B-Dog - Paw Print EP. 4

Profile and significance

Brady Perron is a New Hampshire–raised, Utah–based freeski athlete-turned-filmmaker whose eye and editing have helped redefine how park, street, and culture are presented on snow. He grew up lapping Mount Sunapee before moving west at 18, cutting his teeth with the 4bi9 and Stept crews and then shifting behind the lens full time. Across the last decade he’s become a cornerstone collaborator with Phil “B-Dog” Casabon and Jake “Mango” Mageau, directing and shooting projects that balance technical skiing with rhythm, pacing, and story. That approach earned back-to-back X Games Real Ski golds as the credited filmer for Casabon in 2018 and 2019, and formalized his role as a Director/DP with Level 1 Productions beginning in 2020. In 2021 he and Mageau released “Freehand,” followed by “Something in the Water” (2022) and ongoing Kimbo Sessions and invitational edits, culminating in new 2024–2025 releases that highlight his continued influence.

Perron matters because his films changed what “good skiing on camera” looks like. He privileges readability—angles that let the trick breathe, music choices that guide the eye, and cuts that amplify style instead of hiding behind pace. For fans, that’s why his work is rewatchable. For athletes, it’s why clips he directs tend to age well: the skiing is visible, the intent is clear, and the edit has soul.

Competitive arc and key venues

Though Perron is best known behind the camera, his competition relevance is real: he filmed and edited the winning X Games Real Ski entries for Phil Casabon in 2018 and 2019, an all-urban contest judged as rigorously as any slopestyle final. Those medals validate a method—pick lines that photograph well, favor decisive exits and held moments, and sequence the cut to tell the truth about difficulty. On the invitational side, his lens has become part of the language at Sweden’s Kimbo Sessions in Kläppen and at rider-driven gatherings where style and creativity lead. In 2021 he and Mageau launched “Freehand” with Level 1; in 2022 they returned with “Something in the Water,” and in 2024 Perron released a Kimbo short that captured the session’s tempo. Early 2025 added a fresh statement piece shot with Henrik Harlaut, reinforcing his role as a go-to director for the scene’s most influential skiers.

Geographically, these milestones map to specific venues. Broadcast-level courses at Aspen (Buttermilk) shape Real-series expectations for how street skiing should read on a big stage. Summer repetition at Timberline on Mount Hood trains the eye for long-lens timing and reliable speeds. And the SLC ecosystem—Brighton/Solitude rails, Park City jump lines, and the density of filmers and skiers—gives him the daily reps to keep ideas sharp when the camera is rolling.

How they ski: what to watch for

Perron’s skiing background bleeds into his direction. He favors tricks that “read”—locked presses, pretzels with edge authority, swaps that happen late enough to be unmistakable, and jump axes that set early so the grab has time to present. When he’s the one skiing for a shot, expect quiet shoulders, compact stance, and landings that roll immediately into the next feature. When he’s filming, expect framing that shows those same qualities in others: the camera holds just long enough for the viewer to feel pressure changes on rails or to see a grab fully connected. The result is an honest picture of difficulty and a heightened appreciation for style.

For progressing skiers, that’s instructive. You’ll see how a small choice—grab duration, a subtle nose press, a cleaner exit—impacts the clip more than adding another 180. Perron’s films are essentially a syllabus for “readable difficulty.”

Resilience, filming, and influence

The shift from athlete to director wasn’t a retreat; it was a doubling-down on contribution. After early parts with 4bi9 and sessions with Stept, Perron helped steer flagship B-Dog projects—“Tempo,” “En Particulier,” “Nuance,” and “Ensemble”—that foregrounded choreography and mood. With Mageau, he crafted the intimate SLC-based “Freehand” (2021) and expanded the palette in “Something in the Water” (2022), a short that folded fly-fishing and road-life into the skiing without losing technical weight. In 2024 he delivered a Kimbo Sessions cut that bottled the event’s flow, and in 2025 he teamed with Henrik Harlaut on a new edit that shows his recent direction: warmer color, deliberate handheld energy, and musical choices that push narrative as much as tempo.

