So why has she built a home away from home in Texas' hill country, just outside
of Austin?
"It's like my mistress," Obst says. "I go to her whenever I can.
"It's neither L.A. nor New York - nor is my life down there a reflection of my
daily Dow Jones average," she details.
Most tellingly, she adds: "People don't root for each other to fail in Texas.
And I definitely know I won't run into anyone from ^the talent agency_ CAA."
W ELCOME to Tinseltown, Texas, deep in the heart of the Lone Star State, famous
turf for shooting such old and new classics as "Bonnie and Clyde" and "Blood
Simple," "Giant" and "Slacker," "Paris, Texas" and "The Texas Chain Saw
Massacre. "
The population is small but growing as more Hollywood types discover what Obst
has: that Texas - and slacker capital Austin, in particular - is not only a
great place to make movies, but its easygoing lifestyle and sophisticated film
culture make it a great place for movie people to make a life for themselves.
Indeed, Obst opted to move production of her upcoming film "Hope Floats"
(originally set for Arkansas) to Texas, and consequently introduced its star,
Sandra Bullock, to the laidback, bohemian pleasures of Austin.
Bullock has now purchased a house there. Tommy Lee Jones is a part-timer, Drew
Barrymore is a sometimes resident and director Guillermo Del Toro ("Mimic")
just bought a place "in town."
Quentin Tarantino vacations in Austin and recently hosted a film festival
featuring movies from his personal collection.
" He likes it here because this is the kind of place where he can show movies
to cool people and hang out drinking beer and talking movies all night long
without people bothering him for his autograph," says Internet film guru Harry
Knowles, who runs his influential Ain't It Cool News web site out of his Austin
house.
A far cry from Anarene - the fictitious, tumbleweed town in "The Last Picture
Show" - Austin is permanent home to directors Richard Linklater, Robert
Rodriguez and Mike Judge, creator of Fox-TV's hit animated series "King of the
Hill."
Linklater still didn't leave after breaking into the business with "Slacker,"
the 1990 indie smash.
Rodriguez and Judge moved back from L.A. and New York, respectively, after
hitting the big time on the coasts. Both are now busy shooting features in the
Austin area.
"For myself, for Mike and even for Rick, it seems like an ideal place to raise
families and make movies, because we're all originally from around here," says
Rodriguez ("El Mariachi," "Desperado").
His wife, producer Elizabeth Avellan, couldn't agree more. "It's nice living in
a place where we want to raise kids," she says. "Rick has a daughter, Mike
Judge has two. Guillermo Del Toro just had a baby. There's family here. Even
though there's not immediate family here - it's a film family."
THE movie industry in Texas has taken off in the past five years, doubling from
14 features in 1992 to 29 in 1993, and holding steady.
A film-friendly state government (beehive-hairdo-wearing former Gov. Ann
Richards schmoozed the pants off Hollywood execs with her good ol' gal
routine), a diverse shooting landscape, relatively cheap production costs
(helped by generous state tax breaks for filmmakers) and an abundance of
capable crews have made Texas desirable as a movie location.
Though megalopolises such as Dallas and Houston play host to no small amount of
shooting - particularly of television programming and commercials - the
smaller, funkier state capital remains the symbolic heart of Texas moviemaking.
"All the best of Texas gravitates to Austin, because it's where the
intellectual, artistic and bohemian community lives," says Obst.
The current Austin boom began with Linklater and "Slacker" - though its roots
go deeper.
Austin-born Tobe Hooper made his landmark 1974 gore fest, "The Texas Chain Saw
Massacre," in his hometown. Shortly after, though, he hit the road for the Left
Coast.
"You had a big filmgoing community, but when people made movies, they left
town," says longtime movie scenester Louis Black, publisher of the alternative
weekly newspaper the Austin Chronicle.
In the 1980s, the giant University of Texas at Austin began drawing high-tech
industry to the area.
The university also spawned a hot alternative music scene, which it marketed to
the music industry in the annual South by Southwest (SXSW) festival.
Musicians and music industry people returned to L.A. and New York with tales of
great shows, cold beer, good food and no hassle.
THEN Linklater's shoestring-budgeted, 1991 debut film, "Slacker," brought the
town's underground youth culture to national attention.
But many people credit his next move - to stay put rather than bolt for
Hollywood - for turning Austin into a regional movie capital. "Linklater
probably made the biggest difference in the Austin film community," says
Knowles.
"He created the Austin Film Society, which is giving money to young filmmakers
to finish their films," touts Knowles.
"You remember that Sam Fuller retrospective they showed at Cinematheque in
L.A.?" Knowles asks. "We had the same thing six months before."
Linklater tells Post Plus that remaining in the city he loves was something of
a no-brainer.
"You see how these filmmakers of an earlier generation struggled so much?" he
asks. "I just let it come to me. I clearly couldn't have done that 20 years
ago."
Technological advances have made the decentralization of film production
possible. ("Mike Judge talks to his people in L.A. via satellite," says
Avellan.)
And the cultural chasm between unpretentious Austin and what Linklater
describes as "that company town" makes it desirable.
"The air we breathe here isn't the weekend grosses and all that s--t," he says.
"It's really more about going to see movies and talking about movies.
"It's more of a film culture than a business," continues Linklater. "L.A. will
always be about business."
NOW there's plenty of talented crew members living in Austin, many of them
refugees from L.A. who, after shooting a film in Texas, couldn't figure out why
they should go back to La-La Land.
Bill Scott, a veteran production manager, is now at work on the Rodriguez shoot
and finds the unionized crews in Texas much easier to deal with. "Their
attitude is, "How can we make this work?'" he says.
But the makings of a true indigenous film industry - technical facilities for
soundstage shooting and Texas-based distribution and financing - are a long way
off.
Not surprising, that's fine with Linklater, who loves Austin being hip, but not
hype.
"Hustlers, thinking there's something to be exploited, are starting to move
here," grouses the director. "That's the L.A. element we could all do without.
It's just business before art."
Producer Avellan has similar concerns. "We hope that quote-unquote "Hollywood
types' don't move here," she says. "But once they smell it, they'll come."
To hear Avellan tell it, she and Rodriguez are looked upon with envy from their
jaded Hollywood friends.
"Their faces usually drop," says Rodriguez. "They go, "Wow! I've always wanted
to do that.'"
But what about the lure of the limelight?
Sums up Rodriguez: "It's every filmmaker's dream to go into Los Angeles, gain
enough clout to leave, go back home - wherever home is - and make the movies he
or she loves."