A musical in which an anxious teenager gains social status amongst his peers by pretending to be the best friend of a classmate who has committed suicide seems like an unlikely bet for commercial success. However, it is clear from the way in which Dear Evan Hansen has flourished on stage—with lengthy stints on Broadway and in the West End—that audiences are deeply moved by this open-hearted show.
Dear Evan Hansen is not the first musical I have seen which tackles the challenges of adolescence—two years ago, I was impressed by Rupert Goold’s focused revival of Spring Awakening—but it is undoubtedly one of the most poignant. At various points, I could hear audience members quietly sobbing, and I must confess that there were times when I was also moved to tears.
Painfully shy and introverted, Evan (Ryan Kopel) struggles to connect with those around him. His affectionate mother, Heidi (Alice Fearn), does her best to offer support, but the demands of being a nurse—and the sole breadwinner of the family—take up most of her time. Evan is mirrored by Connor (Killian Thomas Lefevre)—a fellow high-school student—who also struggles to make friends, his volatile nature scaring away any potential allies, including his younger sister Zoe (Lauren Conroy).
Evan inadvertently becomes embroiled in Connor’s suicide when the latter dies whilst in possession of a self-addressed letter that Evan wrote as a therapeutic exercise (hence the title of the musical). Confronted by Connor’s grief-ridden parents, Cynthia (Helen Anker) and Larry (Richard Hurst), Evan invents a friendship that never existed in order to offer a gentler, kinder version of their deceased son. However, as the deceptions build, it becomes clear that Evan enjoys the attention that he is now getting, particularly when a speech he delivers at school goes unexpectedly viral.
I have not seen the 2021 film version of Dear Evan Hansen, but I’m aware that it was critically mauled—not least because the leading man, Ben Platt, was far too old to convince as a teenager. Another common complaint was that the film version struggled to portray Evan in a way that allowed us to empathise with him, despite the way in which he deceives and manipulates Connor’s grieving family.
For the most part, this production of Dear Evan Hansen manages to portray the title character in a way that feels psychologically credible whilst also allowing us to care for him. This is largely due to Ryan Kopel’s superb performance, which powerfully conveys Evan’s overwhelming self-doubt. Furthermore, he also possesses a powerful voice as demonstrated by his rendition of the anthemic “Waving Through a Window”.
I was deeply affected by Alice Fearn’s wonderful performance as Evan’s mother. For much of the production, she is a tower of maternal strength (she needs to be strong for her son) but we see this edifice crumble at certain points, and her emotional communion with Evan during the penultimate song (“So Big / So Small”) was beautifully rendered.
Helen Anker excels as Connor’s grieving mother, and she is ably supported by Richard Hurst as her prickly husband. Lauren Conroy also impresses as Zoe, whose dislike for her now-deceased brother is shaken by Evan’s more flattering version of him.
Amidst all the simmering tension, there are moments of levity. Tom Dickerson is pleasingly obnoxious as Jared, Evan’s socially maladjusted cousin, who helps him to perpetuate his deception, and Vivian Panka is fantastic as Alana, a well-meaning do-gooder who latches onto Connor’s story in order to give her life greater meaning.
There is also an impressively versatile performance from Killian Thomas Lefevre. Surly and unpredictable in the early scenes, he becomes an imaginary playmate for Evan and Jared when they start impersonating him over e-mail, resulting in one of the evening’s most imaginative numbers, “Sincerely Me”.
The songwriters Benj Pasek and Justin Paul are rightly lauded for their award-winning film scores—including the Oscar-winning song “City of Stars”, which they wrote for La La Land—but, in my opinion, their score for Dear Evan Hansen surpasses anything else they have done.
The musical’s obsession with social media is powerfully captured in Morgan Large’s minimalist set, with screens being used to project the enormous online response to Evan’s viral video. Furthermore, the use of sliding screens, which are used to clearly delineate different spaces, neatly encapsulates the title character’s feeling of isolation.
Having heard a lot about Dear Evan Hansen beforehand, my expectations were high. I’m glad to report that Adam Penford’s gripping and emotionally rich production did not disappoint. Furthermore, I would say that it is one of the best musicals I have seen in recent years.