Influence shows up in two places. First, athletes now build lines with the “Perron lens” in mind—planning where a camera can sit, how a trick breathes, and what detail will be visible at speed. Second, younger filmers copy the cadence: steadier cuts, honest speed, non-gimmick music edits. The upshot is a healthier feedback loop between skiing and cinema: technique supports the shot, and the shot clarifies the technique.

Geography that built the toolkit

Perron’s toolkit is a product of place. Early repetition at Mount Sunapee’s compact terrain taught economy: get to features quickly, try often, and value control over amplitude. The Salt Lake City corridor added rails, urban options, and a year-round community that treats filming as training. Summer blocks at Timberline’s Palmer Snowfield gave him and his collaborators the cycle of “try → adjust → retake” that makes winter street clips possible. Abroad, sessions at Kläppen’s National Arena and New Zealand’s Cardrona parks contributed scale and rhythm—long lines where tricks must relate to one another and still read from the fence line. Broadcast venues like Buttermilk contextualized all of it: street moves can work live if the speed, angle, and axis are chosen for the camera, not against it.

Those places also explain the feel of his films: calm, confident speed; compositions that keep skis in the frame just long enough; and edits that make a run feel inevitable.

Equipment and partners: practical takeaways

Perron’s collaborations span core brands and production houses. As a Director/DP with Level 1 Productions, he has access to athletes and support structures that let ideas scale. Projects with B-Dog have involved Armada’s creative universe; the recipe there (whether on cam or in front of it) is durable twin-tips tuned for rail bite underfoot and detuned tips/tails, paired with a neutral mount that supports switch landings and butter entries. With Mageau, “Something in the Water” listed partners like 686, Fat Tire, and ON3P Skis, illustrating how modern films often weave athlete sponsors into a project’s backbone.

Takeaways for skiers and filmers alike: build a repeatable setup and a predictable workflow. On snow, that’s a ski you don’t fight, bevels you can trust, and a stance you can hold for ten takes. Behind the lens, that’s stable exposure, angles that don’t lie about speed, and music that supports—not overwhelms—the skiing. If your edit is clear, the style can breathe.

Why fans and progressing skiers care

Fans care because Perron’s work makes difficult skiing feel understandable without flattening it. You see the lock on a press, the moment a pretzel begins, and the axis change that separates a good double from a great one. Progressing skiers care because his films are roadmaps: how to sequence a line, where to place a caper trick, when to hold a grab, and how to translate park habits to street or vice versa. Coaches and judges care because the clarity helps calibrate what counts in 2020s freeskiing: readable difficulty, execution, and style that survives slow-mo and broadcast angles alike.

Most of all, Perron’s catalog shows that culture leaders don’t have to choose between art and accuracy. His Real Ski wins prove the method under pressure; his Level 1 work proves it scales; and his recent invitational edits prove it still evolves. If you want to understand where freeski filming and style are going next, watch what Brady shoots—and how he lets the skiing speak.

Quick reference (places)

• Utah — everyday training ground and filming hub (SLC corridor).
• Timberline (Mt. Hood) — summer laps and Palmer Snowfield repetition.
• Mount Sunapee — New Hampshire home hill foundation.
• Cardrona — Southern Hemisphere park venue for invitational edits.

Principal sponsors

• Level 1 Productions — director/DP representation and production partner
• Armada — long-running creative collaborator across B-Dog projects
• ON3P Skis — project support (e.g., “Something in the Water” with Mageau)
• 686 — film sponsor (outerwear partner on Mageau collaborations)

