My Visit to the Brady House

In 2019 I reviewed A Very Brady Renovation, the four-part HGTV series in which the Brady Bunch house shown in nearly every series episode was purchased and renovated into a replica of the home that is as familiar to series fans as their own.

Back then I wrote: “The entire project was a completely impractical thing to do, requiring thousands of hours and millions of dollars. But seeing the results, it feels like time and money well spent. I only wish that all of us who love the show would have an opportunity to visit this treasured TV Land artifact that, most improbably, now exists in our mundane real world.”

Well, it took a few years, but the home is now open, and not long ago I made my pilgrimage to this Comfort TV shrine. I’m still struggling to find the words to describe the experience.

I’ve been to TV show tapings, where the rooms that looked so expansive on television appear much smaller on a soundstage. I still remember my first look at Laverne and Shirley’s apartment, and how it was now bordered by plywood dividers and resembled a miniature replica when viewed at a distance from the studio audience. This was an entirely different experience, being immersed in this space. There were no cameras or overhead lighting grids. I was in a real home on a real street in a real community.

I could easily see how visitors may envision themselves transported into that alternate universe where Mike would announce “Honey, I’m home!” as he strode through the living room, briefcase in hand, wearing a shirt louder than a Motorhead concert. While Carol greets him, Alice is in the kitchen making dinner, and the kids are upstairs in their respective bedrooms, dealing with that week’s adolescent trauma.

Did I feel that way? Not quite. Much as I have loved this show since childhood, my imagination wouldn’t carry me that far. I’ve never been one of those people who go to Disneyland and stand in line to “meet” Ariel or Cinderella and talk with them as if they were the actual characters from the movie. I admire those with the childlike wonder to preserve that illusion, spending a few moments with someone who is, to me, a coed from Orange County who happened to be blessed with the features of a princess.

This world has made me too cynical for such flights of fancy – but I’ll admit to the occasional twinge of a surreal but soothing sensation inside the Brady residence. 

I had entered someplace special, isolated from harsh reality, much like the Bradys themselves were portrayed in the 1995 movie that gently poked fun at their out-of-step existence.

In every room there are reminders of specific episodes – clearly, someone had done their homework before opening the house to fans who have watched every episode dozens of times.

Marcia’s many ribbons and awards fill the dresser in the girl’s bedroom (along with a letter from Davy Jones), while on the desk is Jan’s essay about America, which almost won a contest. Kitty Karry-All rests on Cindy’s bed. 

In the boys’ room you’ll see the newspaper clipping proclaiming Peter a hero for saving a little girl in Driscoll’s toy store, and above Greg’s bed a copy of The Red Badge of Courage – remember when that was mentioned?

There’s a house of cards in the living room, and a silver platter engraved with the names of all six kids. 

Items on the family room table recall other memorable episodes, and in the den Mike proudly displays his “Father of the Year” plaque. Alice’s bedroom is here as well, as are the parents’ bedroom and Greg’s converted attic, complete with Raquel the goat and sheet music for “We Can Make the World a Whole Lot Brighter.”

I went through all the rooms at least three times and each time found something I missed in my previous visit. Even the backyard offers a few familiar sights.

And if you were curious, even with all the references to specific shows, I did not see any related to Cousin Oliver. I applaud that decision.

Thinking of going? Here’s what you need to know. The cost is $275 for 90 minutes, and an advance reservation is required. Don’t expect to have the house to yourself – there may be other visitors who booked the same day and time (there were when I was there) and there are two tour reps who monitor guests to make sure no one walks off with any artifacts.

Other ground rules: you must take your shoes off before entering, you’re not allowed to sit on the furniture, and for heaven’s sake don’t play ball in the house (yes, the vase featured in that episode is back in its rightful place). You are, however, allowed to open the refrigerator – and you’ll know why once you do.

Final thoughts: I’m sure that price may seem high to some, but for the moment business is brisk. One of the home’s caretakers told me that they’ve seen visitors walk in and burst into tears. I get that. Perhaps, growing up, the Brady house was the only happy home they knew.

I write about classic TV here and in my books because it means something to me. Something beyond mere escapism and entertainment. That someone thought enough to provide the time and effort required to transform the Brady Bunch house suggests that I am not alone in those sentiments. The generations that grew up with the series are, to paraphrase Bob Dylan, “so much older then,” but also “younger than that now.” Here is a place to be younger, feel younger, and believe once more in sunshine days.