Exclusive Interview: Matt Drago on Building Meaningful Art, Human Connection, and the Heart of ‘Somewhere in Montana’

Stories have the power to bridge divides, spark reflection, and remind us of our shared humanity—and few films embody that spirit quite like Somewhere in Montana. Set against the sweeping landscapes of rural Montana, the film centers on an unlikely connection between a struggling rancher fighting to preserve his family’s land and a passionate filmmaker determined to bring an important story to life. What begins as a clash of opposing worlds slowly unfolds into a deeply human exploration of empathy, legacy, and the courage it takes to truly listen to one another.

At the heart of that journey is Fabian, portrayed by Matt Drago, a storyteller carrying the weight of ambition, responsibility, and the urgency of leaving something meaningful behind. Fabian arrives with creative dreams that collide with tradition, yet through vulnerability and perseverance, he becomes a bridge between two vastly different perspectives. Matt Drago brings a layered authenticity to the role, grounding Fabian’s passion in heart and humanity, making his evolution feel both intimate and resonant.

Pop Culturalist sat down with Matt Drago to dive into the collaborative spirit behind Somewhere in Montana and the lessons the film’s themes of connection and resilience have carried into his own creative mission.

PC: Somewhere in Montana is a film that’s going to spark so many meaningful conversations. When a project like this comes across your desk, what’s the first thing that grabs your attention and makes you want to be a part of it?
Matt: It’s about meeting the moment. That’s something I’ve always aspired to do. Storytelling—and collaboration within storytelling—are so important, now more than ever. If you had asked four-year-old Matt what he dreamed of doing as an actor, it would have been to change the world.

As we grow up, life has a way of challenging that dream. You encounter obstacles along the path, and sometimes that idealism can fade. But that part of me has always remained. I’ve felt the power of storytelling deep within my soul since I was a child, and it’s something I continue to fight for again and again—so that moments like this can manifest into reality.

PC: You can feel that passion through your performance. Speaking of collaboration, this was such a unique one—especially since writer-director Brandon Smith wrote so much of himself into your character. What was that process like, honoring what he put on the page while also finding where the character lived within you and making it your own through your creative process?
Matt: That was honestly one of my favorite parts of the entire experience. When you have a collaborator like Brandon, who felt such a deep need to tell this story and was putting so many pieces together behind the scenes, it really becomes something special. You have to remember that actors are often the last piece of the puzzle—and he fought so hard to bring this film and story to life.

We would get on Zoom calls, like we’re doing right now, and once he granted me the role, we went scene by scene, line by line, beat by beat. It was a truly incredible process that I’ll cherish forever because we were discovering it together. That’s what made it so special. It wasn’t me coming in saying, “This is how Fabian should be played,” or Brandon saying, “This is exactly how I wrote Fabian.” It was an effortless, collaborative journey where we found the character together. That kind of experience doesn’t happen on every project.

As actors, we know that sometimes you’re brought in as a guest star or supporting role and don’t always have months—or even a year—to prepare. But I did for this one. It felt important to really understand what Brandon wanted from the character, and the parts of himself he had woven into Fabian. He actually wrote elements of himself into both lead characters—John, played by Graham McTavish, and Fabian, played by me.

I’ll always be grateful for that level of trust and collaboration because it reflected how Brandon envisioned the film coming together. He wanted everyone to feel like they were part of it—that it was their film too. You don’t always get that with every creator. I give Brandon, producer Eden Matson, and producer Joe Borden so much credit. We all bought in early and became a family telling this story. I always say it starts from the top down—they gave us the platform to make something truly special.

PC: That’s one of the benefits of indie filmmaking—it feels far more collaborative than a studio environment, where decisions often have to go through so many layers. It’s why we get such meaningful pieces of art. Speaking of the two leads, John and Fabian begin the film with opposing viewpoints, but over time they learn to appreciate and respect one another. That evolution feels especially resonant given the world we’re living in today. How did you and Graham approach building that dynamic and exploring that shift in their relationship, particularly during those emotionally charged moments halfway through the story?
Matt: That’s a great question. I actually hadn’t met Graham until I showed up on set, which always comes with a bit of trepidation—wondering how you’re going to connect as people and collaborators. Our first meeting was pretty unique. I was feeling a little tickle in my throat and thinking, “I can’t get sick—I’m here for seven weeks,” while Graham was only there for two. So I stopped at the local Walgreens, and Eden Matson, our producer, had just picked Graham up from the airport and made the exact same stop.

It almost encapsulates the film in a way—how these two people find each other. That’s actually the first photo I ever took with Graham, right there in Walgreens.

The moment I met him, all of my fears completely melted away. Graham is a true collaborator, and we became fast friends. We started having really meaningful conversations about how two opposing forces—two alpha-type personalities—would finally break the ice in a way that felt conversational, authentic, and not overly precious. We talked it through over dinners, breakfasts, and drinks, figuring out how these two very different people, with very different energies, could find a way to truly listen to each other.

And I think that’s one of the hardest things in our society today—we’re not listening. In many ways, we’re not even around each other anymore. Once you break past the screen and exist in the same space, real connection can happen. That’s what I fell in love with in the script—especially that ten-page scene, which you rarely see in modern cinema. It’s simply a conversation between two polar opposites, slowly opening the door to understanding.

One of the best things Brandon did was avoid a typical “Hollywood ending.” They don’t walk away as best friends. They’re still two very different people—but now they understand that there’s more connecting them than dividing them.

I’ll share a quick moment from set that really drove that message home for me. We shot on an active cattle ranch in Polson, Montana, and became close with the owners. One day, David, the ranch owner, was on set with us. I’ve been a meat eater my whole life, and I understand the sacrifices people make so others don’t have to. It was a sunny day, and I could see how much he cared about his ranch and the cattle.

