Flasz On Film

Some movies need that “based on a true story” disclaimer to run at the beginning of the projection because otherwise the audience might not be able to believe a word of what the film is trying to do. Sometimes not only is the truth stranger than fiction, but it is so perplexingly unbelievable that even that disclaimer might not be enough. California Schemin’ is one such film.

James McAvoy was contacted by the film’s producer Danny Page and offered the opportunity to direct it, regardless of the fact that he had not worked behind the camera beforehand at all in any formal capacity. Somehow, McAvoy took a liking to the script and agreed to step behind the camera and make California Schemin’ his official directorial debut. Perhaps Page knew instinctively that McAvoy would understand, even if instinctively, where the heart of this project was.

He must have seen something in this real story of two Scottish youngsters, Billy Boyd and Gavin Bain (played in the movie by Samuel Bottomley and Séamus McLean Ross), who hailed from Dundee and went on to become a hip-hop act known as Silibil N’ Brains. What they did however wasn’t as simple as starting a band and grinding their way to some form of widespread recognition and a recording contract. Having been laughed out of label auditions in London and referred to as “rapping Proclaimers,” Billy and Gavin decided that their Scottishness was the problem because they innately felt that their material and rapping acumen were objectively quite formidable. Therefore, they concocted a plan according to which they would assume fake American personalities, develop faux California accents and pose as bona fide Yanks trying to make a career in hip-hop… in England. Which they did, actually. Despite their on-and-off accent work and surface-level self-characterizations as Americans, their fake act Silibil N’ Brains managed to bamboozle a recording label to sign them, let them record a single and tour with seriously famous hip-hop acts before their cover was blown.

And, quite honestly, the idea of watching these two bozos get in way over their heads in an attempt to reduce to practice the famous phrase “fake it till you make it” is supremely entertaining. There is something lovable and heartwarming about following what essentially is a real-life duo of characters that could have easily been Bill & Ted as they lie, scheme and bamboozle their way into some approximation of hip-hop stardom. Naturally, I don’t know how close California Schemin’ gets to what actually happened to Gavin and Bill and how much dramatic licence the movie has been given in pursuit of a story that could function as a feature-length underdog story with a well-rounded dramatic arc. If you want to learn more about their story, you might as well pick up Gavin Bain’s book (California Schemin’: How Two Lads from Scotland Conned the Music Industry) or watch the documentary this movie refers to as well (The Great Hip-Hop Hoax). Some snippets of that doc play over the end credits of this film, though.

But that’s not really necessary to get the gist of it all and the McAvoy-directed movie is more than enough to supply ample amounts of exhilaration and catharsis that ought to be part and parcel of any stranger-than-fiction movie about people getting well over their skis, straining their relationships and putting their own friendship in peril in pursuit of greatness… or at least in an attempt to leave Scotland. Maybe this is the bit that McAvoy saw in the screenplay for this movie: a personification of that yearning to do whatever it takes to become something and to leave a mark; to fly in the face of the birthplace lottery that sees so many people struggle immensely in life only because they were born and grew up in the ass end of nowhere and not in sunny California. Anyone who has ever been to Dundee, Scotland in the doldrums of February will be able to empathize with that desire to just up and leave and do whatever it takes to become successful elsewhere.

In a way, Billy and Gavin represent that burning passion—warped in their case by the ridiculous hoax they devised to give themselves a leg up—to overcome whatever their circumstances might have been and to just go after their dreams. By hook or by crook. What is more, the movie paints them as authentic, earnest and ever so slightly naive, which definitely helps to get the audience on their side. Well, that and their rapping, which is quite honestly pretty solid. But the movie honestly registers like a long-lost sequel in the Bill & Ted franchise where Keanu Reeves and Alex Winter were temporarily replaced by Scottish youngsters. It’s an honest and warm hybrid of an underdog dramedy with a ridiculous hangout that you can’t help but watch with a wide grin on your face, despite the fact that the narrative is somewhat formulaic.

But then again, It’s OK. I don’t know if the real story unfolded anywhere near as neatly and even if it did, it would still be fine. Life just sometimes works that way. Regardless, a movie of this kind doesn’t need to break new ground as long as the dramatic spectacle is appropriately delivered. Which it is. McAvoy directs this canonical underdog movie with featherlight flair the subject matter deserved and lets his characters have fun with their assignment to essentially play Scottish stoners going undercover in London and somehow making the audience care massively about their success and eventual downfall.

In the end, California Schemin’ succeeds in two ways: as an execution of a tried-and-true underdog formula that just fires on all cylinders with remarkable ease and as something with a bit more edge. It’s above all else a tribute to everyone who grew up in places where their dreams were out of step with the small-town mindset of those around them. To those who gathered the necessary courage to try and do something about it and those who didn’t too.