Philip Casabon, known to skiers around the world as B-Dog, is a Canadian freeski legend from Shawinigan, Québec, whose influence on street and park skiing spans more than a decade of groundbreaking video parts, signature products and era-defining style. He emerged in the late 2000s and early 2010s as a rider who could make complex tricks look effortless, pairing technical precision with a relaxed body language that reads clearly on camera and in person. While many athletes built careers around podiums, Casabon built a catalog around originality and storytelling, proving that progression in freeskiing is measured not just by spin counts, but by ideas, rhythm and the way a skier uses terrain. Casabon’s breakthrough years were intertwined with a creative partnership with Henrik Harlaut under the B&E banner, culminating in invitational events that showcased style, flow and unconventional features. Those projects amplified a philosophy that still guides his skiing today. Lines are designed like sentences with a beginning, middle and end. Approach speed is chosen to preserve cadence rather than to force difficulty. Takeoffs are decisive and axes are set early so rotations remain readable and landings ride away clean. The result is footage that ages well and remains instructive for younger riders studying how to combine rails, walls, gaps and banks into coherent sequences. The contest world eventually embraced video-based formats, and Casabon became a benchmark there as well. In X Games Real Ski he delivered all-urban segments that balanced heavy enders with subtle touches: nose and tail presses that carry real weight, surface swaps performed on imperfect steel, redirected spins that treat walls and banks as extensions of the rail line. Those edits demonstrated mastery of spot selection, logistics and risk management under tight timelines. They also highlighted a symbiosis with filmer and editor Brady Perron, whose eye for pacing and framing magnified Casabon’s skating-inspired approach to edges, balance and transitions. Equipment is a central part of Casabon’s story. His signature park and street skis became known for playful flex in the tips and tails, supportive underfoot platforms and shapes that feel neutral on unknown landing angles. He is meticulous about mount points that keep swing weight balanced without sacrificing landing stability, and he is vocal about edge durability, torsional support and base speed on contaminated snow. In boots, he gravitated to progressive designs that preserve ankle articulation and rebound for presses and quick recentering after surface changes. This product literacy turns gear into a creative partner rather than an afterthought, and it informs a steady stream of feedback to designers who translate rider needs into shapes and constructions that withstand urban abuse. Casabon’s training habits reveal why the style looks so effortless. Off snow he emphasizes hip and ankle mobility, single-leg strength for efficient pop on short run-ins, and trunk stability to manage off-axis rotations without letting the upper body flail. Trampoline and air-awareness sessions break big tricks into components, rehearsing set mechanics, grab timing and spotting before full-scale attempts. On snow he builds lines from low-consequence moves, scaling them patiently into heavy features once speed, angles and snow texture are predictable. That incremental method reduces injuries and preserves longevity in a discipline where impact tolerance is often mistaken for progress. Storytelling is another thread that runs through his career. Casabon treats each project like an album rather than a single, choosing music, color and pacing that serve the skiing. He shows the process in behind-the-scenes moments: shoveling and salting to control speed, testing inruns at dawn when light is flat but traffic is light, cleaning spots and restoring environments out of respect for neighborhoods. This transparency sets a standard for urban filming etiquette and keeps doors open for future crews. It also explains why his films are rewatchable; they offer both the satisfaction of heavy tricks and the narrative of how those tricks were made possible. Community impact rounds out his profile. Casabon mentors younger riders by translating complex technique into simple cues: align early on the inrun, commit to a clean set, keep shoulders calm through impact, and ride away with purpose. He is honest about fear management, using visualization and measured increments to turn nerves into information rather than noise. In camps and informal sessions he shares the small adjustments that create big gains, from binding ramp angle to edge bevels that keep rails viable on cold mornings. As freeskiing continues to evolve, Casabon remains a reference point for authenticity. He releases tightly curated video parts, appears at select events, and collaborates with brands in ways that preserve the integrity of his style while pushing product design forward. His legacy is not confined to medals or one winter’s highlight reel. It lives in a generation of skiers who learned that creativity can be systematic, that style is a skill built on fundamentals, and that a line that reads beautifully will always matter. For fans and aspiring riders, Philip Casabon stands as proof that street skiing can be both refined and raw, both disciplined and free, and that the most enduring progression happens when craft, culture and community move together.