Interview: Olivier Winner David Bedella Rediscovers & Juliet and New York City at the Same Time

Having spent the better part of the 1980s and 1990s traversing the United States in tours like Jesus Christ Superstar and La Cage aux Folles, David Bedella made his first (and until now) last appearance on Broadway in Smokey Joe’s Cafe in 1995. BIll Clinton was President.

Relocating to London in 2001, the Indiana native has gone on to hit it huge in the West End, winning an Olivier Award in 2004 for famously playing Satan in the original production of Jerry Springer: The Opera. In his new home country, he’d further play iconic roles like Hedwig and Frank-N-Futter, Arnold in Torch Song Trilogy, Kevin Rosario in In the Heights (for which he won a second Olivier), and the “Teenage Dream”-singing Lance in & Juliet, which earned him his third Olivier. Not bad.

For the next few months, while Paulo Szot is away doing opera engagements, Bedella is returning to New York and & Juliet, playing Lance on Broadway at the Stephen Sondheim Theatre. There’s an odd deja vu about it, by its a feeling that Bedella welcomes more than he ever expected.

This conversation has been condensed and edited for clarity.

It’s been roughly two years since you put & Juliet to bed in London. Did it feel like just yesterday when you were stepping back into it?
Yes. They sent me the script to get ready and we did a quick skim of it, and then I got up and put it on its feet and the words were just there. I didn’t have to reach for them, I didn’t struggle and ask what happens next. I forget sometimes that I’ve been with the project for more than five years. I did the very first workshop in 2017 in Los Angeles, that was the first time the words had ever been spoken out loud. It’s in my bones.

Does it feel like a homecoming for you?
It really does, in the best possible sense. The welcome has been very warm and gracious, and a lot of people are making an effort. It’s a bit exhausting in the sense that I am reconnecting with so many friends that I haven’t seen. They’re coming out of the woodwork to say hello. I am spending every waking minute talking, from phone calls to meetings to rehearsals, lunch plans, dinner plans, after show plans. It’s the most social I’ve been in about 25 years.

And to be greeted with the show itself…You have to remember, not every show is accepted the way that this one is. The standing ovations. The people leaving the theater just gloriously happy. You don’t get that with every show. And for a lot of them, this is their first Broadway experience. When my agent got the call asking if I would consider a conversation about returning, I think they thought that after five years of me pouring my heart and soul into this show, it was a big ask to come back and do it again. But once you’re here and in it, it’s just so much fun and so gratifying that it’s not really a big ask.

You moved to London in 2001. Was coming back to New York for a prolonged period a big ask?
Certainly not coming back to the show. I knew that was going to be a pretty wonderful experience. But my memory of New York, 25 years ago, was that it required nonstop energy. When I left after 11 years, I was exhausted. I thought I was done with theater. I was done with the rat race, where you had to work constantly to keep up with everybody and stay in the game. You had to be in acting class, voice lessons, taking care of your body, all the things that it takes to keep doing eight shows a week, plus looking towards the next project. I was tired. I had a bit of trepidation about returning to that pace, but I’m not involved to that degree anymore. I’m a bit more established and I’ve got enough experience under my belt that I’m just doing my work right now. That’s a lovely thing.

What is it like to do the show here, as opposed to in London?
Doing the show here with a whole new company has felt very surreal. At times, I see the costumes that I know so well and there’s almost a subconscious “Oh, there’s Alex,” and I look up and it’s not Alex. It’s quite a strange sensation. This production is a match in talent and creativity, but with a different spin on it.

I’ve been truly blessed with the relationship with my son and my Angelique. My biggest concern was if I was going to adore the actors in those two roles, because my whole show is based on that. I was so lucky to have Tim Mahendran and Melanie La Barrie in London. The click was so profound that it never felt like work; it was a genuine love relationship out there. I thought I’d never find that again, which meant that I was going to have to be a great actor to recreate it every night with people that might not have the same feel. But it’s such a joy to be here with Charity Angél Dawson and Phillipe Arroyo. We have every bit as much of a strong connection, and I love and respect the way that they work. The click was on day one and it feels like smooth sailing.

I think I’m managing my energy levels better, because it doesn’t seem as exhausting. I think there’s a real luxury in doin a show away from home sometimes. When I’m at home, I’m constantly working on the house and running errands and grocery shopping, all the stuff you have to do to maintain daily life. When you go away to do a show for six months, I’m living in a lovely accommodation and there’s nothing to do during the day except rest and sleep and take the occasional class. I have quite a pampered life right now, which makes a difference.

The last time I was here, I was doing Smokey Joe’s Café, which was right here at the Virginia Theatre and I’m living near there and I couldn’t have chosen a better place to drop me down for lodging. I know these streets like nowhere else in New York. Obviously, quite a few restaurants have changed, but the neighborhood itself is the same as when I left it, except the Virginia is now called the August Wilson. It makes me feel like an old man, in the best way. When I was here, I would listen to the old guys talk about how life was like here in the 1950s and thought “Gosh, that must have been amazing.” Now, I’m the guy telling stories about the 1990s. The kids look at me and say “Oh, my God, he’s so old.”