Theater review: ‘Dear Evan Hansen’ impresses with versatile cast and emotionally powerful messages

The national tour of “Dear Evan Hansen” should come with a warning: Bring a box of tissues.

The tearjerker follows a high school senior’s struggle with anxiety and suicide. After Evan Hansen’s (Ben Levi Ross) letter to himself ends up in the hands of a school bully, Connor Murphy (Marrick Smith), the letter is mistaken for Connor’s suicide note. Evan then becomes entangled in a web of lies regarding his friendship with Connor as he tries to comfort the grieving family. The national tour, playing at the Ahmanson Theatre for its Los Angeles stop, combined thoughtful set design and exceptionally talented performers to create a moving piece that stands out among other modern performances.

The set opens on Evan drafting the letter, an assignment from his therapist meant to encourage optimism and confidence. The opening set consists only of a bed and a nightstand, and the set remains minimal throughout the play. Though there are few set pieces, rectangular layered screens created a visually stimulating backdrop as text-oriented social media-like feeds reminiscent of Twitter scroll past. Rectangular panels were not just a useless visual, as much of the plot centers around the consequences of going viral. By projecting Evan’s letter to himself or the fabricated emails he engineered to prove his friendship with Connor, the set design presented the subtext onto poignant scenes as a visual depiction of the overhanging, unsaid tension.

Ross’ portrayal of Evan relied on anxious tics to emulate a socially awkward teenager, such as playing with the zipper of his sweater and using rapid, rambling speech. His hunched-over posture and complete dedication to remaining in character made for a heartfelt, mesmerizing performance as the audience watched Evan become more entrenched in the lies he tells the Murphy family.

While the supporting actors were by no means lacking, Ross’ performance shined even when he was not speaking. In one scene, as the Murphys and the Hansens discuss Evan’s ability to pay for college, one could not help but ignore their dialogue and instead focus on Evan slouched in a chair, almost shaking as he retreated into himself. Ross’ carefully nuanced performance in addition to the quick underlying beats in Evan’s songs that mirror his fast-paced anxious behaviors, reveal the minute details included in the show.

Evan’s nervous mannerisms were paralleled by his mother, Heidi (Jessica Phillips), through flourishing hand gestures. In Heidi and Evan’s initial interaction, Heidi walks briskly around the room, trying to engage in conversation with her son while giving a more fluid quality to some of Evan’s nervous tics, like playing with her hands or putting them near her face. Though Evan’s gestures were more uptight and frantic, their similar physicality helped the audience subconsciously realize their genetic connection.

Perhaps what made the show so successful was the authentic relationships on which it focused. During Heidi’s solo to her son, “So Big/So Small,” Phillips maintained eye contact with Ross while singing about her failures as a mother. Many audience members could be heard audibly sniffling through tears, and Phillips’ heartfelt performance would make any homesick college student want to call their parents crying.

The zenith of the show concluded the first act, as Evan’s intense panic attack progressed into a hopeful ballad, “You Will Be Found,” emphasizing the importance of remembrance. Easily moving between quavering singing, hyperventilation and belting lyrics in this song and throughout the show, Ross proved himself a master of dynamic transition.

With a less remarkable cast, the dialogue of this show could have easily been construed as awkward or cheesy, and the many sophomoric jokes typical of high school boys could have fallen flat, like when Evan’s family friend Jared Kleinman (Jared Goldsmith) repeatedly suggests Evan’s falsified relation with Connor is a romantic one. Due to impeccable comedic timing and incredible voices from each member of the eight-person cast, the audience could focus on the powerful messages of the significance of the individual in the community without being distracted by mediocre acting. The audience should be prepared for emotionally raw scenes dealing with rocky parent-child relationships through difficult transitional phases, the power and consequences of lying and what happens to our memory after death.

Ultimately, what makes the plot so believable is that Evan sees himself in Connor, as an example of how his life could have ended. The two act as foils, revealing more similarities than differences, as well as how anxiety and depression do not manifest in the same way from person to person. The stellar production almost ensures audience members see themselves reflected in characters as they navigate the seemingly commonplace yet monumental struggles of high school and parental and romantic relationships.