Who here has heard the story of rap duo Billy Boyd and Gavin Bain, otherwise known as Silibil N’ Brains? It’s not quite on the level of Milli Vanilli, which included a Best New Artist Grammy giveth, then taken away. Everything was real, from their passion and Rhymesayers-like cadence. Well, except for a couple of things. The duo from Scotland was able to capitalize on a faux Californian identity and secure a record deal. In an early 2000s landscape where every label was looking for the next Eminem, D12, or nu-metal sensation, executives weren’t exactly doing background checks. But that’s the main driving point of James McAvoy’s directorial debut, ‘California Schemin,’ also the name of Bain’s 2010 memoir – authenticity.
With the genre of hip-hop, authenticity is everything. However, there is a prevalent argument that companies and even artists themselves have diluted the pillar. Writers Archie Thomson and Elaine Gracie, along with McAvoy, use the film as a vehicle to untangle complications about what is considered “bankable.” Billy/Silibil (played by Samuel Bottomley) and Gavin/Brains (Séamus McLean Ross) resort to drastic measures due to the barriers they face, which are specific to their identities. The duo works at a call center by day, along with Billy’s girlfriend Mary (Lucy Halliday), and works on their rhymes at night. Gavin clearly wants more; beaten down by the doldrums of everyday life. He sees showcases and MTV in his future.
Things seem to break their way when there’s an audition in London put out by a terse, but funny record executive of Neotone Records, Anthony Reid (played by McAvoy himself). Gavin is a little bit nervous; Billy’s natural performing ability is the anchor for him to loosen up. Unfortunately, the audition goes badly, and most of the disdain stems from their Scottish accents. Briefly deterred, Billy comes up with a plan. Why don’t the duo of Silibil N’ Brains give the people what they want and go through an American transformation? It can’t be that hard, right? In a funny montage, Bottomley and Ross go through a pantheon of American pop culture references, working on their California surfer accents, nailing down their origin story, and dressing themselves in skater clothes to return to London – this time, walking away in triumph. This is all supposed to be in the spirit of the duo reaching the pinnacle of pop show stardom and exposing the industry for the low-moral business that it is.
But in seeing how “California Schemin” is laid out, we all know it’s going to go exactly the way things are planned. A familiar cadence unfolds in the film, chronicling the sudden rise and abrupt fall of this duo. How long can they go on with this lie, really? This is compounded by the fact that budding Neotone talent scout Tessa’s (Rebekah Murrell) reputation is on the line. Everything gets out of hand, and the artists who are seeking to turn the industry inside out get swallowed up by it. Gavin’s insecurities become even more magnified by the sudden surge of fame, and he becomes more of a character than a devoted steward of the craft. Billy starts pushing Mary to the side and indulges in his own type of excess.
While it’s all very typical, Ross and Bottomley’s performances give the tried-and-tested story the extra oomph to get over the finish line. At some point, you find yourself getting caught up in rooting for the underdogs and get dismayed when they fall victim to the lessons spoken in VH1’s “Behind The Music” documentaries. For all the boxes “California Schemin'” checks, some of which have the aged ink of other stories of its kind, a single scene stands out. Tessa speaks to Gavin at his lowest point and asks how many auditions they have gone on. He replies, “One.”
There remains a question of whether Silibil N’ Brains could have existed first as their authentic selves if they hadn’t given up or if they were going to go through the same rejection whiplash to arrive at the same place. While the film’s beats have an inevitability to them, just enough smart deviations exist to make this an enjoyable debut.
This review is a part of Substream Magazine’s 2025 TIFF Coverage
