How I Went From No Experience to Lead Actor in an HP Commercial
- Gary Miller
- Feb 16, 2019
- 3 min read
Updated: Jun 23
You never know where your first big opportunity will come from. Mine was a small ad that aired worldwide — and it taught me a lot more than I expected.
I did a commercial in 2016 — my very first as a lead — for Hewlett Packard. It was for the HP DeskJet 3755, but the story had nothing to do with tech. It was about a grandmother and grandson preserving memories from their bakery and coffee shop. It was a tearjerker. And it wasn’t just a commercial — it was a short film disguised as an ad. I booked this commercial simply by submitting my headshot and resume to a casting call. I'm sure it was poorly formatted and my headshot was a free gift from a friend at the Atlantic Acting School. The very next day, I was on set, wide-eyed and eager, with no idea what to expect. It all happened so fast — no agent, no prep, just showing up and learning on the fly. I was an actor with my first real job in an HP Commercial.
I got to work with Mary-Jenifer Mitchell, who introduced herself to me as MJ. She's an incredibly talented actress and comedian. One of the original National Lampoon's Lemmings, she worked alongside Chevy Chase, John Belushi, Christopher Guest — absolute legends. And here I was, fresh out of college, no professional credits, zero set experience, and suddenly starring opposite her. I had no idea who she was or what to expect. She kept me on my toes all day long. She was a gift to work with.
We filmed in a small café in Longmont, Colorado. Watching the crew work was eye-opening. I saw real movie magic: dolly tracks, monitors, lighting setups I couldn’t name.
"This was happening in my home state of Colorado?" I had no idea anyone was making film. I had grown up here and never got a whiff of film. I had no clue what I was doing, but MJ put me at ease right away. Between takes, she cracked dark jokes that made me break character — in the best way. Even while she was smiling through a tear in the scene, she had that twinkle in her eye that said, “I know this is heavy, but don’t take yourself too seriously.”
That put me at ease. I had no idea what "usage" meant, or where the commercial would even be seen. I didn’t ask questions. I didn’t have an agent. I genuinely thought it would be a small national spot — like the ones I’d grown up watching between segments of Seinfeld reruns.
It ended up being international.
And I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. Zero sense of the business. No roadmap, no connections — just a willingness to show up, listen, and try to be honest on camera. That commercial didn’t just launch my career. It opened my eyes. It made me want to keep making things that matter, no matter the scale.
This was an emotionally deep story about family and community told through an ad… for a printer. And I mean this: I genuinely forget it’s about a printer when I watch it. It’s still one of my favorite things I’ve gotten to do. Two comedians, telling a story that moved people. It felt bigger than an ad.
I was working hard labor jobs at the time and doing comedy at night. I had moved back to Colorado after a rough start in Chicago — where I lived in my car for six months. I planned to be back in Chicago immediately and then I booked this commercial. When the commercial came out, right around Christmas, my family huddled around the computer to watch it. My parents teared up. My brother gave me a hug. I didn’t feel like a failure for once!
It wasn’t about being in a “big ad.” It was about making people pause. That’s still what I chase. That quiet moment — where people stop scrolling, stop talking, stop thinking about their own day — and just feel something. Maybe they smile. Maybe they tear up. Maybe they look at someone next to them and say, “That reminded me of my grandma.” Or maybe they just sit with it. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do: create moments that connect people, even for a second.
Whether it’s laughter in a theater, a gasp in a living room, or a few quiet tears around a computer screen at Christmas — those are the wins that matter.
And it started with this. A small ad with a big heart. A story about family, memory, and love — told by two comedians in a coffee shop.

Comments