"Sin" Scene 02

The second big song in “Sin” is “Why Should I Care.”  Santana has concluded her opening number from hell in which she explains she has her mission in mind while “Luis,” the “God” figure looks on, intrigued and slightly dismayed.

(early concept drawing of "Santana," a Fosse-esque, sexy business person)

Next, Santana continues her song, where she says she’s found an appropriate person to help her with her still-unrevealed plans.  She’s picked out a failed and defeated Hollywood music producer named “Devlin” (a character-revealing name) to assist her, if she can seduce him and get him to sign a contract.  Having pointed him out to the audience she hides in the shadows to watch.  We’re introduced to Devlin and he sings his character’s song, "Why Should I Care."

The way the show was set up, each of the four leads had a simple, specific, 8-bar chorus “theme.”  The themes would come and go in different versions throughout the show to reaffirm the character’s motivations.  Devlin’s main theme included a 16-bar bridge (ie, 8 bars for each character), a lament/sneak preview of a moment that will return later when the character “Faith” sings it, “Get There." Having both characters do the song was a way to tie them together. 

Devlin’s song is all about his loss of faith; like many people who came into town and quickly got a taste of the high life in Hollywood, Devlin went too far and eventually lost his footing in his showbiz career.  Even though he doesn’t specify what happened you get that he’s a burnt out, bitter and confused Hollywood type, walking the sleazy streets of late-night Hollywood, stopping by a church. 

Having spent the 1990s and beyond in Hollywood, I saw a lot of “burnouts” come and go.  It was a pretty common thing when I arrived in town at the end of the 80s actually.  By the time I got into town, movies and music were reaching an apex of success (think of Altman's 1992 film "The Player").  The film industry was definitely considered a “dream factory,” and still is in many ways, even if its heart isn’t as centrally located as it was then.

Often as not, people would come to California, find it a bountiful (money-filled) place to be young and beautiful and experience the phenomenon of “the first hit is free.”  This is an old drug term describing how a pusher would give someone a hit of an addicting drug to get them hooked so they’d be compelled to pay the pusher regularly. 

In the case of Hollywood, there isn’t, or wasn’t, a real “pusher.”  The "drug" is the dream of making lots of easy money in a beautiful place among beautiful people creating art.

The reality is art-as-commerce is a lot of hard work, dedication and luck, just like anything else, and the glitz that comes with the notion of "Hollywood" is an illusion.  Some people can handle that, many can’t.  Some try their hand at Hollywood success and end up going back where they came from when it doesn't work out, some never get “out” at all, being, as they say, “chewed up and spit out” in one way or another.  Some stay even after their prospects are gone, unable to figure out what else to do, stuck in a vicious cycle.

I was always fascinated by this type.  I’m pretty stubborn and I’ve seen my share of dark nights of the soul in my own world…but never in relation to my work.  I saw the results of putting too much stock into the “Hollywood Dream” early on (or maybe I just had good parenting) and was determined to never risk more than I could lose in my pursuit of a Hollywood career (in my case animation, although in the 90s the stakes were as high there any other part of the movie business, leading to some really challenging times now and then).

The fact of “Why Should I Care” is that it’s actually about faith, and hope, even as the lyrics describe a loss of faith.  Originally the song was about the loss of a relationship but I injected it with a hint of a loss of religious faith.  Beneath it all, the narrator of the song keeps reiterating, “Why should I care?”  because it’s a question the character is still asking, meaning he hasn’t actually given up hope yet.  He’s angry because he still believes life can be better.  And I know this feeling well, because that’s where I was when I wrote the song. 

The original idea came from an 80s song I did with Mari Takushi and Marc Samuels in college, "Walk and Cry," which was in turn based on a song "I Still Believe" from the soundtrack to the "Lost Boys" film from 1987. I’d had an idea to do an 80s-dance version of “The Most Beautiful Girl in the World,” the Charlie Rich song (instead of “I won’t keep on knocking on doors or just talking into the air” it would go, “Hey did you happen to see the most beautiful girl in the world”). 

In the 90s I did it as what they call “EDM” now (Electronic Dance Music).  I’ve always been into that kind style and it’s easy to self-produce, just requires some synthesizers and recording equipment (everything I've ever done was from my bedroom, I've never worked in an actual recording studio). My first successful attempt to record the song was done in a style that was popular at the time, 1998 or so, and originally used sampled vocals I got off a dj CD to create the song I called “Choose Me” from 1998, here:  https://youtu.be/nPZHEatTetk

It was one of my best efforts at the time and I think it still holds up pretty well.  The intro/chorus chords were directly lifted from a popular “rave” track at the time, “Thunderdome” by a group called (appropriately!) “Messiah.” 

