Deliciously Creepy Villains

A Voice In the Dark

I’ve always had a thing for the dark side. Not the “forgot to pay my taxes” dark side, but the deliciously creepy kind that makes horror and thriller fans squeal with glee. It turns out, unbeknownst to me, I became the go-to bad guy in the voice-over world. But let’s rewind a bit to a curious incident in London, which clued me in on my villainous typecast.

I was at a convention, and a mom, hoping to snag a souvenir for her kid back home, asked me to describe the characters I voiced. I cheerfully began, “Well, there’s Albert Wesker, a megalomaniac with charm; then Yoshikage Kira, a misogynist serial killer with a hand fetish; and oh, Persona 5’s Kamoshida, a pedophile…” She interrupted me, “Maybe I don’t need anything.” That’s when it hit me – I wasn’t just voicing random characters; I was the voice of a villainous death row!

The Good Boy

Despite having a low voice and towering at 6’2”, my doughy/deceptively young face made casting me a tricky business. I was often shuffled between roles like the stoic secret service man or the conservative lawyer – never quite fitting into the edgy roles I kinda craved.

As I trudged through my mid-40s, a creeping sense of artistic dissatisfaction began to gnaw at me. By the time I was 52, a decision had been made – I was going to restart my on-camera career. And what better way to do so than to let my hair down—literally. As the world masked up and hunkered down, I used the time to grow out my hair… And lose my shirt on the stock market (long story).

The Bad Man

This hairy transformation marked the beginning of my new journey into the world of creepy characters. Suddenly, I was no longer just the face in the background briefing the protagonist. I was the protagonist – or rather, the antagonist in films that had me getting down with the dark side.

The change brought a slew of roles that I’d been jonesing for:

Leonard Mason in “Debt Valley,” where I played a charming yet sinister gentleman CEO.

Daniel in “Aquarium of the Dead,” where I tackled the complexities of a man fighting zombie fish.

Buzz in “Secrets in the Desert,” where I delved into the despair of alcoholism for a cameo.

Rob Carter in “CSI: Vegas,” a role inspired by Rob Zombie.

Caleb in “Drowning in Secrets,” exploring man-buns and bad parenting.

Randy McNabb in “Killer Stepmom,” where I gave everyone the creeps.

Ron in “The Killer in My Backyard,” embodying the office creep.

Hug Me

Ironically, those who know me off-screen find this villainous streak amusing. To know me is to discover that I am quite the opposite of these dark characters I portray. In reality, I’m something of a pushover, a people-pleaser who’s more likely to overtip the waiter than complain to the manager.

So here’s to more deliciously creepy roles and to a future where I can continue to surprise, scare, and maybe even scar a little. Because what’s life without a scar that tells a story?

Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this sun of York;
And all the clouds that lour’d upon our house
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths;
Our bruised arms hung up for monuments;
Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings,
Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.
Grim-visaged war hath smooth’d his wrinkled front;
And now, instead of mounting barded steeds
To fright the souls of fearful adversaries,
He capers nimbly in a lady’s chamber
To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.
But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks,
Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass;
I, that am rudely stamp’d, and want love’s majesty
To strut before a wanton ambling nymph;
I, that am curtail’d of this fair proportion,
Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,
Deform’d, unfinish’d, sent before my time
Into this breathing world, scarce half made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable
That dogs bark at me as I halt by them;
Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace,
Have no delight to pass away the time,
Unless to spy my shadow in the sun
And descant on mine own deformity:
And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover,
To entertain these fair well-spoken days,
I am determined to prove a villain
And hate the idle pleasures of these days.

– William Shakespeare