Today we’d like to introduce you to Justin Casselle.
Hi Justin, can you start by introducing yourself? We’d love to learn more about how you got to where you are today?
I didn’t grow up seeing a life in film or tv. I, of course, loved it as a form of entertainment or escapism, but I didn’t think of it as an industry I could one day be a part of. I grew up an athlete; playing basketball and baseball non-stop all throughout the year. In hindsight, I could see there being some foreshadowing events such as me being extra particular about the structure of a church play or putting on performances with my aunts and uncles during the holidays. But for the most part, sports was my thing. As I went through high school and college, the status quo remained — that is until one semester prior to graduating my advisor told me I was one arts elective short of my required credits. Not graduating? Needless to say, Mom and Pop wouldn’t like that. And unfortunately for me, still slightly in my jock era, the only available class was improv. I had no choice but to “yes, and” my way into this class, but little did I know this would change everything. Taking that class changed my life. It taught me how to communicate, how to think on my feet and trust my instincts, and how to lead with my creativity and not tuck it away. But most importantly, it taught me how to be ok with failing. Halfway through that class the instructor pulled me aside and asked me to audition for the upcoming musical he was putting on. First improv, now a musical? Yo, who was I? But I was intrigued. I wanted to dig deeper into who this new Justin was. So I went. My audition consisted of telling a joke (I borrowed a Kevin Hart joke, taking a bet that these two middle-aged white theater guys wouldn’t have heard of it) and singing a song (My Girl, by the Temptations) and the next thing I knew I was in the cast. Oh, and what was the musical? It was Hairspray. Now, I wasn’t cast as Seaweed or a race-bent Corny Collins, but I was in the cast. At the end of the show’s run, I remember thinking “Wait a minute, two months ago we had nothing but a book and a room full of strangers. Now we have choreography, wardrobe, set builds, and a theatre full of patrons.” My mind was blown and I completely fell in love. Ultimately, I knew theater wasn’t where I was going to go, but it showed me the power in communal creativity. I wanted to make things. So two weeks before graduation, I rented all the camera equipment I could find to make what I can now say was the worst short film ever made. But I was on to something. And I haven’t looked back since.
I moved to Chicago after university and worked as a commercial producer in advertising. As someone who didn’t go to film school, this was my film school. Learning how to put together a production, a budget, a cast, etc. I never dreamed of being a producer, but when I was looking for that coveted first post-college job I was too afraid to say I wanted to be a writer or a director. But that fear quickly dissipated. Chicago embraced me with loving and artistic arms. When I was traveling the country producing commercials for the likes of McDonald’s, Jeep, or Nintendo, I was PA on the weekends, filming comedy music videos, shorts, and whatever else I could get my hands on. The Chicago indie film community, and by extension the Black, brown, and queer creative community at large, truly made me who I am as an artist today. The hustle, the camaraderie, the support — we didn’t have a lot of help but we had each other. And for someone who’s always struggled with the idea of “home,” that Chicago love meant the world to me. I ended up spending just under a decade in Chicago prior to moving to LA.
Thankfully moving to LA wasn’t a huge culture shock. Many of the commercials I produced filmed in LA, so I had some friends, some network, and some idea which direction the ocean was. Since moving to LA, nothing has made me question my ability and talent the way this town and industry has, but I credit my friends, and my chosen family for keeping me upright. I’ve had my fair share of wins too. When Aunt Jemima decided to change their 100+-year-old name to Pearl Milling Company in a bid to solve racism (?) I was the one who directed those commercials. We filmed part of the commercials just a few blocks away from my very first job in advertising. Talk about full circle. After those commercials aired, I went on to be signed by the commercial production company Great Guns USA. As someone whose job it was to parse through hundreds of director reels to find the best fit for whichever particular commercial I was producing at the time, I was now on the other side as a signed and working director. I’ve since directed one of PETA’s first-ever comedy commercials and a music video by Grammy-nominated New Orleans band Tank and the Bangas. But my journey hasn’t at all been full of victories.
Alright, so let’s dig a little deeper into the story – has it been an easy path overall and if not, what were the challenges you’ve had to overcome?
I struggled to break into Hollywood proper, even with strong writing samples and projects I directed. I eventually signed with a manager but soon learned signing with a manager means nothing if they don’t share the vision you have for yourself. Needless to say, we parted ways amicably. I’ve been rejected from what feels like every program in the industry at least once and I’ve been ghosted by more execs than I can count. Even in the commercial space, I struggled to be seen as a director while so many people in that industry know me as a producer. I remember having conversations with my mom who would always tell me to remember that I knew it would be hard. My response? “I didn’t know it would be THIS hard!” This industry is not kind to Black, Brown, and queer artists and I felt that immediately. I started comparing myself to others in a way I’ve never done before, I started to doubt my own abilities and started to create for approval and validation from who the hell knows rather than doing it for myself. This town made me lose sight of so much and I had to fight to regain control over why I was doing this all in the first place. I had to remind myself why I chose this.
Ultimately, it came down to this: I love creating. I love writing. And I love being on set. If there’s anything I hold onto from my younger days as an athlete, it’s that I love being a part of a team. And I love creating communally and being a part of something bigger than any one person. I’ve leaned so much on the community I’ve fostered in LA (full of Chicago folk, in case you were wondering) to get me through tough times and celebrate the good times and I’m grateful. While I don’t know what will happen next in my career, I’m proud to be where I’m at. My time will come. And, depending on how might ask, perhaps it already has. Perhaps my time is now.
Alright, so let’s switch gears a bit and talk business. What should we know about your work?
I’m a writer + director. And I love to tell the kind of stories that are big-hearted, genre-bending, with unexpected left turns and sharp social commentary through the lens of comedy. Some might say, “Oh, so you’re a comedy director” but that feels too limiting. To be honest, I see comedy more as a bit of seasoning than anything else. Like salt and pepper, comedy can go with anything. Throughout the course of a day, we all experience frustration, humor, indifference, and a myriad of other emotions. While I understand the basic need to be able to categorize one’s work, I aim to create worlds in which all emotions, and genres can be present. That’s always been the kind of movies and tv I love to watch, and that’s what I love to create.
As a director in the commercial space, I’m known for a blend of lifestyle and comedy work. And while I don’t think it solved racism, I am proud of the work I did for the Pearl Milling Company commercials. For that to be my first commercial as a signed director, filming a mere few blocks away from where my career in advertising began, was really special.
On my social media bios, you’ll see “Oh yeah, he’s cool – Other People” and, honestly, I think that’s a great description of me. I had a friend ask about what I wanted my legacy to be and that’s honestly not at all something I think about. I just want to create movies and TV I, myself, would want to watch and leave the rest to everyone else. I just want to be the guy people trust, people like, and people will want to be around whether in a writer’s room or on set for 8+ hours a day.
Contact Info:
- Website: www.casselle.us
- Instagram: instagram.com/justincasselle
- Twitter: twitter.com/justincasselle
