"Let's try this again," said John Cruz, smiling.

It was almost midnight on a Wednesday evening in November 2002. A couple dozen souls were gathered at Anna Bannana's watching Cruz cut a tall, reed-thin figure, alone on the bar's small corner stage. Stray tendrils of long hair threatened his vision as intricate yet powerful acoustic attacks escaped his guitar alongside hushed slack-key-style picking. His gently rough-hewn voice was a bit worn but still full of emotion.

There were gorgeously spare, barely recognizable renditions of "Island Style" and "Sitting in Limbo," hits from his popular disc "Acoustic Soul," which had won two Na Hoku Hanohano Awards five years earlier. He burned through rich, blistering covers of Van Morrison's "Into the Mystic" and Bruce Cockburn's "Wondering Where the Lions Are." He even shared a sweet and earnest take on dad Ernie Cruz Sr.'s signature "Waimea Cowboy."

Cruz's face remained mostly stoic throughout. But every once in a while — after a melancholy reading of his lovely ballad "Mama's Lil' Baby," for instance — he'd let escape an infectious smile of pure, momentary enjoyment.

A childhood friend had only weeks earlier given Cruz and his then-pregnant girlfriend a room in his home, ending months of living day-to-day, earning money for another night in a series of Waikiki hotel rooms. Cruz wasn't out of the woods from years of drug abuse yet. But he'd made a hard decision to wean himself off a longtime addiction to smoking crack cocaine. And after years intentionally away from public performances, he had accepted the weekly solo gig at Anna's with no expectations.

No one at the show — including a reporter anonymously gathering notes for an after-hours column — was likely aware that singer-songwriter John Cruz, just by being on stage that evening, was emerging from three of the darkest years of his life.

STORY OF HIS LIFE

Four years later, John Cruz was sitting with the same reporter in Island Post, an aged yet oddly homey Kahala-area studio owned by a longtime friend.

Guitar at his side, long hair pulled back, and dressed in shorts, slippers and an unbuttoned shirt, Cruz looked relaxed, healthy and happy. That infectious smile escaped more often.

He was days away from leaving Hawai'i for fellow singer-songwriter Jackson Browne's studio in Santa Monica, Calif., where Cruz is now recording his as-yet-untitled long-awaited second album. Cruz struck up a friendship with the legendary SoCal musician when both performed at 2005's Kokua Festival. Festival founder Jack Johnson is also a friend.

Cruz will return to Honolulu later this month to perform at the premiere of "Made of Music: The Story of John Cruz" at the Hawaii International Film Festival on Oct. 26.

The documentary by Kaua'i-based first-time filmmaker Leslie Cole Truglio is narrated by Cruz himself, via interviews collected over a year of filming that ended in June. Truglio's film is an honest, at times painful, but ultimately hopeful glimpse of the musician's life of triumphs and struggles. And true to its title, "Made of Music" is wisely filled start-to-finish with Cruz music both wonderfully new and comfortably familiar.

Despite what he has been through, Cruz, 42, cut less of a tragic figure in conversation than a cautiously hopeful one. He was patient and didn't deflect even difficult questions on subjects he had rarely discussed. And Cruz was excited that he was about to record music again. His music. His way. Just as he always had.

MAGIC OF CHORDS

"Sometimes the songs start out with just a melody. Sometimes it starts with a little groove. ... Sometimes you're just sitting around, fooling around playing chords and that will just spark something," said Cruz, explaining his songwriting craft.

Cruz has never written songs as routine, or on a schedule. In the last 10 years, he has averaged about one new song a year.

"You get fragments, and sometimes they just stick around and torment you," he said, grinning. "Other times, they'll be real friendly and nice."

The ones he keeps often arrive in his head fully realized, with only bits of lyrical tweaking necessary.

"Music is really all about feelings," said Cruz. "People don't really listen to songs. A song either makes you feel good or feel not so good. And if it feels good, then it kind of draws you in to actually listen to it."

If song fragments, chord progressions and half-ideas were tangible, he'd have a closet full of 'em from the last decade. Asked what folks would never find in a John Cruz song, he laughed then turned serious.

"Well, you'll never find more than four chords, that's for sure," he said, smiling. "Because every time you put another chord in there, you have to be responsible for it. It's another variable that has to be dealt with.