In 2003 I wrote a new melody line and new lyrics as part of an album I was doing with my friend, the amazingly talented Charles Herrera. 

Even in 2003 I was thinking theatrically. Around that time I first heard Amanda Lear’s late-70s disco “Sweet Revenge” disco album. It features "Follow Me," a song about a devil figure seducing someone into a life of fame and fortune. I was amazed at the silly audacity of it, but I thought it kind of worked too. I’d had an idea about doing a sort of “disco Faust” piece, or at least making an attempt to see if something like that would be possible.

 Ever since I’d started attending musical theatre I’d been looking (to the continuing disgust of my musical theatre peers) at ways to introduce non-traditional-musical elements (like EDM/dance/techno and 3-minute pop songs) into the medium to make it something more like what I’m personally into, telling stories with a more episodic pop-song framework ala "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat." 

In the case of “Sin” I was also largely inspired by the “major/minor” switchbacks you hear in a lot of more serious ABBA tracks ("S.O.S.", "The Name of the Game"), and by the group “Sunscreem” and their 90s song “Love U More.”  Having seen Sunscreem do the song live, I was impressed by the way the song builds and incorporates a human element into the thump-thump bass drum and the arpeggiated notes that work like a tense, ticking clock.

Lyrically, I came up with the idea of walking by the door of a house instead of knocking on the door, and wanted it to work as either the door of someone from a broken relationship or the door of a church simultaneously.  In the case of a failed relationship, it’s a person realizing they care more than the other person does and making the choice to give up and move on.  In the case of religion, it’s someone coming to the conclusion that their prayers are meaningless; they’re praying to thin air—no spectral being is listening, or in any way going to influence the narrator’s life (but they're unhappy about this realization).

As a point of context, I was raised with religion—some pretty confusing directives from both my parents, who were into vastly different belief systems, neither of which I find, looking back, were particularly healthy.  It forced me to find my own way spiritually, first by searching for my own spiritual guides and then by doing a lot of independent study. 

While my journey led me to a comforting place where I no longer have, or desire to have, traditional spiritual beliefs, I’m aware of the tremendous importance religions hold for a great many people.  By doing a show called “Sin” with Satan as a sympathetic lead character and themes that question the nature of, or even need for, Christian-based beliefs, it was important to me to not set out to offend anyone (including members of the cast) who didn’t share my non-religious views.  I tried to be respectful anyway, while also exploring ideas that even devoutly religious people encounter from time to time.

At any rate, Charles did an amazing job with his version of “Why Should I Care” and we both knew we had something unique.  Eventually we re-recorded the song with new lyrics, written by Charles in Spanish. I was—and am—incredibly proud of what Charles and I created together and was honored to be a part of a song in another language for the first time. "Dime Porque" from 2003: https://youtu.be/Cg7jdL6BUc0

At various times I considered whether Charles could play the Devlin role but by the time I was able to put the show up he was in a different place physically and mentally, although he gave it all his blessing, for which I’m still thankful. 

I knew “Devlin” might be the toughest character to cast of all, because I wasn’t completely sure who he was as a character in the first place.  I had an image in my head of someone from the cast of Jesus Christ Superstar in the 70s, all shirtless and sweaty and screaming—maybe Ted Neely (as if there could ever be anyone like him).  In 2009 “emo” was still kind of in vogue and so I was thinking of a guy outfitted by the then-popular goth store “Hot Topic” and sporting guyliner and black boots. 

Early concept for "Devlin"

As much as anything, the singer had to have an specific range.  All the songs I wrote are in my own vocal range of course (so I could sing the demos, which no one will ever hear, other than the singers who ended up with the songs of course), and I’ve never known what my range was but it  generally seems to be outside of the common range of most male or female singers, which has always been challenging. 

One night in 2010, after the instrumental tracks and lyrics were written for “Sin,”  I went to see a small revival of Sondheim’s “Merrily We Roll Along” that one of my former cast members from “Ecstasy” (2009) was in at the Actor’s Co-op in Hollywood. 

The show knocked me out of course and I read the program frantically to find out more information.  I was immediately drawn to a picture of one of the understudies in the Playbill, a young man with riveting eyes and dark good looks.  It wasn’t the first time I had an immediate sense that I’d found the actor to play a roll, sight unseen, and it wouldn’t be the last. 

