A Career in Motion: Inside Pilot Bunch’s Hollywood Evolution
At just 19 years old, Pilot Bunch has already built the kind of résumé that suggests both remarkable range and even greater ambition. From prestige dramas and beloved television series to blockbuster features and Netflix's upcoming comedy Little Brother, his career has unfolded with an ease that belies the discipline behind it. Yet despite sharing the screen with industry heavyweights like John Cena, Michelle Monaghan, and Eric André, Bunch remains refreshingly grounded, choosing to sharpen his craft both on set and in the classroom at SCAD.
As he prepares for the release of Little Brother, we sat down with the rising actor to talk about navigating Hollywood at a young age, embracing creative curiosity, and why longevity—not momentum— is the career he's ultimately chasing.
At 19, you've already survived zombies, family dysfunction, small-town dramas, and now a comedy with John Cena and Eric André. Which set felt the most chaotic—and which felt the most like home?
I feel like the set that felt most like home was Little Brother. Every day I was with two of my best friends making movies. It was long nights, late hangouts, and exploring the adventure that is being a teenager together. The most chaotic would also be Little Brother. Every day was something new — a crazy new gag, an insane stunt, somebody's flying through a window - I mean, you never knew!
In Little Brother, you're playing the son of John Cena and Michelle Monaghan. What was the most unexpected thing you learned from watching them work up close that had nothing to do with acting?
With Michelle, I had a few long talks with her about the other side of the industry, in terms of producing and spearheading a show. I learned a lot about what it takes to even get something off the ground. It was my first look into pre-production. She was kind enough to take the time to sit with my questions and explain certain things that I was curious about, and it taught me things that I had previously been ignorant of. With John, I learned about the importance of taking your breaks when you get them and resting when you can. He taught me about things that helped him through his career and lessons that he'd learned. We did this through trading questions with each other. He would ask me a question that he'd want to know about my generation, or about me, or what it's like through my experience in the craft and then I would ask him my own questions. I'd asked about lessons he's learned that might help me, or advice he thought was beneficial. Each day I would come back to set with entire handwritten papers for him. I absolutely loved it. Both Michelle and John were so kind and had so much patience. They simply could not have engaged with me more. And I think that's something else I learned being treated like that, on a set with people that I look up to so deeply shows me how I want to act when I'm in their position.
You've worked on projects ranging from The Walking Dead to The Righteous Gemstones. Do you find yourself attracted to characters who fit neatly into a story, or the ones who seem determined to disrupt it?
I feel like all characters fit neatly into their own stories. However, in terms of characters that I like to play, I definitely enjoy disruptive ones. That's where the fun is. The fun isn't within coloring in the lines. The fun is beyond those lines, and what you can create with all that empty space.
That's where the beauty is, that's where the pain is, that's where the things that capture the imagination are.
I will say that even if a character is at first glance "normal" or "uninteresting" you haven't looked hard enough. Each and every character has their own lines that they break, and it's figuring out what those are that is part of the fun. I love to play characters that are far outside of the lines, but the fun also comes with those who aren't, and finding what lines they're willing to break.
A lot of young actors talk about wanting longevity, but you've already built a résumé that spans multiple genres. Was there ever a moment when you consciously decided, "l don't want to be known for just one thing"?
For any actor, the one thing you don't want is to be pigeonholed into one certain thing. That takes away the entire point of the craft and what we do. The reason we love this is that we get to live so many different lives; we get to experience life in so many ways. We get to test ourselves with each one of the characters we play. To be confined to one genre or one type of role is honestly purgatory, because it strips you of all the opportunities to experience those other lives, mindsets, and struggles. It robs you of the privilege of being able to play and explore. Aside from everything else, I think that is the biggest reason why I'm an actor. So I think from the very beginning, I never wanted to be known for one thing or confined to one type of character. I feel like that goes into my daily life as well. I do so many different things, I have so many different arts that I'm interested in and participate in. I don't confine myself to one certain thing.
You've spent much of your career acting alongside performers with wildly different styles— from dramatic actors to comedians. Has anyone completely changed the way you think about performance?
This question brings one specific person to mind. Walton Goggins (Righteous Gemstones) completely changed my perspective on performance. Growing up, I always thought it went director, then actor— it's a director's set, and you're just living in it, which is true to some extent. But watching Walton opened my eyes to the fact that there's so much power that actors hold that is totally overlooked. Watching him was like watching a wizard at work. He commanded that entire set, and when he stepped on, it was as though the room stood still. Anything that moved, moved because he made it move. It was a master class in instinct and trusting your ability.
In terms of his process, Walton was in character from the moment he stepped on set to the very last cut. Even between scenes and lunch, when he would speak to people, it was low, still in that voice of Baby Billy, and until that very last cut, he was in it. Nothing could pull him out. And it was just absolutely liberating, because you hear about all of this as an actor and you think, "Oh my gosh, I wish I could do that." And when you watch it happen, you realize: “Wow, I can.” Watching him absolutely changed my entire perspective on what being an actor is and the power that we hold when it comes to creation.
If someone watched only one project from your filmography to understand who you are as an actor right now, would it be Little Brother— or is there another role that feels more representative of where you're headed?