" 'Shine On' is a two-chord song. Just two chords over and over again through the whole song."

Cruz still sounded alternately amazed and embarrassed talking about the fact.

While the songwriting process comes slowly, it is also second nature to him — and siblings Ernie Jr., Guy and Tiffa who are also professional musicians.

"Because of my family, I thought everybody sang and played," said Cruz, recalling his childhood in Palolo Valley Housing. "At home, we had music on all the time. ... The record player was the focus of the house. Every week, my mom would bring home new records — mostly soul records. Motown, the Supremes, Aretha Franklin, Marvin Gaye, Teddy Pendergrass. We were getting the good stuff."

Cruz's mother, Doreen, had sung in bands during and after graduating high school. His father, well-known local country singer Ernie Cruz Sr., meanwhile instilled in his son a love of the rootsy '70s country of Kenny Rogers, Merle Haggard, Charlie Rich, Loretta Lynn and Tammy Wynette. On his own, John absorbed vinyl LPs of Earth, Wind & Fire, Stevie Wonder and other pop-soul masters.

The effect this would have on his decision to pursue music, Cruz said, was rather unconscious. He chose to learn 'ukulele instead of violin in his 'Anuenue Elementary music class. He admiringly watched his dad and older brother Ernie Jr. jam in the house and at parties.

"I always used to want to be as close to them as possible," said Cruz. "When my dad was playing, I wanted to be right there ... just so I could feel some of that energy, too."

Cruz learned tuning, playing and reading music from watching, asking questions and experimenting. He copped chords watching Ernie Jr. play with his high school band, eventually graduating to bar gigs with his dad and brother.

SONIC GUIDES

Much of John Cruz's original compositions on "Acoustic Soul" were inspired by his 12 years away from Hawai'i.

Cruz had moved to the Northeast in 1983 to attend the University of Massachusetts at Amherst, eventually settling in New York City in 1986. Once in Manhattan, he explored every avenue on the musical-career map.

He played in bands while hooking up solo gigs in Greenwich Village bars and coffee shops. He sang background vocals on other musicians' albums and took gigs singing lead on songwriter demos. He hired a manager and pursued a record deal. Cruz even busked in the subways, when necessary.

"New York was a great town. There was bar after bar. Five acts a night. ... You've got a half-hour to do something," said Cruz. "I used to love going to those little clubs and just seeing unbelievable players. ... That's pretty much all I did."

But by 1995, he found himself frustrated with the dance-music turn a band he was in was taking and inspired by the royalty checks he was receiving for writing the radio hit "You Don't Write" for brother Ernie Jr.'s Ka'au Crater Boys. Cruz's thoughts turned toward Hawai'i. He returned home to work on a Ka'au CD and stayed to finally put together his own.

Cruz's compositions spanned his years away from home and family. "Impossible Anna" was written in 1986. "The River Runs" reflected his Island-boy lives on Martha's Vineyard, Manhattan and O'ahu. "Shine On" was originally written for Entrain, the band he had parted with.

"I wrote 'Island Style' right before I moved back to Hawai'i," said Cruz. "The beginning of the song was written in New York, and I finished the song when I was back in Hawai'i."

Cruz used what he called "the final frontier" of Hawaiian contemporary music — the songs of rootsy '70s bands such as Country Comfort and Olomana — as a sonic guide while recording "Acoustic Soul."

"I was trying to take off right from where they left off," said Cruz. "I wanted to just take all of that stuff that had happened from Jawaiian to Hawaiian Style Band and just kind of disregard all of that and get right back to where music mattered and felt a certain way."

Nothing on "Acoustic Soul" was casually thrown together. Cruz's song selections — both his own works and covers of songs like Jimmy Cliff's "Sitting in Limbo" — were chosen carefully. He even analyzed the album's song sequencing.

"I'm a pretty analytical person," said Cruz, grinning. "And I analyzed the (expletive) out of everything to make it seem as if it wasn't analyzed at all — to make it seem so natural.

" 'Acoustic Soul' was a culmination of all my musical experiences — taking all that I had learned musically and going back to the acoustic guitar, which I always had coming from Hawai'i. ... It validated, for me, all the sacrifices I had made — going up to the East Coast, separating myself from my family. Everything."

And it wound up way more successful than Cruz ever dreamed.

