Dear Evan Hansen

September 24, 2021 · Watch the official trailer

I’ve never seen the stage musical version of “Dear Evan Hansen.”

It was always that other Broadway musical soundtrack that you kind of listened to Ben Platt’s songs after getting hooked on “Hamilton” and wanting another modern pop-forward, catchy showtune album.

There was a little context for what the plot of the musical was about: Evan, an awkward teenage boy “on the outside always looking in,” finds himself at the center of conversation after happenstance interactions with Connor, another troubled teen, make Connor’s parents believe that the two were best friends. Evan leans into this falsehood both to provide solace to a grieving family and to forge a connection with their daughter Zoe, who Evan’s been secretly crushing on for a while.

With only the vaguest context and the naturally soft, sweet, dulcet tones of Platt guiding listeners, it’s easy to emotionally tie-in with the innocent outsider and his genuine little white lie that grows out of control. There’s so much positivity in a song like “You Will Be Found,” an anthem that seeks to comfort those who believe no one is on their side and might be contemplating suicide, that you can’t help but rally to Evan’s causes and overlook his shortcomings.

Then the context comes.

Director Stephen Chbosky and screenwriter Steven Levenson

Evan and Zoe’s “romance” that resonates in the middle third of the film feels especially contrived and implausible with how rushed it is through Chbosky’s yada-yada use of montage taking them from their first kiss to prom together to her convincing her parents to giving Connor’s college fund to Evan as he’s the child of a single mom and won’t be able to go to school without scholarships.

At least in 2019’s Joker, when Arthur begins an out of nowhere relationship with his neighbor Sophie, it’s later revealed to be nothing more than a delusion in his head.

Within the world of the film, Evan and Zoe’s romantic relationship is real and authentic, stemming from nothing more than Evan’s supposed insight into the mind of her dead brother. Evan actively and willfully victimizes Zoe by gaslighting her over and over again, manipulating the foundation of their relationship just to remain close to her.

Beyond the first story he tells Connor’s parents, there’s no altruism to Evan. He wants nothing more than to feel needed and loved, holding onto it at any cost no matter how morally repugnant his actions are.

Chbosky and Levenson let Evan off the hook by turning his villainy into victimization, essentially arguing that Evan is just as hurt by his own actions and amounting his downward spiral to simply being a sad, lonely boy. As if being sad and lonely are justifications for willful ignorance of morality.

Normally, in tales like this, there’s a cathartic sense of relief when the antagonist gets his comeuppance in the end.

Make no mistake, Evan Hansen is the antagonist of the film, the biggest bad actor in a film where almost no one’s actions are righteous.

All Evan gets are some sideways glances in the hallway and a promising redemptive moment in a final conversation with Zoe that leaves Evan optimistic for a future where he can be totally honest and himself.

The only actual growth the Evan character makes over the course of 130 minutes is confidence thrust upon him by circumstance, where the events of the film take the anonymous shy kid who can’t be seen and push him into the spotlight.

The film never makes a concerted effort to examine the effects social media and viral posts have on characters beyond surface level plot points.

On the positive side, Evan’s speech, aka the anthem “You Will Be Found,” spreads like wildfire and is the impetus for a Kickstarter campaign to rebuild a dying apple orchard Connor supposedly liked as a kid. These words of inspiration feel vapid when you consider just how vague and unremarkable the response is.