With Five Texas Films, Three Austin Film Festival Premieres, And A Mockumentary Born On A Couch, Cooper Proves He’s As Agile Behind The Camera As He Is On The Court… Injuries Notwithstanding
Photography courtesy of Ryan Cooper and Proper Cloth

If the Austin Chamber of Commerce ever needs proof that Ryan Cooper is an unofficial city ambassador, they need only count his filmography. Five films shot in Central Texas. Three premieres at the Austin Film Festival. At this point, the man doesn’t need a key to the city; he needs a parking spot on Congress Avenue. “Honestly, I’m surprised it hasn’t happened already,” he jokes. “Although after playing Deacon Jones in Texas Cult House (now out on Prime Video), a few hands might’ve gone down.”
Cooper, who has lived everywhere from Papua New Guinea to Australia to New York, has somehow found his spiritual home deep in the heart of Texas, where the creative energy flows as freely as the barbecue sauce. But don’t bother trying to separate which Texan indulgence stole his heart. “It’s definitely playing pickleball while eating BBQ,” he says. “By focusing on not dropping my food, I protect my Achilles.” Resourceful and athletic. Very on-brand. We get it.
A Life Story That Reads Like A Script (And Sometimes Writes One)
Before Cooper was scoring leads, producing films, and building sets on a still-healing foot, his life zigzagged through extraordinary extremes: dirt floors to fashion runways, construction sites to acting opposite Scarlett Johansson and Sarah Jessica Parker. “My life story is really wild when I don’t think of it as just my life,” he says. And yet the through-line is simple… humility, integrity, and a complete disregard for status. “I don’t care what you’ve done if you don’t treat people with respect and kindness.”

Those experiences, the glamorous, the gritty, and the downright surreal, inform the stories he gravitates toward. “External masks aren’t always truthful inner dialogue,” he reflects. That tension, that humanity beneath the surface, is where his storytelling thrives.
Austin: Where The Work Ethic Feels Like Well, Home
Cooper has made the Austin Film Festival his annual pilgrimage, a three-year run that’s been equal parts professional catalyst and personal lifeline. “It’s a place where you meet people who are hungry, curious, and ready to hustle,” he says. “That work ethic feels like home to me.” Austin also gave him some of his closest friends, including actress Adrianne Palicki, whose spare room is affectionately called “mine.” As in… his.
Pickleheads: The Comeback Serve Nobody Saw Coming
After a very literal Achilles heel moment, pickleball vs. tendon, pickleball wins, Cooper finally slowed down long enough to dive headfirst into producing. The timing was cosmic. Laid up on his couch (which he swears he never does), he found space to immerse himself in story development, script mechanics, and the business of bringing ideas to life.
That process led him to produce and star in Texas Cult House, building sets himself while still hobbling around, and then straight into Pickleheads, a mockumentary born from collaboration, good instincts, and a brother-like creative partner, Matt Lockwood. “Every step felt intentional,” Cooper says. “It wasn’t just a fun idea; it was a smart opportunity.”

It also reunited a beloved Texas crew: Josh Flanagan, Taylor Camarot, Dan Hirons, Kody Gibson, people Cooper trusts, respects, and adores.
Pickleball Pros And… Er, Let’s Call Them ‘Enthusiasts’
Among the cast are the naturals: Jared Bonner, Eric Nelsen (who happens to have a court at home), and Pej Vahdat, a former D1 tennis player who remains politely unconvinced about pickleball’s supremacy. And then there’s Kristine Froseth, who had never held a paddle but “absolutely crushed it.”
Cooper himself remains modest, except when speaking on behalf of the paddle. “The plastic is only as skilled as its… ‘swinger,’” he deadpans. A term of art, coined here and now.
Behind the Camera: Hard Hats, Headsets & Head-Spinning
Producing, in Cooper’s words, looks far from effortless. “I feel like my head must look like a cartoon character’s spinning in place,” he laughs. But his construction background gives him a surprising edge. “If the script is a blueprint and a sound mixer is an electrician… it all translates.”

He asks the “dumb questions” on purpose, eagerly collects feedback from department heads, and applies every lesson to the next project. Part therapist, part general, part visionary, he toggles between roles like a man with three phones buzzing at once. Sometimes literally. “There are dailies where I’m on camera finishing phone calls after rolling was called…”
Adversity As Fuel: From Personal Pain To Creative Truth
Cooper’s philosophy on challenge is unusually tender. Watching his daughter despair over a lost teddy reminded him that grown-up crises can feel just as blinding. “We need space to breathe so we can see it for what it is,” he says.
His own dark season, Covid, divorce, upheaval, gave him clarity, compassion, and a drive to tell deeper emotional stories. That’s why The Six Day Detective hit him so hard, ” he says. “Men often don’t seek out places to talk about deeper feelings.” This story mattered. It still does.

And Finally… The Important Question: Best Scene Partner?
Scarlett Johansson? Sarah Jessica Parker? Victoria Justice? Or the pickleball paddle?
Cooper pauses, then grins. “The paddle’s only as good as its swinger.” Consider it as polycarbonate diplomacy at its finest.
But he’s still in awe of the path he’s traveled and the partners with whom he’s shared the screen. And as his creative world keeps expanding, acting, producing, globe-trotting, culture-bridging, set-building, Achilles-guarding, it’s clear one thing isn’t changing anytime soon:
Ryan Cooper may be from everywhere, but he was absolutely made for Texas.
