Dear Evan Hansen made its Broadway opening back in 2016 and has been making crowds cry since then. It was a critical and audience darling, winning several Tony Awards, from Best Musical, Best Score, Best Actress, and Best Actor (Ben Platt). Two years after that success, Universal gave the green light to the film adaptation, which is only now seeing the light of day.
Evan Hansen (Platt) is a high school senior struggling with social anxiety disorder. He has found himself isolated as life passes him by and he writes himself letters to deal with his personal anxieties. Early in the movie, he finds himself stuck in a tough situation as others are convinced he was best friends with a classmate, who recently committed suicide.
Tonally, Dear Evan Hansen (as a concept) is scattered. The themes are deep and grim, whereas the music is often poppy. It’s frequently guilty of the trope where high school kids are so consumed with the larger questions in life as if they’ve lived much more than a decade and a half.
The elephant in the room is the casting of Ben Platt to play the role that he made famous on stage. The internet has made a big deal of him being far too old to play a teenager, and truly he is. However, his age is not the issue here (though they should have cast someone age appropriate). It’s the lack of screen presence and his impression of a teenager that misses the mark. He is so desperately trying to appear young and sheepish, but his attempt at insecurity comes off with purposely sunken shoulders and a stuttering voice similar to that of Garth Algar.
Julianne Moore in the smaller role as Evan’s mom, steals the movie. She adds genuine vulnerability in an adaptation where that is meant to be the theme.
Amy Adams, Danny Pino and Kaitlyn Dever are the members of Connor’s family. They all grieve him in their own ways, which is highlighted early on in the movie, but are all enchanted by the supposed friendship that Evan leads them to believe he had with their son and brother. Anyone who can’t stand musical tropes may squirm a little as this movie is rife with them. A character will ask Evan a heartfelt question and he’ll turn his head, staring right into the camera, and start quietly singing his thoughts with an emotional build.
These musical moments would be so uncomfortable if there was creativity behind it. The scope of the camera rarely leaves Evan’s face and we have to sit staring at him, as he’s staring and singing at us. Don’t get me wrong, the songs are exceptional and even memorable. There’s a good chance you’ll be humming one when the movie ends. Despite the lack of screen presence, Platt’s voice is phenomenal. If nothing else, this movie will have you listening to the soundtrack afterwards.
The story and script might be the biggest offenders here. The white lie that turns into an irreversible betrayal is a sitcom trope that makes it difficult to care about this production. It also casts a wide net on depression that feels like it’s missing nuance. There is beauty in the feeling of belonging and being there for others when they need it, but it keeps the facts about depression and these characters dealing with it; at arms length. It’s not insensitive. It just feels surface level.
Dear Evan Hansen,
I wish I saw you on the stage before I could see your story’s flaws on the big screen. Seeing a long play with an intermission is great, but you try my patience at 2 hours and 17 minutes. Your songs and vocals are beautiful, passionate and fun, but the lack of creativity and framing makes the experience feel shallow.
Sincerely C
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