“Do you think he’s gonna show the letter to other people?”
“He’s going to ruin your life with it”
Dear Valued Reader,
Today is going to be a great day and let me tell you why. Because today (and most days between today and Sunday, September 25th), you have the chance to buy tickets to see the incomparable Dear Evan Hansen at the Kennedy Center!
This is the time where I can tell you how Dear Evan Hansen is the winner of six Tony Awards, including Best Musical and Best Original Score, and blah, blah, blah; but when you experience Dear Evan Hansen, you can see why everyone includes this in the conversation of this show. This show is special. This show is relatable. This show has a message… that isn’t really the message, but then isn’t that the message? And the music? Bring a tissue, it’s going to hit your soul.
With the advent of social media, we live in an age where we can “always see and never be seen.” Nowadays it is so easy to hide behind a wall of posts that showcase what the poster wants to appear as true, instead of the truth. To feel like you can (or already did) disappear in broad daylight, in full view of all the physical bodies surrounding you as they stare endlessly into their digital screens. To always be “connected,” but all too commonly feel “disconnected.” Add this to the later stages of puberty and High School, and you have yourself a recipe for loneliness and a longing to do anything to be seen.
And that’s precisely where we find our characters.
With Book by Steven Levenson and Music and Lyrics by Benj Pasek and Justin Paul, the story of Dear Evan Hansen is in its simplest form, the tale of someone being swept up in a lie that gets out of hand. And I do feel compelled to warn you, that lie does surround the suicide of a classmate and Evan’s attempt to bring relief to a grieving family. But the execution of this trope is layered in such a way that once you learn the reveal you didn’t expect, suddenly replaying the words Evan used to tell those stories of lies becomes gut wrenching in their nuance.
From the moment you walk into the theatre, it is hard to ignore the immersive stage projections of social media scrolls against a dark background while your ears are (lightly) assaulted with the never-ending pings, clicks, and notification alerts we experience every day in our digital lives. This pre-show immersion is a part of the intelligent Scenic Design by David Korins coupled with Projection Design by Peter Nigrini, which creates an overwhelming (yet minimalist) presence to the set. As the show goes on, this allows for fluid transitions between settings and environments while emphasizing the ever-looming presence of digital connectivity constantly surrounding us in every facet of our lives while also mixing the darkness of the void which ever-encompasses our existence.
Lighting Design by Japhy Weideman places a lot of focus on sharp, harsh spotlights that pinpoints the audience’s attention on singling out the experience of those in the…. you were expecting me to say “lime light” weren’t you? Well lime lights are soft and these lights are HARSH in their execution of the overarching theme of “look at this, this is what I want you to see.”
And when the production begins, what we see is our dear Evan Hansen, played by Anthony Norman, as he writes a letter to himself as a part of a therapy assignment. What we see is a youth, still in the thralls of puberty ladened with anxiety and nervousness and annoyingly sweaty palms for seemingly no reason. Ok, maybe that cute girl in the Jazz Band is the reason, but the uncontrollable sweaty palms are just downright annoying for anybody! But it’s that nervous, awkward energy that Norman exudes so effortlessly that endears the audience to Evan as a kid that just can’t seem to find his footing in the world even though he so desperately wants to.
Polar opposite to Evan is Zoe Murphy, played by Alaina Anderson, and her cool, collected demeanor even as she grieves the loss of her brother. Anderson transcends the poise and charm of Zoe’s character so smoothly throughout the production, it is easy to see why Evan’s character is drawn like a magnet to her. Deeper than that, Anderson is also able to emanate the complicated layers of her character that are all parts brooding teenage girl and traumatized sibling. And when I say traumatized, that includes the complicated residuals of the trauma her character experienced when her troubled brother was still alive, and the messy feelings of grief after his death.
This show is going to make you feel things, but that is not to say that it’s a total downer. Quite the contrary. There are many instances of humor and playfulness woven throughout the production that captures the essence of being a dumb teenager and the laughs it brings. One of the absolute highlights of humor was captured in the number “Sincerely Me” where we really get to see Evan’s “family friend” Jared (Pablo David Laucerica) and the now departed Connor Murphy (Nikhil Saboo) shine as they write a series of fake emails to flesh out the web of lies Even gets himself into. The vigor and energy-drink-sugar-rush springing from Laucerica and Saboo (who is here, but not really here) will definitely pump you up and make you want to bob along.
Concluding our high-school characters is Alana, played by the wonderful Michaela Lamas, who serves as a conduit for introducing Evan’s fabrications on a global scale. While metaphorically, Alana’s character serves as a representation of the common human desire to feel connected to something, even if that something is the suicide of a classmate that was barely an acquaintance, Lamas beautifully captures the facets of loneliness and feeling invisible in the age of always being surrounded.
On the other end of the age-spectrum, the parents of the show also capture the wide range of grief, hope, and love for their children, while also coming to terms with their failures as parents. Cynthia and Larry Murphy, played by Lili Thomas and John Hemphill respectively, grapple with the loss of their son and picking up the pieces that were left behind while also grasping at life-lines to pull them out from their grief in their own separate ways. Thomas and Hemphill play off each other nicely as the bored, well-to-do suburban parents who have been fighting long before tragedy knocked on their door, but also keep each other afloat in their own dysfunctional ways.
But words cannot express the depths to which Coleen Sexton absolutely nailed the “Mom” energy as Heidi Hansen. Sexton seamlessly transcends from thought to thought as the overtaxed single parent grasping to connect with and support her child. The chemistry between Sexton and Norman are genuine and solid, and she compliments the nuances of Norman’s anxious characteristics so beautifully they truly do resemble a Mother and son.
One of the interesting aspects of Dear Evan Hansen as a musical is that it is not your typical Broadway musical. Ask anyone on the street what they think of when they think of a Broadway show, and they will almost all use the keywords “song” and “dance.” While you won’t find any large, grandiose dance numbers in Dear Evan Hansen, the aspect that shines the brightest for this show is the music. While the story covers some pretty heavy topics, and the actors perform the weight of those topics well, it is the music that is going to pierce your soul. Even on its own, Pasek and Paul have created a truly emotive and enchanting score that drives home the sentiment of the characters’ feelings. While there is some dancing in certain numbers, it is heavily subdued in comparison to typical Broadway hits, often feeling much more like well-stylized blocking rather than dancing. Nevertheless, this is not a drawback. The music is powerful enough on its own to draw the audience in and maintain engagement. But I’m not kidding, bring a tissue. Whether for yourself, or so you can play the part of “the kind hero” to your neighbor.
There are few people in this world that can honestly say that High School was their time to shine. If that was you, “Good For You.” As for the rest of us, “Anybody Have a Map” to the Eisenhower Theatre at the Kennedy Center? Well once you find your way, “You Will Be Found” at an exceptional experience of music and heart. Now’s not the time to “Disappear.” They’re “Waving Through a Window” for you to come and join in the experience that is Dear Evan Hansen. So don’t take “Forever,” or you will definitely feel like singing a “Requiem” for missing out!
“Sincerely, Me.”
Running Time: 2 hours and 40 minutes with one intermission
Dear Evan Hansen plays through September 25, 2022 in the Eisenhower Theatre at The John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, 2700 F Street NW, Washington, DC. For tickets call the box office at (202) 467-4600 or purchase them online.