I reached out to Chris Maikish via email and explained that I was doing a demo for a new show I hoped to produce and knew one of the cast members in his show (in hopes it would help keep me from sounding like an obsessed stalker).  I wrote that I believed, even though I hadn’t seen him perform in “Merrily…” that anyone who could do that role would be able to sing the songs I had written.  Chris was an incredibly good sport and suggested if I actually wanted to see him perform he was doing a show in Burbank and we could meet there after. 

As often happens in Hollywood I’ve found, the entertainment world is small and you’re likely to see the same folks again and again…another actor from my show “Ecstasy,” the legendary Sean Smith (Phantom of the Opera in LA) was in the same show as Chris in Burbank, and I was hoping to entice Sean to ALSO sing on my new demo, for “Sin.” 

It was a wonderful night (though I can’t remember what the show was, another staged reading I think) and I was happy to get a chance to talk with Sean and get him signed up to play “Luis,” aka the “God” character, which was pretty much a dream come true—not only that he was willing to do it but that he’s always just been such an agreeable, cooperative, hard-working, brilliant, funny and wonderful person in general.

I was convinced more than ever Chris would be great for “Devlin” and we agreed to meet up soon for coffee to talk about the project.  Chris was literally like an angel from heaven when I met him—one of the sweetest and most sincere young performers—or people—I’d ever met, and he couldn’t have been more excited or into working with me on the demo. 

As a side note—I’ve always paid performers for everything they’ve done with my projects…never much, never enough, that’s for sure--more for a bigger project of course, but I’ve always made sure and offered something, just out of respect.  To get the kind of talent I was able to find, it’s the least I could do anyway.  Another dream I always had: to have a “real” show going so I could pay these incredible artists what they deserved.  It just doesn’t always work out that way, unfortunately, and again, I was lucky to have found people who were not only eager to work but talented beyond my reasonable expectations. 

Chris agreed to do my demo and we recorded all his songs in one single session, often in one take--I was blown away.  He had his entire part—which is pretty sizable—down pat like the expert he is.  He not only sang pitch-perfect but he injected an unexpected amount of heart and vulnerability to the part, all while maintaining his good humor and working at a perfect professional level.  I really was in awe at the end of our recording session, and vowed that wherever things went from there, I’d do my best to sing his praises as a performer and person.  In the interim I’ve seen him continue to live up to the promise he showed me that day, as a person and performer both. 

The soaring performance of Chris Maikish singing “Why Should I Care” made even the performers who sang the song after he did admit his version was/is the gold standard, and every time I hear it I get the chills—I’m thrilled to share it here again, from 2010: https://youtu.be/O2LJuQaFEn4

I presented the idea of directing a staged sing-through to my friend and the director of my previous show Kay Cole, and she was thrilled, eager to jump into a new work that was still evolving. However, bringing Kay on meant some things changed. 

I had absolutely no idea how to cast the one-night-only sing-through performance or even what it would entail (rehearsals, staging, tech work)—while doing the demo I was just trying to find anyone who could/would do it and lucky, and thrilled, to have whoever I got. 

Once Kay got involved as director/choreographer it became important to have her “people” involved, performers she knew and had worked with.  We had very little time to rehearse once I found the venue and set a date, and unlike my first show, we did most of the "Sin" sing-through fast and cheap.

So, Kay being a top-drawer director was a draw for our amazing performers, and our performers were a draw for Kay to make sure the show reflected her high standards.

That being said, I actually approached Joe Sousa at a club one night completely out of the blue…I’d seen him perform (in Kay’s shows) before, and a friend-of-a-friend had used him in a pilot read-through for a sitcom with Leslie Jordan.  I knew, from that, Joe was not only an incredibly talented performer, with jaw-dropping good looks and charisma, but he might be, perhaps, not opposed to doing something small like our “sing through.”

I took a couple swigs of my drink, crossed the bar and just walked up to Joe, who was talking to someone, and interrupted to tell him about my project. I asked if he might be interested, mentioning Kay’s name and giving him my card. 

Joe looked at me with the same smirk I imagined he gave to everyone of the people who has come up to him starry-eyed over the years, and said, “Yeah, sure,” but I could tell he wasn’t (and rightfully so) taking it too seriously, would likely forget about it five minutes after I left. 

Joe Sousa

I talked to Kay about it and she said she’d give Joe a call to follow up, and before I knew it he, as well as Sean, was signed on.  I was thrilled and a little stunned. 