There are two projects I would point people to. One would be TASK on HBO, and the other would be Run Amok with Molly Ringwald and Patrick Wilson, directed by N.B. Mager, which premiered at the Sundance Film Festival this year. Those are two of my proudest projects and ones that are telling of my work and training.
Growing up in the industry often means growing up in public. What's something about becoming an adult actor that turned out to be very different from what you imagined when you were younger?
It's interesting, because you hear a lot about the horror stories of being a child actor. And some of it's true, and some of it isn't. I'm fortunate enough to be able to say I've been very lucky with the way I've grown up in this industry— with people that support me, keep me safe, and keep my head screwed on tight.
I think the biggest culture shock I've experienced is just the logistics behind it all— what makes an actor's career take off, what are the things that push you to the next step. Just all of the little things that go on behind the curtain! I feel like growing up, you think, "Oh, I just have to do a few auditions, and then I get one, and it's all over, and I'm set for life." It doesn't happen like that. In reality, it's a very slow, tedious, incremental process. With each audition, you're learning, training, coaching, and you never stop. You can’t.
Another thing is just learning how to navigate the business side of it all. As a kid, you grow up thinking you know how this works, and then you realize there's a lot more to it— communicating with your team and planning things out - all the different kinds of various skills you have to learn.
Laruicci pants (right)
Comedy often looks effortless when it's done well. Working alongside people like John Cena and Eric André, what did you discover about the mechanics behind making something genuinely funny?
I feel like one of the biggest things I learned is that it takes a team of open-minded people to make something genuinely funny. On set, there are so many people going into making these jokes work— Eric brings it all to the table, and there's an entire team of people sorting through it, going "this works, this doesn't." Each and every person's laugh is a point toward putting a joke in the film or taking one out. It's all about feeling it out together.
And then, of course, timing. You hear it all the time, "comedic timing, comedic timing", but truly, it is so important. One second could mean the failure or the success of a joke. I also believe it takes trust. You have to be comfortable with each other. I feel like that's a big part of why comedy is where it is today, because there's a constant pressure to second-guess yourself. Everybody has an opinion, and no one fully trusts each other because the moment something comes out of your mouth, it's going to be under a magnifying glass. On set, Eric and John brought everything, but the only way they're able to do that is because they're around people they trust and who understand their craft. It's communication, making sure everybody is comfortable, and then pushing the envelope.
You've worked in worlds populated by monsters, superheroes, televangelists, and now a complicated family comedy. Which fictional universe would you willingly move into for a year—and which would you leave immediately?
I feel like the safe answer for moving in for a year would be Little Brother or TASK. I think those are the safest in terms of my characters. As for the one I would leave immediately? Although I think I could hold my own for a little in The Walking Dead, I think that would be the one I would leave. Mostly because of the pain of watching the people around me pass and going through such horrible fates. I think that's the most painful thing.
Many actors spend years trying to land the kind of projects you've already experienced. Do you ever feel pressure to keep topping the last opportunity, or are you more focused on surprising yourself?
It's never about topping it or trying to do better. I feel like that's impossible because topping it is subjective, you know, booking a bigger movie, making more money, this or that. Topping it for me could be getting off a feature film and then going to shoot a short with a group of truly special people, and that short could top every project I've ever done. Who knows. Nobody knows.
What has been on my side, most of all, is luck. I'm very lucky and very appreciative of what I've been able to do. And it's very much been me almost blindfolding myself in terms of looking at where it could go, what I can book, and just auditioning and auditioning. If you try to plan it all out, it's never going to work. You physically can't. There's no way to plan anything in this industry because it's absolutely unstable. You have no clue when the next job is going to hit, and you never know when it's going to run dry or drown you. I feel like my pressure is: Am I doing better in each audition I put in? Am I delivering consistently good work? That's my pressure. Whether I book it or not up to me— it's up to the universe, and whether I fit the role or not. The thing I can control is that I'm putting in good work and I'm focused on what I need to do. That is my pressure.
Looking back at your earliest work, what is something that the younger version of you did instinctively that you now try not to lose as your craft becomes more refined?
I feel like with anything, it's returning to the childlike innocence you have when you first start out. You don't know how to do something, so you have no rules. Instinctively, I always brought extremely big performances. Now I try to balance that, because the greatest performances, the greatest art, is reached not when more is added on, but when there is nothing left to take away.
I'm making sure that when I'm auditioning or on set, I'm experimenting, I'm creating, putting ideas out there, and then going back and refining instead of thinking, "What does this need? What should this be? How do they want to see this?" Nobody knows what they want to see. It's your job as an actor to bring options and let them decide. That's something I did very well when I was younger, and that I'm trying to keep prominent as I learn more and more about this craft.
Hollywood is constantly searching for the "next generation" of stars. As someone often included in that conversation, what do you think people misunderstand most about young actors working today?