STRUCK BY STARDOM

With Cruz already home for about a year playing bass and getting solo spots for his songs on stage with Ernie Jr. and Troy Fernandez in Ka'au Crater Boys, "Acoustic Soul" hit big in 1996.

Songs from the disc were in heavy rotation on island contemporary radio stations. It nabbed Cruz seven Na Hoku Hanohano award nominations, winning two for most promising artist and contemporary album of the year.

Cruz was also suddenly able to tour solo and draw crowds on every island. There was no more playing bars to pay the rent.

Having "Acoustic Soul" on his own Lilikoi record label meant Cruz was under no pressure to follow it up immediately. He produced records for Makana and his brother Guy Cruz, and worked on his music at his own pace.

"I was in a position where I could help young bands and artists ... where I could do something positive for them," said John Cruz. "It had taken me 33 years to come out with my first record. What's the rush to put out a second one?"

And so he kept playing.

ADDICTION TROUBLES

"When I was addicted to crack cocaine it was hard to function because it's not a social drug," said Cruz. "Cocaine, when you snort it, is a social drug. ... You want to drink more. It makes you want to talk more. It brings you up. ... You want to be around people.

"When you smoke it, it's a completely different animal. You don't want to be around anybody. You're real paranoid. It's a dark thing."

The peak of Cruz's drug use coincided with one of the lowest points in his life, three years before the Anna's gigs, while playing large shows solo and with Ka'au.

"Looking back on that period ... at pictures and stuff, I can see why my family and people were so concerned about me," said Cruz. "There was cause to be concerned. ... I was not in a very healthy place both psychologically and physically."

Cruz had been experimenting with drugs since his New York years — snorting cocaine and drinking heavily to get through the odd hours and relentless road tours while playing with Entrain. Once Cruz returned home and found fame with "Acoustic Soul," however, drugs served a different purpose.

"Being famous is not something that I've ever wanted, really," said Cruz. "Besides going out and playing music and stuff, I kind of like to stay at home ... fixing something or just fishing or whatever. Because when I do have to go out and deal with people, I have to really deal with them."

Cruz began finding it increasingly difficult being public figure John Cruz. He was grateful his music inspired people enough to come up and tell him so at gas stations and supermarkets and accepted the recognition that came with his fame. But it began to trouble him.

"If I didn't care about people, it would've been easy," said Cruz. "But being someone who cared about people and also knowing how much that album meant to people because they would tell me about it all the time, that's what put the pressure on me.

"For me, being someone who was so much in the public eye was the most difficult thing."

And so somewhere in 1999, John Cruz simply dropped out of performing, dropped out of music and almost dropped out of life.

'THERE'S ALWAYS LOVE'

According to Cruz, his low-key Anna Bannana's performances in November 2002 "was part of me just trying to get comfortable with being in front of people."

"At that time, I had just gotten out of pretty much slumming around Waikiki — living in hotel rooms, living day-to-day, getting money, paying money for another night at a hotel."

He had quit smoking crack cocaine and began using crystal methamphetamine in an unorthodox attempt to slowly rid himself of his drug dependency.

"I was using then. (But) I was weaning myself," said Cruz. "It's like what they say about heroin addicts. To get off heroin, you have to have methadone because your body needs something.

"Part of that Anna's gig was me slowly coming out of the darkness and trying to get back to the light. ... I had already come quite a ways. ... People who haven't gone through it don't realize what a long, hard and slow road it is. Because I didn't get there overnight. It took me a long time to get there."

Over the past four years, Cruz has come out of the darkness, he said, slowly, without going through a detox program.

"I feel good about myself now. And I'm feeling good because I know how far I've come," said Cruz. "I've come such a long way now, that I can even talk about it. I've always talked about it to other addicts because no one else would listen to me. But to be able to talk about it with people who aren't and to be able to get understanding is so huge. ... I now have people who understand me and support me. Real people. Real friends."

Uncomfortable consequences of his years of drug use remain. Truglio's film references why Cruz's three children are no longer in his custody and why relationships with some family members are strained.

Cruz said he is currently closest to his brother Guy Cruz, sister Tiffa Cruz and father Ernie Cruz Sr. Asked who in his family he would like to heal things with most, Cruz was clear.

