Brandon T. Jackson Talks ‘Trap City’, Katt Williams, and the Highs and Lows of Hollywood

Now playing in select theaters, the gripping independent film takes viewers on an intense journey through fame, power, resilience, and redemption.

Trap City, which he refers to as a “David and Goliath story,” digs into the gritty underworld of Detroit while leaving viewers with the sentiments of a faith-based film. In this exclusive conversation with Bleu, Jackson openly walks us through his highs and lows within his career, the impact of fatherhood on his life, his thoughts on Katt Williams’ mentioning him in a now-viral interview, and why Trap City needs to be on your watchlist this season.

BLEU: First, I have to ask, how’s your standup tour going?

Jackson: It’s been going well. We’ve been going and going. We just left Albuquerque, New Mexico. I randomly have a lot of fans out there, and it was a great show.

BLEU: I love that, congrats! So, Trap City, tell me about it. I’m excited to see it. What can readers expect?

Jackson: I’ve been telling everybody this is my Hustle and Flow, except it’s a darker character. It’s dramatic—something nobody has seen from me before. I put on 20 extra pounds, changed my look, and stripped away the commercial image people associate with me. This character is underground. I didn’t want to look like the "commercial Brandon T. Jackson." I wanted to do something different.

BLEU: Tell me about the “commercial” Brandon T. Jackson.

Jackson: You know, he wears a low cut, he’s lowkey. Deshawn is more like Cartier, more trap, more underground. He has a Detroit-type vibe, even though it takes place in Atlanta. He’s that Detroit dude that goes to the studio, smokes weed. He’s like the drop boy. It’s about a man trying to survive who doesn’t have any money. But he doesn’t want to be in the trap. He wants to be a rapper, but they’re trying to get him to let that go. People want him to be like his father—who is kinda like the boss, played by Clifton Powell.

BLEU: You know, I read somewhere that your father is a pastor. Entertainment can be really worldly at times. How did that make an influence on your career?

Jackson: I always wanted to make faith-based movies. I just keep getting pulled into these mainstream films that are opposite of who I am. Actually, Trap City has a spiritual undertone. You’ll see what I mean when you watch it.

This is a faith-based film, but it's also a trap film, so it’s not picture-perfect. We show scenes in strip clubs, and there’s certain language used. But I like to reflect the reality of the world—not some 'perfect’ version of faith-based movies. The perfect world isn’t real, or if it is, it’s only real for certain niche audiences.

I want to reach the people I think Christ would go to—the ones in the slums, the ones living in lower vibrations but seeking something greater. That’s where the light goes: into the darkness.

BLEU: I think being entertained is fun but being inspired is amazing; I love when art does that. Speaking of, talk to me about Family Business: New Orleans. What’s it been like acting in it while being on the producing team?

Jackson: That's definitely Tri Destined—shout out to them! They’re the ones behind it. And, of course, Carl Weber—this is his concept and his intellectual property. But Family Business: New Orleans is a project I’m incredibly excited about. It’s honestly one of my favorite projects I’ve ever worked on. The whole set experience was amazing—everything about it was just great. I’m praying we get another season, and I’m confident we will. From what I’ve seen so far, it looks really, really good, and I think fans are going to love it.

Being an AP is easy. As an associate producer, you're mostly giving creative notes—you’re not dealing with the hard structures. Executive producing, though, like I did for Trap City, that was tough. With AP, you’re not setting up crews or managing all the logistics. In that, I've got to handle everything—getting the crews, managing the teams—it’s more like CEO-level work, and that can definitely get annoying. That said, with a good UPM (unit production manager), things usually run smoothly. But with Trap City, I was wearing so many hats. It wasn’t just producing; it was doing everything. That project really stretched me.

BLEU: Are you starting to find that love behind the camera as well?

Jackson: For sure, BTJ Studios is becoming BTJ Films—that’s what we’re gearing toward. Trap City is executive-produced by Brandon T. Jackson, but it’s not a Brandon T. Jackson film.

BLEU: You’ve been in the industry so long. What would you say is the biggest lesson you’ve learned?

