How accurate is California Schemin'? The unbelievable true story behind James McAvoy’s new film

Forget keeping it real – James McAvoy gets as fake as possible for his freestyle-filled directorial debut, California Schemin'. Now showing in UK cinemas, it chronicles the wild rise and sudden fall of Silibil N’ Brains, two rap prodigies who appeared out of thin air to become America’s hottest rhyme-spitting duo.

Unfamiliar with the name? Well, you’re not alone. A grab-bag of early-noughties alt-aesthetics, Silibil N’ Brains adopted Eminem-style rapid-fire lyrics and merged them with the juvenile humour, baggy pants and sideways caps of Blink 182.

Fans entrenched in an era of Jackass stunts, skateboarding and Dirty Sanchez gross-outs naturally ate it up – with the duo going on to open for genre heavyweights D12. However, just as quickly as they burst onto the scene, the pair mysteriously disappeared. So what happened?

Well, as it turns out, the duo weren’t America’s hottest new rapping duo at all. In fact, they weren’t even American. In reality, Silibil N’ Brains were Billy Boyd and Gavin Bain, two pals from small-town Scotland with dreams of rap mega-stardom – and the lengths they went to make their goals a reality are almost too wild to believe.

Read on for everything you need to know about the wild true story behind California Schemin' – with exclusive insight from Boyd and Bain themselves.

California Schemin' true story: Billy Boyd and Gavin Bain on the incredible tale

"What we did was born out of youthful exuberance – but also fear," says Bain, AKA the rapper formerly known as Brains McLoud in an exclusive interview with Radio Times.

These life-long rap fans from Dundee made a snap decision to pretend to be Californian in an attempt to show the music industry that skill was more important than circumstance.

It was something close to their hearts, especially after being knocked back by London talent scouts. "The fear of failure and being told you’d never make it because of where you’re from lit a fire under me," Bain explains. "I was willing to die for this, just to prove a point."

As a result, Silibil N’ Brains were born from a little white lie told during a phone call with a gig booker. From there, the duo went all-in, devising elaborate backstories to bring their Californian creations to life. Still, underneath this impulsive case of imposter syndrome lay a very real issue.

"It’s an underdog story about people who aren’t given the opportunities they deserve just because of what they sound like or where they’re from," explains Boyd.

"People thought hip hop couldn’t be from Scotland. We just didn’t fit that pop mould [the industry] was looking for. Nowadays, people might not get that because everything feels more inclusive – but back then, we didn’t have those opportunities."

For Bain, being denied access to his dream was particularly painful. "When they told us we’d never make it because we were from Scotland and to go home in your 'See You Jimmy' hats I was so confused."

However, he quickly funnelled his anger into a solution… albeit a bit of a weird one: "When I told our friends, everyone thought I was nuts," he laughs, recalling the decision to adopt American personas to crack the industry. "Everyone was like 'This is so crazy. You could get arrested.'"

With new identities and no shortage of real rap talent, the pair set out to show the world what they could do. Their research ran deep. Together, they decided exactly where their alter-egos were from and how they ended up wowing crowds in rainy England.

"It was easy because we were so immersed in American youth culture," reasons Boyd. "We were always messing around and creating funny characters. I have family just outside Los Angeles, so we used that. We said we were from Hemet, San Jacinto, California.

"It was real but small enough that no one would really question it. We had a backstory too," he adds. "We were skating, went travelling and ended up in London. It was so basic and vague that we could get away with it."

Born in South Africa before immigrating to Dundee, Bain was used to reinventing himself to suit new surroundings. "Once something works, you start to make a plan, even if the plan is kind of wild," he laughs.

"We were going to get a record deal and come clean on TV. There were so many ways it could’ve gone wrong but you kind of come to appreciate your ability to improvise. Doing it every day was seductive – only to the point where you’re alone at night lying in bed and thinking 'My God, what are we doing?'"

