James McAvoy’s Charming Directorial Bow

Back in the early 2000s, a pair of blue-eyed Scottish lads with dreams of becoming the next Eminem — but dismissed as sounding like “the rapping Proclaimers” — proceeded to pass themselves off as Southern California hip-hoppers, remarkably managing to pull off a hoax that gets them signed by a major record label.

It’s the stuff that episodes of VH1’s Behind the Music are made of, but in the talented hands of James McAvoy, making his directorial debut, those well-traveled, rise-and-fall tropes nevertheless make for an underdog dramatic comedy that proves hard to resist.

With a charismatic cast headed by Seamus McLean Ross and Samuel Bottomley, California Schemin’ is a nimbly paced yarn that may not have set out to reinvent the wheel, but makes for a buoyant excursion nonetheless. It wouldn’t be surprising for the film to emerge from TIFF, where it was handed its world premiere, securing a U.S. theatrical distribution deal.

Finding it tricky to establish hip-hop street cred when you’re two baby-faced kids from Dundee, rap duo Billy Boyd (Bottomley) and Gavin Bain (Ross), better known as Silibil N’ Brains, have been occupying their waking hours spitting bars with a decidedly Scottish brogue. Realizing they’re going to need to up their game if they have a shot of making it into the big leagues, they grab a map of California and proceed to create a fake backstory for themselves: They claim to hail from Hemet (!) after their first answer, “the projects of Beverly Hills,” fails to fool a record exec (James Corden) and they cobble together a semblance of an American accent studying movies like Jerry Maguire and The Usual Suspects.

“You actually sound American,” remarks Billy’s girlfriend, Mary (Lucy Halliday). “You sound, like, entitled!”

They take the rebooted Silibil N’ Brains for a test run at a club, where they capture the attention of a talent scout (Rebekah Murrell) for Neotone Records in England. A hotshot producer (McAvoy) agrees to sign the boys to a recording contract.

Initially the scheme is to drop their facade during a scheduled appearance on a popular MTV show where they would decry the industry’s “racism.” But Gavin, finding himself swept up by the more excessive trappings of their new lifestyle and growing resentful of Mary’s emotional tug on Billy, reneges on the deal, driving a widening wedge between them.

Taking its cues from Bain’s 2010 tell-all, Straight Outta Scotland, which in turn inspired the 2013 BBC Four documentary, The Great Hip Hop Hoax, their story held understandable attraction for McAvoy, himself no stranger to the concepts of authenticity and remaining true to oneself. Despite his hailing from Glasgow, over the course of his 30 years as a film actor there have only been a handful of times when he’s actually played Scottish characters.

Sharing a tangible feel for the characters and their working-class milieu, McAvoy demonstrates an unfussy sincerity in his directing approach, one that, especially before things take a darker turn in the second half, evokes the sort of easy charm found in the films of fellow Scotsman Bill Forsyth.

Given that the Silibil N’ Brains story played fast and loose with the truth, it should come as no surprise that the screenplay by Elaine Gracie and Archie Thomson obviously takes its own dramatic license. For example, their record deal was actually with Sony Music UK and their break-up happened years before the hoax was revealed; it was not the cause of the split, as depicted in the film.

At the end of the day, Bain and Boyd may have duped the public, but they didn’t have to hang their heads in Milli Vanilli shame. Fake accents aside, it was still their own voices doing the rapping. And while that 15-minutes-of-fame schematic might be an all-too-familiar tune, California Schemin’s ultimate success is all in the delivery.