In today's world, I feel like something a lot of people misunderstand is that there's a lot more competition, but there's also a lot more accessibility— with streaming, social media, all of that. But it gets to a point where it's overwhelming, and you feel frozen, because everybody is telling you, "You have this phone in your hand, you should film this, film that, do this, do that." And you start to, but then you get so overwhelmed with everything going on around you. There are so many choices, so many outlets that it's honestly mind-boggling. Additionally, one of the biggest struggles now is that you can't just be one thing anymore. When movies were first growing in fame, you could just be an actor. That's all you had to be. You were just focused on your craft. Now, you can't just be an actor. You have to be a full-time social media manager, content creator, and influencer because if you don't, you're going to get washed away. You have to have so many different things to build yourself in this industry, because it's not just the acting industry anymore. It's a double-edged sword.
A lot of people think social media is this great thing, and it is to a point, but it's also killing our generation at the same time. And so much of humanity is being cut out of what we do now. As actors, we used to go in person and interact with casting directors, and it was a very human job. Now it's all self-tapes sent into a void of technology. Even chemistry reads are done over Zoom, and it's hard to have chemistry with anyone over a computer. As a job where the entire point is to interact with the people around you, it's very interesting. I'm grateful for it because it makes life easier, but something has been lost. I mean, we are fighting for our craft against the mass of Al as we speak. We are competing with something that isn't human.
If your career so far were arranged like a photo album rather than a résumé, what would be the image that perfectly captures this chapter of your life, and why?
I feel like the picture that would describe my life right now would be of me with my janky self-tape setup, with one of my friends graciously helping me run for auditions. Right now, I have so much success, but at the same time, I'm constantly working for the next thing.
In terms of a career photo, I think a picture of me and the Run Amok cast at Sundance would be the most telling. Sundance was a really telling sign for me that I'm on the path I want to be on, that the work does pay off, and that dreams do come true. That was one of the most special moments of my career. My mother had always wanted to see one of our movies at Sundance, and Run Amok and my cast had the privilege of going to the very last, proper, Sundance ever. I think for career, the photo would be me and the cast on the carpet at Sundance, or in the theater chairs holding hands as we watched our movie together.
You've already built a résumé that many actors spend decades pursuing, yet you've chosen to attend SCAD. What made you decide that there were still things a classroom could teach you that a film set couldn't?
I feel like I'm extremely lucky with the résumé I've built. Even so, you never stop learning. I have the opportunity to go to college, which most people would do anything for, and I feel as though it would be unwise of me not to take advantage of this opportunity while I am not working. Then I found SCAD, I was ecstatic. They were the only university that I found that was willing and able to give me the flexibility to work. SCAD is all about preparing students for creative professions; that means I can keep developing my craft in the classroom while gaining real-world experience on set.
SCAD gives me the ability to experience the world on my own in a safe place, to create in a safe place, make mistakes in a safe place, and learn from them. That's one thing you can't do in the real world, because at that point, people are depending on you to deliver a certain level of product - there's a lot more expectation, far more guidelines, and far more obstacles. But when you're in school, that is your place to create and make mistakes and find your style and discover what you love to do.
Also, one of the biggest reasons I chose to go to college is because of the people I'll meet who I'll be able to work with later in life. I'm creating the circle of collaborators that I will be making movies with for years. And SCAD gets you ready to walk onto sets, and into writing rooms, and productions with a foundation. SCAD even has a huge new backlot and soundstages that we get to shoot short films on. I have begun building that in my career, and at SCAD, I get to refine it. I get to refine my craft at SCAD and carve it into something I will be proud of for years to come.
Going from a Netflix premiere one week to a college classroom the next isn't exactly a typical student experience. How does being at SCAD influence the way you approach acting— and does being a working actor change the way you experience school?
With my career, life becomes somewhat unorthodox. So yes, not exactly a typical student experience. However, SCAD makes it work. The beauty of SCAD is that they thrive on that. They take the unorthodox and give it a schedule, a routine, so it becomes somewhat normal. It lets me have consistency that you don't have in this career, which is beautiful.
It lets me split the line between being a working professional and just a regular kid. At the same time, being who I am and where I come from, the way I approach school is just like going to work. And one of the best parts of SCAD is that I'm working with people who have worked in this industry, and are working in this industry while they're teaching you.
A lot of these professors I could theoretically be working with next week. One of the biggest reasons I'm at SCAD is because a professor was a producer on one of my films which showed the faculty is serious about their students being on set and doing what they love. SCAD is building a foundation of knowledge I need on sets - things I haven't learned yet, mistakes I've made that I'll now carry through my career. It's a beautiful exchange.
Walking into a professional-level classroom feels like walking onto a set, but I still have the space to be a kid, create, and do what I love. I can make mistakes, learn from them, and turn them into something positive. That's what makes it so amazing.
Credits:
Talent: Pilot Bunch
PhotoBook Editor-In-Chief: Alison Hernon
PhotoBook Creative Director + Photographer + Producer: Mike Ruiz
Fashion Stylist: Alison Hernon at Exclusive Artists
Groomer: Jason Linkow
Fashion Stylist Interns: Emma Green, Maya Merante
Tearsheets by Daniel López, Art Director, PhotoBook Magazine
Interview by Brighton Kelley, Contributor, PhotoBook Magazine
Location- Rawhide NYC