"I'd like to heal things with everyone. Because I know there's a lot of pain. There's a lot of hurt. And the only reason why there's hurt is because there was love there to begin with," said Cruz. "There's always love, you know? It's just, we're dealing with our hurt."

Cruz said he's confident, clear of mind and better equipped to handle the kind of daily struggles he couldn't just a few years ago.

"I have good, real positive stretches," said Cruz. "I still have a lot of things that I'm working through. ... (But) I'm not getting dragged down to where (drugs) are my only outlet. That's what happens when you feel that the only thing you can turn to is that.

"That's what I was. I have a lot more options now than that."

FINDING COMFORT

Recording and releasing a new CD is a large part of John Cruz's healing.

"I'm excited now because I'm getting geared up to, like — grrrrrr! — attack the music business again with all my facilities intact," said Cruz. "I'm sharpening my knives, taping up my ankles, doing some stretches.

"It's going to do a lot for me just to have it because music has always grounded me. Music has always been an inclusive thing for me. And coming from that isolation, it's really going to be good for me. It's just going to expand my world again."

Like "Acoustic Soul," the new disc's track list will include original works, songs from friends and a few covers. While perhaps not as completely uplifting as the songs on "Acoustic Soul," Cruz said the disc would honestly reflect the last decade of his life, including where he stands today.

Cruz is producing it, recording it for his own Lilikoi label and releasing it next spring. And if original songs such as the painfully personal ballad "Missing You" and sweetly hopeful "Be There" are any indication, the new CD's tracks should showcase John Cruz in peak songwriting form.

He's now even "grateful and thankful" that folks still approach to share thoughts about what songs on "Acoustic Soul" meant to them.

"That means it's alive ... that that record still has life," said Cruz. "That goes beyond any kind of expectations. If this album has half the impact 'Acoustic Soul' had, it'll be amazing. I know how rare it is that an album has that type of effect."

Asked where he is mind, body and spirit, Cruz's reply was quick.

"I'm right here, man! Right in front of you. I'm right in front of me, too," he said. "I'm a lot more comfortable in my skin now. ... I'm a lot more comfortable with who I am."

What keeps him believing he'll be OK is even easier to explain.

"Other people. I see myself reflected in people. And when I'm giving life to people, they're giving it back to me. Everybody!

"To have people's confidence and to have people actually pulling for me is so amazing."

MUSIC MAN SHARES LIFE STORY ON FILM

Unlike all too many celluloid anointments of local heroes, Kaua'i filmmaker Leslie Cole Truglio's 70-minute documentary "Made of Music: The Story of John Cruz" is a warts-and-all profile of local singer-songwriter/musician John Cruz.

Made up of interviews and live performances recorded and shot between April 2005 and June 2006, it is Truglio's first feature-length film. A former CNN musicsegment producer, she has interviewed artists such as Billy Joel, Bruce Springsteen, Madonna, Ray Charles and Aretha Franklin.

Truglio, 42, first met Cruz in late 2004 after a Kaua'i performance. She asked if he was interested in sharing his life story on film; he immediately warmed to the idea.

"John is so articulate and so open and so honest. He's also very funny, very easygoing and good-natured," said Truglio. "He's very watchable (and) a dynamic and intense performer. And I just thought all of those elements combined ... would make (a film) something that people would really want to see."

Cruz also had a relentlessly interesting life story, having lived through much triumph and tragedy in his 42 years.

"The most amazing thing to me about John is that he never gives up. He always maintains a hopeful, positive attitude. And his faith, his strength and his perseverance are unbelievable," said Truglio. "No matter how hard he gets knocked down, he always bounces back.

"That resilient quality is so inspiring to me. It's what I hope people take away from the film and what I hope they remember about him."

Also shaping Truglio's documentary are interviews with Cruz's father, country singer Ernie Cruz Sr., and sisters Doodie Downs and Tiffa Cruz. Inspired friends Jack Johnson, Jake Shimabukuro and Kelly Slater share thoughts on Cruz's music. Jackson Browne lends the film its title with a fond description of Cruz.

"He's in a wonderful place right now and I hope it continues," said Truglio, of Cruz. "He's focused. He's excited. He's in his element. He's where he belongs and he's thriving."

— Derek Paiva

Reach Derek Paiva at dpaiva@honoluluadvertiser.com.