It’s understandable to walk into Zach’s Production of Dear Evan Hansen with some preconceptions. It tackles complicated, some would say problematic themes, and does so rather unapologetically. Add to this the 2021 movie which has, for many, become short-hand for a bad adaptation, with even the musical’s most ardent defenders finding little love for the film. Even the Broadway production, despite winning several Tonys, including Best Musical, isn’t looked back on as fondly as several hits from its year. However, one should try their best to put those doubts by the door, as Zach Theatre, led by director Dave Steakley, and his talented crew, have added their typical level of intelligence and polish, while also making slight tweaks which bring exciting new dimensions to the work, and soften some of the harsher edges to create an intriguing and emotionally resonant piece of musical theatre.
As Dear Evan Hansen begins, our titular character is going through it. With no real friends, crippling anxiety, and a newly-broken arm, when he’s asked to write a letter to himself about everything positive in his day, he struggles to find the right words. When he finally does get his, decidedly less glowing, letter finished, a misunderstanding with another school outcast, non-binary loner Connor Murphy, leads to a tragedy that will change his life, as well as the lives of everyone around him. Lies, deceit, teenage hormones, and a lot of grief come together in an steady-boiling melting pot that Evan tries to keep from boiling over, lest his troubled life fall even more to shambles.
As you can probably glean from the above, Dear Evan Hansen can be a difficult watch. There are moments where the humor, however juvenile, shines, and the songs are almost universally bangers (from The Greatest Showman‘s EGOT-winning duo Pacek and Paul), for the most part the show is a heartbreaking examination of how far grief can push a person, and the extremes those people can go to just to alleviate their pain. In the end, it’s a worthwhile journey, though make sure you check those warnings before attending, as the material could be triggering for some viewers, especially for those disturbed by suicidal ideation.
We are none of us perfect people. We lie, we cheat, we hurt the ones we love in big ways and small. Evan Hansen can be a difficult protagonist to follow, let alone root for, but at the end of the day there’s something so intrinsically human in the way he reacts to his loneliness and pain. We may not agree with his decisions, we may even dislike him for them, but, at least for this critic, they’re understandably human choices, made for better or for worse. Evan Jenning’s performance only underlines this complicated humanity, bringing a sorrow that seeps out from his very pores, a deeply felt hurt that permeates everything he does that makes him fascinating to watch. Though a winningly empathetic performer, Jennings is also not afraid to let his darker, more pathetic, or more embarrassing sides show, baring his heart for the sake of his art, a difficult task for any artist.
One of Steakley’s more inspired choices for this production was transforming troubled teen Connor from a cis male to a non-binary person, in the process re-positioning the reasoning for Connor’s exclusion from the outside world in an engrossing way, and allowing a fantastic performance from Dominic Pecikonis to take center stage. The way Pecikonis channels their inner struggles into outer fury is riveting to watch, as their attempts to buck at the norms are met with rejection over and over, leading to a resenting pit of anger that one knows will eventually have to explode. What’s most fun to watch, however, are the moments where Pecikonis gets to show us other sides to their toolbox, whether it’s the explosion of unbridled joy that is “Sincerely Me”, an exploration of the power of friendship; or moments of intense sensitivity, as in the devastating “Disappear”. Unfortunately, due to how the play is structured, we get far too little time with Connor and Pecikonis, but for the few moments they do get to grace the stage, they steal every minute, and I will surely be in line for whatever work this performer decides to do next.
It’s easy to think you know what you’re getting when coming to Zach’s production of Dear Evan Hansen, but for those willing to put their preconceived notions at the door, there’s plenty to love here. Evan is still a difficult protagonist to love, and the problematic elements at the heart of the work will always linger, but there’s an emotional depth to the performances and a vibrancy to the production here that one can’t help but admire. Steakley makes very clever choices with the material, elevating certain areas of the show to make it more palatable even to its detractors, bringing the beating heart of the piece to fore to create a very successful production.
Dear Evan Hansen is playing through May 31st at Zach’s Topfer Theater. For more information, or to purchase tickets. visit zachtheater.org.
Photos Courtesy of Axel B Photography
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