Bullets, Biceps & Big Explosions
Contributed by Bradford James Jackson,
Bradford Jackson Films
I’ve always loved big, explosive, over-the-top '80s action movies—the kind that made you want to chug a raw egg, throw on a headband, and sprint through the woods with your favorite stick that looks like a fake M16 while humming the Mission Impossible theme song. So naturally, being a Soldier and filmmaker, I decided it was about time I made a movie just like that.
Let's rewind to 2018. I had just won Best Actor at the Beverly Hills Film Festival, and with it was supposed to be my big break. Studio auditions started rolling in—Marvel films, hit TV shows, meetings with Warner Bros., Sony, Paramount. I received callback after callback. But something still felt off. One night, sitting in my L.A. apartment, I glanced at an old photo of my grandfather—a WWII veteran with nearly 40 years in government service. A lifetime of sacrifice. And it hit me—a lot of the men in my family had served something bigger than themselves. My dad? Airborne Ranger. My brothers? One Marine, one Army EOD. Me? I was chasing auditions in Hollywood, hoping to land the next big role.
They had something I didn’t—selfless service. The kind that puts country and duty above everything else. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized I wanted that too. My wife and I packed up, left L.A. in the rearview, and moved back to Alaska. In 2020, I did something that shocked my agents, my friends—hell, even my family. I joined the military.
Six months later, I shipped out to Basic Training. After spending nearly, a year away from my family, I came home and was stationed in the Alaska Army National Guard. I didn’t quit filmmaking, though. I just shifted focus. I co-founded Film Rant, a non-profit dedicated to elevating the quality of Alaska filmmaking. We host film events every year, raffle off gear, offer educational courses, travel to remote villages, and help Alaskan filmmakers tell their stories. Serving my country and my community has been something I have always wanted to do more of. But even after all that, something was still missing.
I knew it was time to start making movies again. But how does a grizzled Alaskan Soldier, who walked away from Hollywood, jump back into the director’s chair? Simple. You make an over-the-top '80s action comedy so full of testosterone and adrenaline that it makes that dude who was on the cover of the Bud Light can want to be a man again. But how would audiences react to my unapologetically macho, pro-2nd Amendment, and oozing-with-toxic-masculine-action-hero energy? Honestly? I don’t give a damn. Maybe it’s time we all remember why we started going to the movies in the first place. It wasn’t about politics. It was about sitting in a dark theater, stuffing your face with popcorn, and watching pure, high-octane entertainment. Some people will love it. Some will hate it. But here’s the thing: I’m not making movies for the ones who hate them. I’m making them for the ones who know how to sit back, relax, and just enjoy the damn ride.
If I was going to jump back into filmmaking, I wasn’t going to ease into it. I needed guns, explosions, bad guys, muscle-bound heroes, and a plot so ridiculous it belonged in an arcade game. And that’s when it clicked—Contra. If you grew up in the '80s, you know Contra—the run-and-gun, two-player, bullet-spraying masterpiece that had kids glued to their NES consoles. So, I thought, why not turn it into a short film? I had three weeks before my next big Film Rant event. That was all the time I needed. I wrote the script in one day, called in every favor I had, and went full throttle.
To make this work, I needed the best cast & crew in Alaska. 80% of the cast were Soldiers. Real Humvees, weapons, a helicopter, and explosives. A stunt team (aka my Infantry guys who already jump off stuff for fun). Muscle suits… because let’s be real, not everyone looks like Arnold Schwarzenegger. Some of us look more like his ugly brother after a long weekend at the buffet. I teamed up with my close friend Ryan Black, the Director of Photography, and in one week, we storyboarded and prepped the entire film. Then, we jumped straight into production.
We shot everything over the course of three days. I literally ran on two hours of sleep, a pack of cigars, and red, white & blue pride, baby. Day one, our lead actress bailed, and my 4-month pregnant wife had to jump into the role last minute. You crushed it, babe. Day two, action sequences, explosions, stunts, more explosions. More gunfire. More bad guys getting wrecked... and an alien. Luckily, no injuries, but I lost my voice. Pure chaos. Day three, I had to reschedule a major shoot while sitting in a hospital waiting room as my dad underwent knee surgery. That was fun. (Not really.) Back to the set—helicopters, last shots, and a whole lot of exhaustion.
Filmmaking, like life, is never easy. If you wake up thinking you’re about to do something great, something exciting—don’t expect the road to be smooth. It won’t be. It’s going to be tough. It’s going to test you. And it’s going to take work. It’s an absolute adrenaline rush, filled with ups and downs, but you know what? In the end, we crossed the finish line. Mission complete.
But just when we wrapped filming, as the music faded and the credits began to roll on that production, eight months later, the call came. Contra was officially selected for the 25th Beverly Hills Film Festival. I left Hollywood as an actor on the rise. I’m coming back as a Soldier, a filmmaker... a storyteller who creates pro-American, unapologetic, no-holds-barred, testosterone-fueled action films that remind people why we fell in love with movies in the first place. Not for politics. Not for agendas. Just pure fun. My own agenda.
So, here’s my advice: If you have a story to tell and you're afraid to tell it? Get up, work harder, and do it anyway. And don’t ever let anyone stop you.
