US Magazine
January 1995

Man and Superman

Cooler than you would ever think, more ambitions that a Hollywood agent, able to leap over his 
peers in a single bound, meet Dean Cain.

By Mark Morrison
Photographs by Butch Belair


He is strapped in a harness suspended from a crane 50 feet in the air.  And though he wears the 
most famous red, yellow, and blue costume in the history of Western civilization, he is not 
Superman.

In fact, Dean Cain is actually afraid of heights.  But the former Princeton University football 
hero and ex-Buffalo Bill doesn’t panic.  Flipping upside down, Cain dangles head first from 
steel cables.  He can see a crowd gathering and the air bag positioned below -- just in case.  
Then, suddenly, all 190 pounds of him is hurtling bungee style toward Earth, free-falling 30 
feet (in Superman-to-the-rescue post no less) before decelerating.  Later, he admits it’s a 
helluva rush.  "But at the same time," he says, "I’m kind of going, ‘I don’t want to die in 
tights!’"

That’s the thing about playing Superman.  The suit that Cain wears as the star of ABC’s Lois and 
Clark: The New Adventures of Superman has carried an inordinate amount of baggage for the grown 
men (Christopher Reeve, George Reeves) who have worn it.  Though Cain fills it well, he wears a 
robe over the costume between takes and substitutes Nikes for his uncomfortable Superman boots 
whenever possible.  Mostly, though, he tries not to take the role too seriously -- which is in 
keeping with the series, a lush, romantic hour when the repartee can be as dizzying as the 
action.  And while Cain may not be Robert De Niro, he manages to make both Clark Kent and the 
Man of Steel surprisingly human.

"He’s very secure in who he is, so he’s not uncomfortable bringing a piece of Dean Cain to every 
part," says the series’ executive producer, Robert Singer.

Though a teenage Dean appeared fleetingly in 1984’s The Stone Boy, a moody film directed by his 
stepfather, Christopher Cain (Young Guns, The Next Karate Kid), it was his 1992 turn as Brenda 
Walsh’s boyfriend, Rick, on Beverly Hills, 90210 that led to Lois and Clark.  (90210 producer 
Aaron Spelling was reportedly miffed that Cain slipped through his fingers -- the actor lost the 
role of Jake on Melrose Place to Grant Show and was out of town when he was called to read for 
the role of Billy.)

"I don’t want to be a Beefcake Dude," says Cain, who is so unselfconscious about his hunky looks 
that you can’t possibly hold them against him.  "That’s not the idea behind the show.  Clark is 
a nice guy, and if Superman happens to be built, that’s great.  But I don’t feel like the role’s 
limiting.  It’s so specific that I’m wide open to do everything else."

And Cain isn’t one to wait for offers.  Already he’s writing a Lois and Clark episode for this 
season, and he’s producing, writing and hosting Off Camera, an ABC special that catches up with 
celebrities as they’re enjoying their favorite pastimes -- sort of a Charlie Rose meets MTV 
Sports.  "I couldn’t just act," he says, relaxing in his trailer, a dull compartment brightened 
only by photos of his girlfriend, the volleyball start-turned-supermodel Gabrielle Reece.  "I 
have to film-make, I have to write, I have to direct.  Not that it’s compulsive. I’m the first 
guy to sit on my ass and relax."

But between early-morning workouts with a trainer ("I have millions of people looking at me as a 
superhero, so I’d better be in shape") and long days on the set, Cain barely has ten minutes to 
walk his three dogs.  One thing he finds time for, however, is his burgeoning relationship with 
Reece, who, at six foot three, stands three inches above him.  The two met at a fashion show 
last May and began dating a month later.  While they keep separate residences, they usually 
spend nights at Cain’s rented Pacific Palisades home.

"I have more respect for Gabby than I can ever remember having for another person," Cain says, 
though he denies tabloid reports of an impending marriage.  "I would love to be married someday, 
but I’m certainly not going to rush into it.  And neither is Gabby."

Despite ordering a nonfat lunch of steamed chicken, rice and veggies in his trailer, what Cain 
really craves is pizza.  Breaking regimen -- something he usually saves for weekends -- he jumps 
into his black Bronco and heads for a local Italian bistro where he takes a seat beneath a 
caricature of his namesake, Dean Martin.

The name thing was his mother’s idea.  Cain was born at Selfridge Air Force Base, near Detroit, 
thanks to his grandfather, a Navy commander.  By then his parents had already split up, and his 
mother, a petite blond actress named Sharon Thomas, soon moved Dean and his older brother, 
Roger, to Los Angeles, where she met director Cain.  They were married when Dean was four (he 
also has a younger sister, Krisinda, from this union), and when he speaks of his father (as in 
"My dad didn’t want me to act, he didn’t want to subject me to the ridicule"), he’s talking 
about Cain.

His biological father was half Japanese, which accounts for the ethnic contours of Cain’s face.  
Though he’s seen two photos of the man and knows his name, the two have never talked or met.  
For now, that’s the way he wants it, and he jokes that his biggest fear is that one day his 
mother will show up on Oprah.

"He’s not something I think about, ever," Dean says, though he admits to having become more 
curious about his heritage as he’s gotten older.  But he’s fiercely loyal when he says: "I feel 
like I’m disrespecting Chris Cain by talking about this other guy.  He could have been dead 
before I was born, and I wouldn’t know the difference.  I look at him like a sperm donor: 
Thanks for the genes, buddy."

Throughout Dean’s childhood, Chris Cain made low-budget movies, and the family moved up as he 
did, leaving a Malibu trailer park for more comfortable Point Dume digs.  As a kid, Dean played 
baseball with Charlie Sheen, football with Chris Penn and, as the seventh-grade president, 
served on the student council with ninth-grader Rob Lowe.   "The guy’s just a natural," says 
Lowe, who admits he later modeled the driven young athlete he played in Youngblood on Cain.  
"Sean, Emilio, Charlie and myself were always focused on being actors, but we thought we were 
more likely to be watching Dean in the World Series or something."

"There was never a time when I was not good at sports," says Cain.  Especially football.  But 
the game was always a means to an education.  At Princeton, he set a record for most 
interceptions in a season while also scoring romantically with campus coed Brooke Shields, one 
of only four "real relationships" he says he’s had.  (He’s dated Baywatch’s Pamela Anderson and 
actress Ami Dolenz but calls last year’s rumors of an affair with his Lois and Clark co-star, 
the recently married Teri Hatcher, "complete rubbish.")

After graduation in 1998, Cain was drafted by the Bill and went through minicamp, but an 
irreparable knee injury forced him off the team before the season started.  Though he sued for 
breach of contract and settled out of court, Cain still has his No. 36 NFL jersey and says: "I 
had that question answered in my mind.  Could I play football? Yes, absolutely."

But it wasn’t just his natural ability that enabled him to shine as an athlete; it was an 
intense mental focus that allowed him to finish whatever he started.  And it’s the same 
commitment he brings to acting.  "I’m not polished, but I work my ass off," he says as he heads 
back to the set.  "I will struggle with something till I get it.  There’s no pride thing for me, 
because you’re not going to look bad till you learn and get better.  That’s the way I approach 
everything in life."