Jackson: Enjoy the process. Because you never know what can happen. Like, Trap City was the hardest project I’ve ever done. Even now, releasing it to theaters is unheard of. But we want the small film to be big. It’s a David and Goliath situation. They don’t think the community will come out to bet on their own. But I believe the community will show up. It’s not a Hollywood film, it’s a street film for the people. People appreciate that, it’s why Tubi is doing so well.

BLEU: Okay, let’s take a career break for a moment. You’re a father now. How has that changed your views? I’m not necessarily just talking about within the industry, I mean, the world?

Jackson: Wow, fatherhood changed me a lot. It gave me something to live for. They're my happy thoughts. Remember the movie Hook with Robin Williams? He couldn’t remember anything, but thinking of his children were his happy thoughts that enabled him to fly and save them. That’s how I feel.

With my career, I just didn't want to do it anymore. I just grew up and lost that edge. My children are a big piece of me flying again.

BLEU: That’s beautiful. I have to ask though, what do you think took away that initial desire from the industry?

Jackson: I don’t like feeling so controlled. Even though, looking back, I realize I’ve always had a clear vision for the types of movies I want to make. I’ve always wanted to create films that uplift the culture but aren’t corny. I want my movies to have a spiritual or faith-based undertone but still feel authentic and real. For example, I could make a faith-based movie that has the same energy as something like the last Bad Boys film.

Before, there was a lot happening behind the scenes—bureaucracy, politics, and certain agencies trying to shape how Hollywood saw me. But I had a vision for how I saw myself, and that didn’t always align. Thankfully, after Family Business, I feel like we’re in a much better place now. Back when I started, there weren’t many Black producers. The industry was different—there were no 4K cameras on the streets or affordable ways to create high-quality films. We were shooting on actual film.

Now, the market is open, and I’ve stepped into the producer role because I want to create things that truly reflect my vision. It’s exciting to see how far things have come.

BLEU: This is interesting to hear since, according to Katt Williams, you might be in the Illuminati too (laughs).

Jackson: Katt Williams is ridiculous. He doesn't know what he’s saying. Some stuff he says is very prolific, but some stuff he just says to get attention. He’s always had something against me. I’ve always been a big fan of his. I’m happy he’s putting his money where his mouth is now, though—he probably heard me speak up about how he can use his money to change the industry.

BLEU: Do you know him personally? Like, had you met him in person before his comments on Club Shay Shay?

Jackson: I’d see him in person, and he’d just talk crap about me. He’s one of my heroes, and he’s rude to me. It's like I’m anointed by the most High, just like you. Why act like that? He’s corny not to have a conversation with me. With him being a mentor— that's crazy. He’s corny.

BLEU: I’ll close with this, what would you like people to know about this next chapter of Brandon T. Jackson?

Jackson: That I’m being controlled by God. I’m not in control anymore. I mean, I never was, but now I know I’m not. I’m at the place where I know my sacrifice of eight years outside of the business. I watched people blow up that used to sleep on my couch. I watched my peers get bigger deals and movies while I had nothing. I lost everything and was living on a farm.

But I was doing it because I got sick of the excuse that Black people can’t come together, but now I know we don’t want to. We can come together for the strip club or lower vibration things, but when it’s a higher vibration—it’s like “call my accountant.” I think God just gives to the crew that has the torch of higher vibration. All my Hollywood friends thought I was crazy, and maybe I was crazy to ride for our people.

We were working to structure something meaningful—technology and systems that could help preserve the identity of Black Americans. It was about creating something that could literally save or empower the recognition of a nationality that we call Black American. There’s no such thing as an African American passport—you’re really just American. But the goal was to create a structure that acknowledges and uplifts our descendants, our bloodline, the lineage we know we come from.

We worked tirelessly on these efforts, often without support. There was a lot of talk and excitement from the community, but when it came to real support—especially from my Hollywood peers—it just wasn’t there. They all saw what we were doing, and there was a lot of rah rah, but there was no backing, no help.

Something about me? I don't do fake revolutions. I don't do that. Do a real thing or real economic revolution or something. If we do it, we have to do it for real.