I’ve now seen the North American tour of Dear Evan Hansen twice in Chicago, and both times I’ve come up short trying to feel the emotional connection that so many fans have with this show. My first viewing was before the pandemic, and I hoped it might hit differently in 2022. After all, the musical is about an isolated, socially anxious young man trying to find a sense of belonging. Don’t we all want that, especially now? Unfortunately, it left me dry-eyed once again.
When it premiered on Broadway in 2016, Dear Evan Hansen won six Tony Awards, and it has since transferred to London’s West End and been adapted into a film. The title character, originally played by Ben Platt, enters his senior year of high school with a broken arm, no friends, and an assignment from his therapist to write an encouraging letter to himself every day. When a troubled classmate, Connor Murphy, dies of suicide, an initial misunderstanding turns into an extended lie that has the whole school and Connor’s family believing that Evan was his best friend.
Dear Evan HansenThrough 12/31: Tue 7:30 PM, Wed and Fri 2 and 7:30 PM, Thu 7:30 PM, Sat 2 and 8 PM, Sun 2 and 7:30 PM; Fri 12/16 7:30 PM only, Sat 12/24 2 PM only, no show Sun 12/25; James M. Nederlander Theatre, 24 W. Randolph, 800-775-2000, broadwayinchicago.com, $35-$116 (limited number of $25 tickets available through online lottery); recommended for 12+
Dear Evan Hansen has drawn criticism for the way it centers a white male protagonist who deceives and manipulates, gaining popularity and even the affection of his longtime crush through a fabricated relationship with a dead kid. When the truth finally emerges, Evan suffers few consequences. While I agree that this is problematic, it’s not my main issue with the show. Plenty of worthwhile art focuses on, and even creates sympathy for, characters who make terrible, hurtful choices.
My first complaint is this: Although Benj Pasek and Justin Paul won a Tony Award for best original score, I find their pop-infused music and lyrics rather vapid, sounding as if they were engineered in a lab to pull on the heartstrings. Change a few lyrics, and the anthem “You Will Be Found” could be belted from any evangelical megachurch in America on a Sunday morning. Musically, I do not mean this as a compliment.
Also, I find the story line about Evan’s anxiety unsatisfying; I would rather see a show that engages with the real work of developing better mental health. As his lies spiral out of control, Evan stops taking his anxiety medications, presumably stops seeing his therapist, and distances himself from his mother, the one who has been trying to get him help all along. Yet somehow, he emerges from the mess with improved self-confidence. This seems like a cheap shortcut to anyone who has experienced anxiety or other mental health struggles.
Now that I’ve aired these grievances, I must say that the current cast of the North American tour is quite good, beginning with Anthony Norman as Evan. Originally from Chicago, Norman displays both the vocal and emotional range required for the role, portraying the awkward teenager convincingly enough that your hands almost sweat along with his. Nikhil Saboo plays Connor—a complex part given that the character dies early on and reappears as a fictionalized version invented by Evan and his classmate and partner in email forgery, Jared Kleinman (Pablo David Laucerica). This trio shares some of the show’s funnier moments.
Alaina Anderson makes her professional debut as Zoe Murphy, Connor’s sister and Evan’s love interest, in an understated performance that has the audience straining to hear her lines at times. Micaela Lamas plays an enthusiastic Alana Beck, the overachieving classmate who teams up with Evan and Jared to create “The Connor Project,” a mental health-themed blog and fundraising initiative. Rounding out the principal cast are John Hemphill and Lili Thomas as Connor and Zoe’s parents, along with Coleen Sexton as Evan’s mother, Heidi. The adult roles are developed in a half-hearted way, with Heidi being somewhat of an exception, but the performers do a fine job with the material.
For those who are already fans of Dear Evan Hansen, this tour is a great opportunity to see the show, especially since the Broadway production closed in September. Although it didn’t resonate with me, there were many in the audience on opening night who obviously felt differently—from the middle-aged dad who wore a striped, blue polo and toted a bag full of merchandise to the woman next to me who cried through the second act. For their sake, I am glad this musical is back in Chicago.