We caught up with the brilliant and insightful Christopher Madden a few weeks ago and have shared our conversation below.

Christopher, thanks for taking the time to share your stories with us today If you could go back in time do you wish you had started your creative career sooner or later?

I didn’t get into any formal creative performance until I was in my 30s. Growing up, I made video sketches with friends and family and even created a fake radio show with my sister. I’d edit together tapes using two camcorders, a VHS player, and a RadioShack soundboard. But none of this felt like creativity to me—it was just fun. As I got older, I never saw myself as a creative person. That was a story I told myself often, and one that my teachers seemed to reinforce.

In grade school and high school, I was in a few plays, but I remember my performances being underwhelming. I even had a teacher ask me, “Can you do it again, but actually act this time?” That moment stuck with me, and the belief that I wasn’t creative solidified in my mind throughout my youth.

When I went to college, I pursued mechanical engineering, driven by a need for job security. Growing up without a lot of financial stability, my priority was to secure a stable career, not to explore creativity. I even worked at the tutoring center, and when a teacher asked if I’d like to tutor writing or math, I chose math without hesitation. I thought, “I’m an engineer—I can’t write.” That mentality followed me through grad school as I pursued a master’s in mechanical engineering.

During that time, I struggled with concentration. I poured effort into hobbies like building my personal website but couldn’t focus on my work. I didn’t realize at the time that what I needed was a creative outlet. My partner at the time was a struggling actress, and we moved to NYC for her to pursue her dream. It was easy for me to say, “She’s the creative one, not me.” I was working as a bridge engineer when a friend of mine, also an engineer, started taking improv classes at Upright Citizens Brigade. He encouraged me to join, but I thought, “That’s for real creative people, not me.”

Years later, after a breakup and a move to Boston, I found myself alone in a new city, looking for ways to meet people. Someone recommended I try improv at ImprovBoston as a way to make friends. That class was life-changing for me. For the first time, I was given permission to be creative. Although my early improv wasn’t great, it was the first time I could explore that creative space, and I became hooked. Classes turned into shows, which turned into teams and concept shows.

When I got a mechanical engineering job opportunity in LA, I thought maybe I could pursue creativity in a meaningful way. Shortly after moving, a friend asked me to work on his 48-hour film project, which was another huge step for me. Even though I had years of experience with video editing and graphic design, I never thought of myself as a filmmaker. Since then, I’ve made nine short films and just completed my first festival run, with screenings at five festivals across the US.

Now, creativity is a big part of my life. While I don’t make money from it—in fact, I often lose money—I feel more fulfilled and more like my true self. Looking back, I wish I had started sooner. I regret not taking classes at UCB when I lived in NYC, and I wish someone had given me permission to be creative earlier in life. I think it’s important for everyone to be reminded that we are all inherently creative—it’s human nature. Everyone is capable of art; sometimes, we just need permission to explore it. That is a big part of why I host my bi-weekly musical improv jam. I like to make spaces for people without any experience to explore their creativity and try something challenging.

Great, appreciate you sharing that with us. Before we ask you to share more of your insights, can you take a moment to introduce yourself and how you got to where you are today to our readers.

My brand, The Manager’s Special, is an independent production focused on creating comedy short films and sketches that are a blend of heartfelt storytelling, surreal moments, and over-the-top humor. Over the years, I’ve produced a range of short films and comedy sketches under this banner, with some of my work earning awards and recognition at festivals. One project I’m especially proud of is my short film He’s Not Bryan, a comedy about a mistaken identity at a coffee shop that spirals into unexpected consequences. This film won several awards and was featured in five festivals.

In addition to filmmaking, I’ve hosted a podcast called Unlocking the Cage, where I reviewed every film starring Nicolas Cage. During the pandemic, I also hosted Virtual Improv, a live Twitch stream where performers improvised using a unique interface that allowed them to control their video windows and perform actions within the stream—creating a whole new way to enjoy live comedy remotely.

Currently, I continue to perform and produce improv shows in Los Angeles. I’m part of an improv duo where we play two washed-up Vegas crooners, which gives me the chance to blend character work with improvisation in a really fun and interactive way. I’m also working on a B-horror comedy about a woman who processes her grief by being sucked into a B-horror movie—a project that’s really exciting as it lets me combine my love for genre films with comedy.

At the core of everything I create, whether it’s a film, a sketch, or live improv, is a desire to connect with people through laughter. I aim to make comedy that resonates with audiences on a deeper level, mixing heart with the absurd, and ultimately leaving people with something memorable. I want my audience to feel like they’ve experienced something unique, and I think that’s what sets my work apart.

What can society do to ensure an environment that’s helpful to artists and creatives?

I believe the most important thing society can do to support creativity is to give people the freedom to be creative. We live in a system where financial burdens on the less wealthy continue to grow, while wealth is concentrated at the top. Creativity thrives when people have the stability in their lives to stop worrying about survival and focus on the subtle, often overlooked aspects of life—the things you can’t pay attention to when you’re just trying to get by.

The romanticized idea of the “starving artist” may seem inspiring, but in reality, it’s a fantasy. If you look at the entertainment industry today, many successful actors or creatives came from wealth or were connected to successful individuals from the start. To truly support a thriving creative ecosystem, we need better social systems that allow everyone the space to explore their creativity. This means universal healthcare, affordable housing, and accessible education. By ensuring these basic needs are met, we give people the chance to tap into their creative potential without the constant pressure of just trying to survive.

What do you find most rewarding about being a creative?

The most rewarding part of being a creative is when I feel connected to something larger than myself. Human existence, at its core, is a creative act, and the act of creating is simply practicing being human. In other words, art imitates life. I’m constantly inspired by the incredible possibilities that emerge through collaborative creative efforts. There’s something magical about working with others to bring ideas to life, knowing that what we create together has the potential to resonate with others in meaningful ways.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://beacons.ai/crispymadden
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/crispymadden
• Other: https://filmfreeway.com/ChrisMadden