We’re excited to introduce you to the always interesting and insightful Devin Mckay. We hope you’ll enjoy our conversation with Devin below.
Devin, appreciate you joining us today. Let’s talk legacy – what sort of legacy do you hope to build?
I was a big fan of shows like “Mr. Rogers Neighborhood” growing up, and his outlook on life had a significant impact on how I wanted to live mine. From that influence, I hope to build a legacy of integrity, kindness, and faith. I want to leave this world a little better than I found it, as someone who always put his best foot forward and made an effort to help others feel truly seen. I want people to believe that their goals—no matter how out there—are achievable. I’m as average as they come, but I know my worth and I lead with intention, that has taken me further than I ever imagined in this life. Anyone can do the same.
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 name is Devin McKay. I’m a producer, writer, director, and actor. My production company, Val + Vic Productions, recently released our first short film, “Don’t Cry for Me,” an adaptation of the novel by Dr. Daniel Black. My vision for the company is to share stories from unique perspectives, that challenge traditional norms, while captivating audiences with compelling narratives. I also aim to push the boundaries of what’s possible for small, independent teams and producers, which is why having this adaptation as our first project is so meaningful. I want Val + Vic to be a platform where we can tell all kinds of stories—whether original or adapted—just like the larger studios do. And I never want us to feel limited by our resources or lack thereof.
When I first started in the industry, I was chasing it hard. I had tunnel vision, focused solely on one goal: to be in those spaces I saw on TV. I remember George Clooney, in this speech I saw once, called it “grabbing the brass ring.” In my mind, getting in those rooms and receiving validation meant I had “made it.” But I never really stopped to ask myself why that mattered. I grinded for a long time. Back home in Baltimore, the film industry wasn’t booming. A big project would pass through every couple of years, but I never caught wind of them. Most of the work I did was local, smaller indie projects or corporate, but I always saw it as training for when I eventually got to work on a larger stage. When I moved to Atlanta, and landed on those bigger productions, I realized very quickly that I wasn’t enjoying the experience of being there as much as I thought I would. There wasn’t anything particularly wrong, but I wasn’t getting the fulfillment I had hoped for. I moved around a lot, trying different departments, but that sense of emptiness stayed.
The 2023 SAG strike gave me some time to reflect on my place in the industry, and I came to a big epiphany: I didn’t have one. I had lost my “why” and was essentially aimless. After some soul-searching, I rediscovered that my true passion comes from a love of people, from studying the human condition, and from how art brings us together. So, I decided to create my own space within the industry to focus on that.
Have you ever had to pivot?
Right out of high school, I got my first job as a TA, teaching theatre for a local children’s program. Theatre was my major in college, so it seemed like a natural fit. I came to find out pretty quickly that I was really good with kids, I could talk to them on their level because we liked all the same stuff. I wasn’t any more than seventeen when I started, so still a kid myself, really. That job gave me the perfect balance of work, school, and life, it gave me everything I wanted at the time. Little did I know, that first experience set the tone for what would be the next eleven years of my life. I went on to teach every grade level under the sun. Public school, private school, summer camps, special programs. From little bitty babies to college and beyond. You name it, I did it. Teaching had unintentionally become my full blown career. While I grew to love it and appreciated working in a field related to my art, there was always a nagging feeling that I was meant for more. It was like that Pocahontas song “Just Around the Riverbend” where she’s presented with two paths, one smooth and straightforward, the other more challenging. Deep down, I knew I hadn’t pushed myself enough and had bigger dreams to chase. I didn’t get into theatre to teach in a classroom; I got into Theatre to work in theaters—and eventually, I realized what I truly wanted was to work on film sets. So, I was several steps removed from my purpose altogether. To get there, I had to take a leap of faith.
So I changed my direction, I let go of teaching and essentially started over. I took one last year-long teaching gig at a middle school and used that money to fund my move. LA and New York were the biggest hubs for film, so I set my sights on LA. But, as life often does, things shifted, and I needed to be closer to home. I’m not a fan of the hustle and bustle of New York, so that wasn’t an option I wanted to pursue. That’s when Atlanta presented itself as the best alternative. It was just a two-hour flight from home, offered plenty of opportunities to work in the field, and most importantly, it was a place where people who looked like me were thriving. So here I am. None of that would have happened if I hadn’t decided to step out of my comfort zone and take a chance on myself.
What do you find most rewarding about being a creative?
The most rewarding aspect of my journey, without a doubt, has been the sense of community and collaboration. I’ve been incredibly fortunate to meet and work with so many amazing people, and I’m even luckier to call a lot of them close friends. When I first moved to Atlanta, I didn’t know anyone, but I stumbled upon an incredible filmmaking community called Kick the Ladder (KTL). Each week, filmmakers create one-minute films based on a prompt, then gather to chill, share their work, and discuss the intent behind it. It’s like if Cheers took place at a film school. We’re always helping each other out with our crazy film ideas. Many of the friends I made through KTL ended up helping with “Don’t Cry for Me,” even though it was just a passion project. They saw my enthusiasm for the story and jumped right in, offering their skills, time, and creativity without hesitation. They weren’t doing it for money or validation; but because of our mutual belief in the story and the desire to see it come to life. It’s in that kind of space where I feel the real magic happens, where the creative process becomes not just fulfilling but transformative.
Contact Info:
- Instagram: https://instagram.com/deeandjello/
- Linkedin: https://linkedin.com/in/devindmckay
- Twitter: https://x.com/deeandjello
- Other: instagram.com/valnvicproductions/
https://vimeo.com/deeandjello