Review: 'Dear Evan Hansen'

Reader discretion advised: blunt discussion of suicide and spoilers

It’s not often that I’m disappointed when I go to the theatre, and I go fairly often, but after seeing Dear Evan Hansen I left with bitter frustration. For a show deemed a “gorgeous heartbreaker of a musical” that “has grown in emotional potency” according to The New York Times, Dear Evan Hansen felt ineffective in its attempt to tackle the themes of teen suicide and mental illness in the age of the internet.

Noah Kieserman as 'Connor Murphy' and Stephen Christopher Anthony as 'Evan Hansen' in the North American touring company of DEAR EVAN HANSEN. Photo by Matthew Murphy

To give a quick summary of the show, Dear Evan Hansen [DEH] tells the story of a lonely, socially awkward high schooler that fabricates a friendship with a recently-deceased classmate and becomes closer to the victim’s family in a misguided attempt to offer them comfort. As the lie grows larger and more complex, it’s abundantly clear that eventually this house of cards will soon come tumbling down — that’s the nicest way I can put it. In what could have easily been drama exploring the emotional turbulent landscape of high school or the ramifications of fake news in the social media era, what we’re left with is a semi-sad story where everything works out for everybody except for the dead kid.

The cast does an outstanding job from start to finish. Stephen Christopher Anthony excels as the lanky, socially awkward Even Hansen. From his vocal tone to his standoff-ish body language, he’s nailed the character, and his singing is impassioned. He, paired with Stephanie La Rochelle as Zoe Murphy are the only two who could truly pass as high schoolers, but I digress. I will admit, despite the lack of variety of musical styles throughout the show, Dear Evan Hansen does have some extremely catching songs (I’m still humming “For Forever”).

Stephen Christopher Anthony as 'Evan Hansen' and the North American touring company of DEAR EVAN HANSEN. Photo by Matthew Murphy

David Korins’s scenic design is masterfully done in a way that creates an intimate depth to the experiences, making the stage feel vast and spacious while simultaneously engulfing us in the heartfelt thoughts of the titular character and the various social media streams he subscribes to.

The first act of the show flows smoothly at a pace that keeps audiences on edge as the protagonist continues to raise the stakes. Just about all of the second act is irredeemable and disingenuous to everything the show has been praised for by larger publications.

Noah Kieserman as 'Connor Murphy,' Claire Rankin as 'Cynthia Murphy,' John Hemphill as 'Larry Murphy,' and Stephanie La Rochelle as 'Zoe Murphy. Photo by Matthew Murphy

Audiences get a show centered around two suicidal teenagers and never get any exploration into why they’re suicidal. That’s what really makes Dear Evan Hansen ring hollow to me. I understand us not exploring Connor Murphy’s character, but to discover that Evan Hansen is in that same place, we should really learn what’s put him there. DEH is disingenuous to younger audiences who may be attracted to this because it’s showing them that someone has felt those same pains that they may have in this awkward emotional stage, but it’s not showing how to overcome them. It’s the equivalent of theatrical thoughts and prayers to potentially emotionally vulnerable youth. I can understand how this show could be captivating to younger audiences — I saw plenty of tearful young adults in the theatre. DEH is palatable for young audiences, and to them, it’s probably great. I hoped that I could relate, as someone that was the awkward high schooler and whose actual best friend committed suicide in high school — but I didn’t.

We get a family that’s decided to ignore the truth and live with the lie, and no insight into how they come to this decision, which rings of lazy writing. For a grieving parent to find out that this kid whom they’ve let into their home, who has spent the night under their roof, who has been a surrogate son, and has begun a romantic relationship with their daughter has done all of this under fraudulent pretense is a lot to come to grips with. This is a stranger that — regardless of his motives — has exploited their son’s suicide for personal gain. We as an audience deserve to see how the Murphys deal with this revelation, but we’re robbed of that opportunity. Even when Evan’s own mom sees through his final facade, rather than getting any sort of comeuppance, we’re given a mediocre song about how she felt when Evan’s dad left.

Despite all of that, I would still recommend seeing Dear Evan Hansen. It’s a well performed production with catchy songs and strong voices, and it’s a great ice breaker for the conversation around mental health, social media, and suicide.