I am an unashamed fan of movie musicals. If your film is at all cohesive and features sequences of the characters singing and dancing, chances are I’m gonna be on board. Honestly, a movie musical has to really drop the ball or misinterpret its source material in order for me to not be on its side (looking at you, Chris Columbus’s RENT). Because of this, and despite negative early reactions in the press and on social media, I went into Dear Evan Hansen truly rooting for it to succeed. So maybe it’s because of my genre bias that I left Dear Evan Hansen feeling somewhat indifferent. As typically happens, I did enjoy the songs and had a fine enough time watching the story play out on the big screen. That being said, an audience that doesn’t automatically love musicals might be less forgiving. Much less forgiving.
Of course, you can’t talk about this movie without first addressing the elephant in the room: Ben Platt, who the internet will be quick to remind you is a full decade older than his titular teenage character. Platt is good in the film, accurately portraying the mannerisms of Evan’s anxiety disorder with spot-on precision. There is a reason he won a Tony for this role. Unfortunately, the nasty things you’ve read online are true, and he often looks somewhat ridiculous in the film’s high school setting. With Evan being as timid and meek a character as he is, casting a noticeably older actor just makes for a confusing watch. Perhaps if it were a comedy like Grease, this would have worked. However, it just comes off awkward when he’s going for heavy drama, which happens frequently. That brings me to a problem far greater than Ben Platt’s age: the plot of his movie.
The film follows Evan Hansen as he attempts to navigate high school life while battling his own crippling anxiety. When one of his therapeutic letters to himself winds up in the hands of his depressed loner classmate Connor Murphy (Colton Ryan), Evan’s life begins going down an unexpected path. In the immediate aftermath of Connor’s sudden death by suicide, the letter is discovered and believed to be a suicide note addressed to his apparent best friend Evan. When confronted by Connor’s parents (Danny Pino and a fantastic Amy Adams), Evan backs himself into a corner and begins lying about his invented close relationship with the late teen. Suddenly, Evan’s community becomes inspired by his false narrative, and the lies spin out of control as Evan digs his heels deeper into his fabricated story.
If you were also caught off guard by how unexpectedly dark that synopsis is, you’re not alone. Prior to the film’s screening, I only had a passing familiarity with the musical, with no idea how pitch black the story really was. Honestly, that’s the main source of disconnect in the movie. Dear Evan Hansen desperately wants to be a life-affirming and inspirational coming-of-age story, filled with anthemic songs about overcoming mental health obstacles. Problem is, the story doesn’t back that up. All the inspiring, tear-jerker songs Evan sings about finding hope are actually, in the context of the story, just him lying to insert himself into a tragedy. In context, there is very little to be moved by in this movie. It is actually the bleak story of a near sociopathic liar, dressed up as a hopeful and optimistic musical. The music, lyrics, direction, editing, and marketing are all working overtime to present this movie as the next Love, Simon, when it is actually a plotline that wouldn’t feel out of place on It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia. No amount of soft lighting can cover up how much of a villain Evan Hansen is in his own story.
What’s interesting is that Evan isn’t alone in his psychotically self-centered behavior. Pretty much every character in this movie behaves, at one point or another, in a way that is morally reprehensible. From the hacker “friend” who helps Evan fabricate evidence of his lie, to the activist who wants to share someone’s suicide note on social media, there is no one in the movie who walks away with a clear conscience.
That being said, it’s not all bad. As I mentioned above, there are many musical numbers that really stand out. I was particularly struck by a sequence in which the characters forge letters from Connor to Evan, which is the most energetic song in the movie and a stylistic standout. On the other hand, I did find it hard to laugh at this musical comedy number, once again, context swoops in to put a damper on things. We were told literally five minutes earlier that Connor had died tragically, and now it’s time to laugh along as Evan desecrates his memory. Awkward.
While the movie’s messages about mental health are misguided at best, I do know that the stage play resonates with many young audience members who are very active online. If they are able to wring meaning out of all the contradictory themes this movie offers up, then good for them. I am genuinely glad that they feel seen by this and have these songs to help them. I, however, was entirely confused by it. At some points in the film, hyper-specific details of mental illness are presented with complete accuracy, only to be followed by another potentially harmful or misleading scene. I am left not really knowing what Dear Evan Hansen is trying to say, if anything. It’s just a collection of bewildering choices. This isn’t a bad movie, just an incredibly bizarre one.
If you or someone you know is in a suicidal crisis, please call the United States National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK (1-800-273-8255). Assistance is available 24/7 through this Lifeline number and their website www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org. Or use the National Suicide Prevention Helpline UK at 0800 689 5652 and www.spbristol.org/nsphuk.
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