Coen from p 29 Deco building and the room where he goes in front of the [parole] board was a beau- tiful [wooden-walled] room, a very rare find in Phoenix,” she says. “My first day at work was to clean those walls. And I was like, ‘Is this what movie people do? I went to college, I had a degree.’ And when the Coen brothers came walking in, I was thinking, ‘Notice me, put me in a different position.’” Maricopa County Maximum Security Correctional Facility for Men 24th Street Water Treatment Plant, 6202 North 24th Street “Prison ain’t the easiest place to think ...” For most of its 69-year lifespan, Phoenix’s 24th Street Water Treatment Plant has been an ordinary piece of municipal infra- structure. For a few nights in early 1986, though, it became the exterior of Raising Arizona’s fictional “Maricopa County Maximum Security Correctional Facility for Men.” “The Coens were looking for a place to be a prison for a [ jail break] scene,” Knoblauch says. “That location looked very stark and turned out to work really well for them.” It also had a large dirt lot, which was turned into a giant mud pit where convicts Gale (John Goodman) and Evell (William Forsythe) escape by digging their way out during a storm. Fields says crews dug a hole for a giant inflatable bladder, which supported Goodman and pushed him from the hole. “He literally stepped out on top of the ground and then pulled [Forsythe] through from his feet,” Fields says. “It was just thick and pretty muddy out there to work in, too. It was a clear night, so we had a rain machine going.” It went better than the production’s experiences at an actual local prison. McCallum says the production had permission to film at the Arizona State Prison Complex in Florence, but only if they’d agree not to bring any prop guns or propane tanks into the facility because of safety concerns. “So the prop truck breaks down in the middle of the gate on the way into the prison. And they end up looking through the truck and they’re finding guns and propane, which weren’t allowed anywhere near the property,” he says. “And my father [former Arizona Film Commission head William McCallum] got an upset phone call from the warden.” Hi and Ed’s Camper North 136th Street and East Del Timbre Drive, Scottsdale “Ed’s pa staked us to a starter home in suburban Tempe ...” Despite Hi’s narration, the couple’s desert homestead and camper weren’t remotely 33 close to Tempe, at least in our universe. Instead, it’s perched on the edge of land owned by the Salt-River Pima Indian Community near the upscale Carino Canyon Homes development. At the time of filming, though, it was essentially the middle of nowhere. Shorr says they brought in everything to create a cluster of trailers for the movie. “We brought each trailer in and they built the roads. I remember all of us collectively [in the art department] trying to find things and goodies to put in the front yards of each trailer.” She also wrangled some of the cars parked around the area, including using her own ride. “I did all the vehicles that were there. My own VW is in front of one of the trailers,” Shorr says. “We were going to leave it up for longer, but there was a time constraint with the deal [the production] had. It’s kind of wild to think about, because that area is now getting built out.” As for the interior of Hi and Ed’s trailer, that was at another location altogether. Arizona Residence Jokake Inn at The Phoenician, 6000 East Camelback Road, Scottsdale “You go right back up there and get me a toddler! I need a baby, Hi.” If you’re an unpainted furniture tycoon like Nathan Arizona, residing in quaint Southwestern digs like the Jokake Inn with your wife and children seems pretty fitting. The historic Pueblo Revival-style adobe dwelling on the grounds of The Phoenician resort fit the movie’s kitschy aesthetic like a turquoise-studded tasseled glove. Shorr says production had to do exten- sive landscaping on the property before filming several scenes there, including Hi and Ed kidnapping Nathan Junior from the second-floor window. “It had been sitting for 20 years or more and nobody had been using it,” she says. “I brought in cactuses and added cactuses to what was already there. And it was just the most beautiful building. It was heaven, like the sort of good bones an [art >> p 35 phoenixnewtimes.com | CONTENTS | FEEDBACK | OPINION | NEWS | FEATURE | NIGHT+DAY | CULTURE | FILM | CAFE | MUSIC | PHOENIX NEW TIMES MARCH 17TH– MARCH 23RD, 2022
