NEW YORK â On Sunday night, Bradley Dean lost his virginity for what is likely the last time.
For the past six weeks, Dean, a longtime Broadway ensemble member, understudy and replacement-cast mainstay, has played Falco, the real estate tycoon who thwarts the motor-crossed lovers in Jim Steinmanâs extravagant, apocalyptic âBat Out of Hell: The Musical.â
In the first act, Deanâs Falco and Lena Hallâs Sloane tear off their clothes, hop atop a burnished Dodge convertible and belt âParadise by the Dashboard Light,â a paean to teenage sex. âI love that song so much,â said Dean, who lost his offstage virginity in a car parked at a Pennsylvania community pool and can relate.
He performs that song and others â âWhat Part of My Body Hurts the Most,â âWho Needs the Young,â âIâd Do Anything for Love (But I Wonât Do That)â â with a throaty baritone and an affectionate, chest-hair-flashing nod to the showâs absurdities.
Dean, 49, participated in a 2015 workshop of âBat Out of Hell,â which retells the Peter Pan story with more sex and guns and flaming motorcycles. In 2018, he joined the Toronto cast, signing on for a North American tour, which producers then canceled, apart from the New York City Center run that ended Sunday. This past month, he spent his off hours rehearsing the role of Monsieur AndrĂ© in âThe Phantom of the Opera.â He joins that production Wednesday.
Just before the final âBat Out of Hell,â performance, Dean, who had traded his characterâs skinny jeans for his own, returned to his dressing room, mostly emptied, to discuss his rock ânâ roll dreams and postshow despair. These are excerpts from the conversation.
Q: What can you tell me about Falco?
A: Heâs very misunderstood. He doesnât really do anything too terrible. I mean, he does drug his daughter and he does kill Tink (a teenage character in the show), but itâs an accident. We are in a post-apocalyptic landscape, and heâs the only adult around. He is in charge of protecting his family. At his heart, heâs a really good dad. With rage issues.
Q: When the North American tour was canceled, you vented your frustration on Facebook.
A: I had broken my hand in the show the night that they canceled us. And so I was in pain and in shock. I donât even remember writing that Facebook post. It got plastered everywhere, and I was like, âOh no, I called my producers fools.â
Q: How has the New York audience been?
A: Amazing. The people that this show is right for, theyâre my kind of people. I grew up in a little town, Pottsville, Pennsylvania, a depressed, impoverished area. Something about the panoramic scope of this music, it was an escape. So I think itâs for people with that story, with that heart that wants to expand and bloom. Romantics, dreamers, common men. I go to the stage door, and I just commune.
Q: How do you feel about your costumes? Some of them are pretty minimal.
A: They didnât tell me that I would be basically naked until the first day of rehearsal. I was like, âDamn it, you got to tell a brother that, you want to give a brother a month on that so I can stop eating and hit the gym real hard.â
Q: Is it fun to lose your virginity every night?
A: âParadise by the Dashboard Lightâ was one of the first music videos I remember, the first time I saw something that was a little titillating. So it has a very specific place in my history, and itâs literally the most fun Iâve ever had on the stage. And Lena Hall is about the most fun person I could hope to work with. Her voice is just always so dead center in the middle of the pitch.
Q: How sweaty are you by the end of the show?
A: Extremely sweaty. Itâs theater as athletic event. In the moment, you donât feel that way. And then you get offstage and youâre like: âOh no! Iâm broken!â
Q: How have you kept yourself healthy?
A: I go to physical therapy. For my host of injuries. My shoulder has been jacked this whole time. And itâs the vocal Olympics.
Q: So when youâre singing âWhat Part of My Body Hurts the Mostâ youâre taking inventory.
A: Itâs very meta. I really am.
Q: Whatâs it like to unleash your rock voice?
Itâs the greatest feeling ever. It took a while to figure out how to navigate it, because itâs extraordinarily high and the keys just keep modulating and the songs are 10 minutes long and weâre sprinting around stage and tearing off our clothes. But I figured it out.
Q: Has anyone exciting come backstage?
A: Meat Loaf. My kids were here the night he came. Meat Loaf actually came up to my son and sang âWho Needs the Young,â like a whole verse of it.
Q: Youâve had a solid career, though most of your roles have been understudy parts and replacements. Whatâs it like coming second?
A: I donât think of it that way in any way. I remind myself all the time how fortunate I am. Iâve gotten really close to a lot of things, to originating a great role, and each time itâs fallen through. Thatâs the difference between a star and not. I just keep showing up, singing my face off and tearing off my clothes.
Q: Do you think youâve learned anything about rock ânâ roll?
A: Just how much I love it. Iâve never felt as full of life as I feel singing this music. I want to do it over and over again. I hope this show has another life. Tonight, thatâs the end of my time with this character and I have to tell myself, âMaybe it will happen again.â Or the heartbreak is too much to endure.
Q: Will you tear it up at the party tonight?
A: I have rehearsal at noon, so no. But Iâll definitely have some tears and some beers and bid adieu for now.
This article originally appeared in
.