars required serious intervention. Fashion designer Sue Wong purchased the estate in 2004 and undertook an extensive restoration, stabilizing the structure while reviving its decorative elements. Gold ceilings were regilded, murals repainted, and architectural details restored rather than replaced.
This type of restoration does more than preserve beauty. It resets a property’s position in the market, transforming deferred maintenance into renewed desirability. For buyers and sellers alike, The Cedars illustrates how thoughtful stewardship can dramatically alter long-term value.
Context: why estates like this still matter
- 1920s: Hollywood wealth seeks permanence through architecture, anchoring identity in the hills.
- 1930s to 1940s: Glamour and shadow coexist as myth and reputation attach to physical places.
- 1960s to 1980s: Creative reuse allows large estates to survive shifting tastes.
- 2000s to present: Restoration and preservation become luxury markers rather than liabilities.
Why The Cedars matters in today’s real estate market
- Scarcity: Large, intact historic estates in Los Feliz and Outpost Estates are increasingly rare.
- Identity: Homes with layered history carry emotional and cultural weight that influences buyer demand.
- Restoration upside: Well-executed preservation can significantly elevate long-term value.
- Location strength: Hillside privacy combined with central Los Angeles access remains highly desirable.
What it feels like inside today
Passing through wrought-iron gates, the house reveals itself gradually. Light moves across stone floors and painted ceilings. Terraces open toward the city while remaining shielded from it. The scale is generous without feeling hollow, and the materials absorb sound, creating an unexpected quiet. It feels less like stepping back in time than stepping into a layered narrative, one that continues to evolve with each owner.
All home images here are artistic illustrations used for education and historical commentary.