In truth, I was disappointed that Chris wouldn’t be in the role, because I knew he could do it and it would be great to get him working with Kay.  But there was no denying Joe’s “star quality.”  The character was supposed to be mature, strong and charismatic, and Joe brought that, plus an incredible amount of sex appeal…and of course, his voice was undeniable, not even worth mentioning it was so phenomenal.  Well, if you want proof, here’s his performance from the sing-through at Skinny's bar in NoHo, October of 2011: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2_Cl0Jr0nNw

It’s a shame you can’t see the video better and that the staging had him walking from mic to mic too much (Kay did what she could with the limited space, time and tech)…Joe really stole the show that night and nearly knocked the walls down. There was a strange feeling that something had happened the night of the sing-through, a feeling that Joe had “arrived” somewhere, although where that was none of us knew…but the feeling was electric. 

While I’m sorry the video is so terrible and more sorry still I never got to work with Joe again, I’m forever grateful that I got to know him for a brief time, and even moreso that I got him singing this song…I find it truly transcendent (even though he was humble enough to say, “You don’t expect me to sing as high as that guy on the demo did do you?”  I did, and he did!).

Four years passed before I could do “Sin” again as I mentioned before, and by the time I was ready to try the show out again things had changed a lot. In 2015, for the Fringe Festival, I was doing my show on the (dirt) cheap out of necessity and so producing/directing/staging everything myself.

In truth, I thought it would be insulting to Kay to ask her to do something like a Fringe production for no money, or very little, especially since the size of the venue meant it would really just be another staged “sing through.” 

I had no idea, then, how small the theatre world is (although I shouldn’t have been surprised) and that word would get back to Kay I was moving on with the show without her, and she was (rightfully, I suppose) more insulted to find out second hand than if I’d just said I was doing the whole thing myself. We hadn’t been hanging out much at that time as I tried to get back on my feet financially and find a new career, and I just wasn’t in a great place and really wanted to do everything myself anyway.   

I reiterate that I thought the show was beneath her, unlikely to stir up any attention and expected to be embarrassed by it somehow ultimately after it came and went, imposter syndrome perhaps--like I didn’t want too many people to know I was doing it all. On the other I hand I thought, if this versino of the show worked, I’d invite her in, pay her appropriately, and we’d do it legit the next time. 

But in truth I could have—and probably should have—at least let her know what I was doing and why.  Sometimes we’re so uneasy about how we think someone will react that we inadvertently cause the very reaction we were trying to avoid.  Live and learn, as the old saying goes.

The good news is Kay and I eventually talked and made our peace, she even wished me well when I did another Fringe show the next year, and I was appropriately humbled after having made my feeble (if reasonably successful) attempts to do what she does so very well, after spending so many years doing her time in the world of theatre and nurturing her incredible talents.  I feel lucky to have had her as a friend, teacher, sparring partner and family member all these years, moreso for her having forgiven me for my naive missteps now and then. 

Anyway, when it was time to do my “Fringe” version of “Sin” in 2015, I tried to get some of the cast from the read-through back but, for one reason and another (including, I always suspected, their rightful loyalty to Kay) it didn’t happen and I was faced with both the joy—and struggle—of finding new talent for this incarnation. 

It takes a great deal of trust on the part of both parties when you do a project of this kind…the “talent” has to show up and remain dedicated to the project…the creator of the project has to promise something worth putting all that work for beyond the pittance I could pay out. 

I found Christopher R. Smith on a casting website and, in the same way I sensed Chris Maikish was right for the demo, I knew immediately, sight-unseen, without even an audition, he would be perfect for the part of “Devlin” in my new version of the show--if he would do it.

A former football player who can come off as non-descript physically if he chooses, Chris was--is--mature, smart, handsome and with the bonus of being an amazing singer/actor; I knew he had the right mix of smoldering sexuality and disciplined musical training to be a perfect fit, and he was, and gave it his all to my astonishment.  What I didn’t expect was how much much-needed humor he’d bring to the perhaps-sometimes-overly serious show with his performance. 

This video of Chris as "Devlin" in his opening scene perfectly encapsulates the idea I came up with of a frustrated, burnt-out man with great passion fighting his sense of defeat and lack of faith, revealing himself mentally, spiritually and physically on a stage to the awe of the audience, and it worked every night—Chris stopped the show every performance with this song, as you can see here from the 2015 Fringe show:  https://youtu.be/z7PPG1IVAtY

I have been honored to have so many talented performers sing this song that has meant so much to me in my adulthood.  Each of the performers I was lucky enough to persuade to sing this song has done grand and glorious things both before and after the brief time we worked together, to my joy (and lack of surprise).   My feeling of honor  in their presence comes not just because they participated fully in my project but because their interpretations voiced something I couldn’t say any other way, in perfectly-captured performances.  I may not be “spiritual” in the traditional sense, but this is a kind of magic indeed.