Their dedication to deception paid off. By the end of their first gig as Americans, record labels were already keen. "We still naively thought we’d be able to come off stage and say we’re from Scotland. We were approached by a guy from Island Records and because the adrenaline was still running, we said we were from California," recalls Boyd. "That became a crossroads. There was no turning back. It was all or nothing - and we went with the former."

Next, a Sony record deal materialised. "By the time we signed, we had zero money," remembers Bain. "When I told [talent manager] Jonathan Shalit we wouldn’t get out of bed for less than £70K, that was just pure desperation. He looked at me and said 'Okay, fine.' I was like, 'Wait, what? I could’ve said more?'"

Then, the partying started: "When you’re going out with what you think is an unlimited budget, you don’t see it going down," he continues. "The next morning, we’d pull receipts from our pockets and they’d be for £250 rounds. We were good time guys – and we had a good time."

Rumours about the duo’s booze-heavy rise have since become the stuff of legend. However, Boyd assures us things weren’t as crazy as some would have you believe. "It was never a case of 'Here's £70,000'. I've even heard stories of like half a million," he says of lofty cash advance myths.

"We were living a rockstar lifestyle for three years and we didn’t spend a penny of our own money because everything was paid for – but naively, that would later come off our advances. We didn’t think of that though. We were just living in the moment."

As their notoriety grew, so did their web of lies – and it was getting increasingly complex. After hinting they’d come up alongside US rappers D12, the pair were shocked when they heard they’d soon be reunited with their old pals.

"Our tour manager said 'You’re going on the road with your best friends!' I was like 'Who the f**k are our best friends?'" remembers Bain. "I thought he meant someone from Scotland."

Boyd vividly recalls the moment where their blagging was really put to the test: "Gav had told people we used to battle rap with D12 and we forgot. It was instant excitement and then 'Oh my god. Wait a minute... This is not good.'"

With their management and MTV both eager to see this big reunion, Silibil N' Brains found themselves at another tense crossroads. "There was no way to escape so it was a case of Bill and I doing what we do when we’re in a situation like that," says Bain. "Let’s just play jazz and see where the chips land." Amazingly, their tactic of pretending like they’d known D12 for years paid off. "By the end of the night, we were hanging out with them. It became a reality."

By this point, Boyd was so skilled in make-believe, he’d managed to fake his way into the Brit Awards, rubbing shoulders with Green Day and Snoop Dog. "That was one of my highlights," he smiles. "Tré Cool was asking me to hang out at his house when I was back in California. I was so full of confidence. I looked and sounded the part, so who was going to question it?"

While the prospect of international touring was a tricky topic to swerve ("Someone would’ve had to see our passports," says Boyd nervously), the duo’s demise actually came internally. "People think we got caught but we didn’t – I just walked away. I loved what we did in London, I just found something I loved more," says Boyd of choosing family over fame.

Ultimately, Silibil N’ Brains wrapped after a tense phone call, one that marked the end of the lies: "The weight lifted from my shoulders was insane," he admits. "There was no struggle getting back to being me."

While Bain found the identity crisis trickier to navigate, he poured the experience into his book, California Schemin', which inspired McAvoy’s movie. "It was extremely hard for me. I stayed in character for another two or three years." It was only after the passing of a close friend that Bain decided to come clean: "It was a real wake up moment. People deserved to know the truth."

Cut to 2026 and while Silibil N’ Brains may be gone, Boyd and Bain remain creatively active. Both produced new music for McAvoy’s film, with Boyd prepping the June release of his own book What About Really?, telling his side of the story. Together, they hope their journey inspires new generations to defy the odds – although, maybe not quite to the same extent.

"I want people to be inspired and think, 'Maybe I can do it'," suggests Boyd on what he hopes audiences take away from California Schemin'. "If they pushed it, maybe we can knock down those barriers too."

Bain echoes the sentiment: "I want people to walk away thinking 'That thing I’ve always wanted to do? I’m going to go for it'. That’s what I’d love to see."

California Schemin’ is now showing in UK cinemas. Billy Boyd's Everyone Has A Story To Tell and Gavin Bain's California Schemin' are both available now on Spotify.

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