I looked at him and asked, “David, how do you do this?”

You have to understand—he’s a Montana rancher. He keeps his emotions very internal, unlike me. But for the first time, I saw him get emotional. He looked up at the sun and said, “It’s still hard.”

In that moment, I realized that’s the story we’re telling. There’s more that connects us than divides us—but we have to let each other in. In short, we need each other.

That’s what feels missing right now. We won’t always agree, and we never will, but we still need one another. The heart of this film is about finding a way to move past our differences and recognize that connection matters more than division.

PC: Beautifully said. Your character faces so much adversity in the film, and he credits Frank as the person who took a chance on him. Who have been the people in your own life who’ve helped guide you on this path? Did you find yourself reflecting on their influence during this process?
Matt: First and foremost, it’s been my wife, Laura. We took a huge chance moving out to L.A. We grew up in a small town in Virginia, three blocks away from each other, but didn’t meet until we were in a twelve-person acting class. We found each other in the most unexpected way.

I studied for two and a half years with an incredible acting teacher, Terry Schreiber, who was the person who really nudged me to try L.A. So we took a road trip and a big risk. We didn’t have jobs. We barely had a place to live—we were crashing on someone’s couch. You hear that story sometimes, but we literally stayed in a spare room that belonged to a friend’s grandfather for three months.

A couple of months in, we looked at each other one day and said, “This is home now.” I remember Laura saying it so clearly: “Yeah, this is home now.”

She’s always been my biggest advocate, and it helps that she’s a creative too. Laura is a writer, an actress, and went to Tisch. Our worlds have always existed as this incredible partnership that kept us afloat, because the creative life is hard—especially when you don’t have connections. Sometimes you have to fight a little harder, but when you earn something, it feels that much more meaningful. It makes you hungrier.

To think that the girl who lived three blocks away from me in my hometown would become my partner in life and in this creative journey—it’s one of the most precious things in my world.

I’d also say my parents. I grew up in a dojo—my dad is a sensei, an eighth-degree black belt, and ran a dojo in our hometown of Front Royal, Virginia, for decades. Karate taught me so much about self-reflection. We practiced Okinawan Shōrin-ryū, which is very old school. It’s not about trophies or competition—it’s about personal growth and discipline.

That mindset supported me as an actor because it taught me that the black belt isn’t the destination. You’re always practicing. You’re always trying to improve. It acknowledges achievement, but it’s really a lifelong journey. My dad gave me that perspective.

My mom handled all the nuts and bolts—driving me to regional and community theater, voice lessons, acting classes. She put so many miles on those cars just to support me.

There’s one moment I don’t talk about often, but it was really important in my life. When I was about seven or eight years old, I was doing a local production of The King and I. At the time, I was getting more into baseball and karate. I made it to callbacks, but I looked at my mom and said, “I don’t think I want to do this.”

I assumed she’d push me—like, “But we came all this way, it’s a callback.” Instead, she just asked, “Are you sure?”

I said, “Yeah, Mom. Can we just go home? Maybe go get lunch?”

And she said, “Okay, Matt.”

I still tear up thinking about it, because what she gave me in that moment was space. She let me step away for a couple of years. And when I missed it, I came back to acting—and I never looked back.

PC: You were meant to be a storyteller. I think it’s such an interesting parallel when you talk about perseverance and resilience—qualities that also live within this character, who I know has made a meaningful impact on your life. What are the lessons you took away from Fabian’s journey that have become part of the ethos and mission behind your own production company?
Matt: That’s incredibly insightful. Fabian was one of those roles where sometimes you don’t immediately understand why a part comes into your life—why it feels like a blessing. This industry is a competition. You do the work, you put it out there, and then you have to let it go. That’s one of the hardest parts of being an actor.

But every now and then, there’s a role that comes along that you hope for—not just because you want it professionally, but because you feel it might teach you something in your own life. Like there’s a lesson you’re meant to learn.

Fabian is the ultimate fighter. He’s the captain of his own ship, and he’s willing to go down with it if he has to. What I really wanted people to understand about him is that he cares deeply—not just about himself, but about everyone around him. He carries the weight of the world and the responsibility of storytelling, and he feels that sense of urgency, like time is running out and legacy matters.

So much of Somewhere in Montana is rooted in the idea of legacy. You have two very contrasting ones—the ranch in Montana, and this filmmaker trying to say something meaningful through his work. For me, this role continues to leave an imprint. It’s one of those characters that stays with you long after the project ends.

I’ve had incredible acting teachers over the years, this was the first time I fully committed to a method approach. Method acting is a powerful way to immerse yourself in a character, even though it sometimes gets a bad reputation. I was fortunate to learn from the best—Terry was friends with Lee Strasberg—and the approach is really about grounding yourself as you are, while also grounding yourself in the character, allowing the two to merge.

From that, you start discovering little things—asking, “How do I feel about this?” or “How does he feel about this?” Can I bring part of myself into the character? Can I learn something from him? It opens the floodgates to creativity and imagination.

I love writing backstories and really understanding where a character is in the moment we first meet them. We don’t see the before or the after—we only experience that hour and forty-five minutes captured on screen. Doing that work informs every interaction, so when I’m opposite Graham McTavish, Michelle Hurd, or Michael Monks, I can let go and fully live in the moment.

All of that foundation rises to the surface—and that’s where the magic really happens.

To keep up with Matt, follow him on Instagram. Somewhere in Montana is in select theaters now.

Photo Credit: Beth Hawks (Mariposa Pictures)