Roslyn Packer Theatre, Sydney.
24 October 2024.
Dear Evan Hansen, directed by Dean Bryant, is a coming-of-age musical about teenager Evan Hansen, who suffers with social anxiety, juxtaposed with a desperate need to fit in and be seen. The show explores Evan’s journey in navigating a situation where circumstances surrounding the suicide of a classmate lead to Evan being entrenched in a lie that spreads exponentially, exacerbated by this age of global social media and widespread virtue signalling. This version of the musical has been specifically developed, styled and designed for the Australian audience.
Evan (played in this show by understudy Lawrence Hawkins) struggles to fit in, and every interaction he has with his peers leaves him crippled for words, stumbling over himself, and increasingly anxious. He has a crush on a girl at school, Zoe Murphy (Georgia Laga’aia), and when her brother Connor (Harry Targett) commits suicide, Evan finds himself thrust into a close knit, slightly co-dependant relationship with the Murphy family (Mr Martin Crewes and Mrs Natalie O’Donnell). This is due to the letters Evan’s therapist encourages him – and naturally following, also frequently by his anxious, single mother Heidi (Verity Hunt-Ballard) – to write letters to himself, starting with “Dear Evan Hansen, today is going to be a good day and here’s why…”.
Misfortune leads to Connor stealing one of these letters and having it in his pocket upon post-suicide discovery. Connor’s parents are subsequently convinced that he wrote this letter to Evan as his suicide note, and Evan, being his very shy and anxious self, really doesn’t know how to say otherwise. He is encouraged along in this deceitful journey by family friend Jared (Jacob Rozario), alongside ‘friends’ who pop out of the woodwork, who are ‘devastated’ by Connor’s death, despite Connor being considered a loner and outcast prior to his death, even by his own sister, to whom he was a bully.
The events that follow are like watching a trainwreck about to happen. Evan’s speech at Connor’s memorial service goes viral, and fellow student Alana (Carmel Rodrigues) creates ‘The Connor Project,’ involving Evan as co-president. It all spirals out of control when parts of the story Evan creates about his relationship with Connor just do not add up, culminating in an admission to the Murphys that he wrote the letter, not Connor. The Murphy’s response to this admission is incredibly gracious, not wishing to expose Evan further and share this revelation publicly. In a world where the demand for public truth and public penance are so strong when someone does an action considered morally wrong (no matter the complexity of the situation causing the action), this grace is a breath of fresh air, and one of the most endearing qualities of this musical.
The songs, written by Benj Pasek and Justin Paul, are extraordinary, with strong ballads, stunning harmonies, and gorgeous vocals by the talented cast. They have created a rather magical score to tell this story, the calibre of a Broadway hit with noteworthy songs that will be listened to on repeat and sung for years to come. They hit home with their poignant lyrics and memorable melodies.
Choreographically (Shannon Burns – Movement Director), this is not a dance heavy show; however, blocking and movement are utilised in a creative fashion to enhance the narrative. It is sharp, succinct, and the cast perform it well. In “Sincerely, Me,” the ghost of Connor, along with Evan and Jared, create the email trail that tells the false narrative of the Evan/Connor friendship. Moving around the bedroom, with Connor making sarcasm of the lies being made up to further the story, his gestures have a definite Kurt Cobain vibe, whom he seems to channel for this role. Targett is an excellent mover and embodies the choreography with finesse, throwing out and hitting his moves like a seasoned rock star. The movement composition in this scene is brilliant, utilising the lyrics and set with sharp and rhythmical patterning.
A scrim that is lowered occasionally at the front of the stage and is used for digital projections (David Bergman), along with an identical scrim at the back of the stage, shrouding the space to create a live looking viral feed on social, with video posts and comments. The cast weave in and out, utilising lineal floor patterns which emphasize the digital world the story lives in, building the mood and emotional brevity of the atmosphere. This aspect of the set (Jeremy Allen) is genius, and a compliment to the drama and the movement of the work. As a whole, the movement utilises the space in an intimate manner, with close spacing, never spreading over the whole stage (except to show isolation), highlighting the internal nature of the narrative and the theme of loneliness in this layer of the work.
Georgia Laga’aia is an excellent Zoe Murphy, her unaffected yet clear vocals, with depth of feeling for the role, she comes across quite genuine. Whilst at times it feels like you are watching actors skilfully ‘play’ their role, and they can all sing brilliantly, Laga’aia is consistently the real deal. She brings an authenticity that makes this show really hit home. This is alongside second cast Evan (Lawrence), who also gives his shot at the lead role a fantastically solid and moving effort.
Costumes (Isabel Hudson) are carefully chosen everyday clothes, and the colour palate is subtle yet intentional – earthy for Zoe, straight lines for Mr and Mrs Murphy, juxtaposed with Heidi Hansen in contrasting in ‘not quite able to dress well because I’m too busy’ jeans and t-shirt or nurses aid scrubs, very unassuming jeans and plaid for Evan, blacks for Connor, and a colourful rainbow for Alana.
The beauty in Dear Evan Hansen is the call to community, with a clear message of the power and healing that can come of being seen and accepted. You realise you are watching something very real and visceral unfold, a much-needed narrative in today’s climate of ramped up high school bullying that can no longer be escaped at home. It gives us a picture of what grace looks like when one amongst us makes a mistake, even if it has large consequences. Whilst there is not too much complexity to the story, and it generally follows along a lineal path, it is an important one.
By Linda Badger of Dance Informa.