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6 Things I Learned Making “Our Pet Nicolas Cage”

Updated: Jun 23

Years ago, we made a sketch called Our Pet Nicolas Cage. I wrote it for Matt Girdwain, Justin Davidson, Andrew Skalak, and Sarah Baxter. It was chaotic, weird, and maybe trying to do too much — but it had one core idea:


What if Nicolas Cage said real Nicolas Cage lines — but in a domestic setting where he’s your pet?


That’s it. That’s the sketch.


I forgot until recently that the entire reason I played a bee was so Matt could scream “Not the bees!” — one of Cage’s most iconic, unhinged moments from The Wicker Man. In retrospect, that was the premise. And everything else, including me being a literal bee, was built around honoring the holy chaos of Cage-isms.


Here’s what I learned from making it:


1. A Good Idea Can Get Buried Under Too Much Stuff


At its core, this sketch worked: Matt Girdwain is a talented impressionist, and his Nicolas Cage is so good it could’ve carried the entire bit. You might know him from Stone Cold ET. Honestly, the sketch would've landed if we just let Matt be the pet and played it straight around him.

But I layered on too much — a bee character, a wild tone shift — and it started to feel like three sketches in one. It's like that Dana Carvey Show doc where they talk about Bill Clinton breastfeeding — just because you can push a concept doesn’t mean you should.


2. Why Did We Travel to Film This?Another example of me complicating things unnecessarily: instead of filming in Chicago, we drove three hours west to Rock Island. Not a huge distance — but still a choice. Looking back, it worked for the house and setting, and I wasn’t fully situated in Chicago yet, so Rock Island felt familiar. I knew the terrain, the people, the vibe. But in hindsight, we could’ve simplified.

This is one of those decisions where the extra effort didn’t necessarily add production value — just fatigue.


Two men stand outdoors on grass, under a blue sky. One wears a shirt with Greek letters. A person in the background is mid-motion.
Justin, Matt, & Myself

3. Collaboration Was the Best Part


I met Matt at an open mic in Chicago. I saw the drive-thru pranks, the voices, the range — so I wrote for that. My roommate at the time, Justin Davidson, was a former fraternity brother turned actor, and Sarah Baxter and I knew each other from theater in college. I brought in people I believed in and wanted to help shine.

Directing was Andrew Skalak — young, absurdly talented, and someone I knew would eventually outpace us all. It was a mix of creatives on the come-up, and while the sketch may have missed the mark, the collaboration felt like the win.


4. You Will Get Better (So Will Your Friends)


Andrew Skalak, who directed and shot this, has done far superior work since. I’m sure he’d be absolutely embarrassed if I shared this now, but honestly? I truly believe his floor as a filmmaker might be my ceiling. I’ve always been impressed by his work. Watching his eye, his framing, his instincts... it made me want to level up everything: writing, acting, editing. You only get better by being around people who challenge you — people who make you want to bring more to the table.

Working with someone like that made me want to elevate all facets of my storytelling game. It’s like being a good wrestler and then getting in the ring with someone who's a Muay Thai expert — you suddenly want to get better at striking. You realize there are levels to everything.

That’s what this project gave me. It exposed me to those levels. And everyone involved was leveling up: Justin went on to book modeling and acting gigs, Sarah was building her résumé, Matt kept performing. The sketch itself wasn’t perfect — but the people in it were all moving forward.


5. Don’t Try to Be the Funniest One in the Room

This was the biggest takeaway: I didn’t need to do so much. Matt’s Cage was enough. He committed. He was the sketch. What we needed was for everyone else — including me — to play it straight.

Instead, I added characters. Tried to punch up lines. Made choices that undercut the grounded absurdity of the premise. The sketch would’ve hit harder if I just supported what was already working.

Lesson learned: when someone’s delivering gold, your job is to hold the bucket.


There’s a difficult learning curve between taste and talent. Sometimes you have the vision for what something could be, but not the skill (yet) to get it there.

That’s okay.

You make it anyway. You shoot it. You learn from it. And you carry those lessons into the next one. 6. It Reflected the Internet Sketch Era We Were In


Looking back, Our Pet Nicolas Cage was very much a product of its time. This was when internet sketch comedy was messy, fast, and full of big swings. YouTube was full of characters yelling in living rooms, abrupt edits, and chaotic energy. Everyone was trying to make their own Tim & Eric or get on the front page of Funny or Die  — and we were no different.

In that context, the sketch kind of made sense. It wasn’t about polish. It was about making something, uploading it, and hoping it found an audience. So yeah — the bee costume, the weird character names, the screaming... it fits the era. I miss that era of internet comedy.

Nick Cage - Matt Girdwain

Muhammad/Gary the Bee - Gary Miller

Charlie - Justin Davidson

Sarah - Sarah Baxter

 

Written by Gary Miller

Directed by Andrew Skalak



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