"Dear Evan Hansen" a stirring translation from stage to screen

Dear Evan Hansen (2021)

Because social media is such a wonderfully kind place with no knee-jerk reactions or reductive hot takes whatsoever, “Dear Evan Hansen”—the film adaptation of the beloved, Tony-winning 2016 Broadway musical—has been taking an unfair beating like a bullied wallflower. From such discourse, it’s easy to expect the worst, a cloying and manipulative disaster, but the pile-on won’t continue here. While there is a responsibility in how to tell any story involving heavy subject matter (depression, anxiety, and teen suicide, specifically), there is a reason the thematically evergreen stage production has resonated with so many young audiences. Without claiming to be a perfect depiction of mental illness or what is right and what is wrong, “Dear Evan Hansen” stirringly calibrates the goosebump-inducing harmony from the stage to the screen with impassioned performances that never hit a false note. 

Back to wearing the stained blue polo shirt and arm cast, Ben Platt reprises the Off-Broadway role he originated as Evan Hansen, a lonely high school senior. His social anxiety is so crippling that, as part of his therapy, he’s instructed to write letters addressed to himself. His single, working-as-a-nurse mom Heidi (Julianne Moore) even encourages him to have his peers sign the cast on his arm as an ice-breaker. When Evan has an aggressive encounter with troubled student Connor Murphy (Colton Ryan)—the brother of Evan’s crush Zoe (Kaitlyn Dever)—one of his letters gets taken by Connor. The next morning, Evan is brought to the principal’s office, where Connor’s mother Cynthia (Amy Adams) and stepfather Larry (Daniel Pino) hand over the stolen letter to Evan, believing it was meant to go to Evan before Connor took his own life. Evan tries to explain the misunderstanding, but Connor’s family quickly welcomes him, almost as a piece of the son, stepson, and brother they didn’t really know. As Evan carries on this ruse and becomes more noticed by his peers, the other shoe is bound to drop sooner or later.

Against popular opinion, Ben Platt is not difficult to accept as a 17-year-old, retaining a sheepish boyishness aside from a few actorly mannerisms that may play better on stage from afar than in close-up on-screen. Even if he is a decade older than the character he’s playing, Platt puts every fiber of his soul into making Evan feel more relatable than most viewers will probably be comfortable with admitting. The first song, “Waving Through a Window,” sees Evan anxiously making his way to school and then to a pep rally. It’s performed with such raw nerve by Platt that this viewer watched the opening few minutes through misty eyes.

Considering “The Perks of Being a Wallflower” was his directorial debut—and the best film of 2012 and one of the best teenage films not written by John Hughes, Cameron Crowe, and Amy Heckerling—director Stephen Chbosky (2017’s “Wonder”) is a natural fit for this material, as is writer Steven Levenson (whose book was the basis for the stage musical). This pair brings an intimacy and empathy for those who don’t feel seen, as well as an understanding of what we do at our worst and at our darkest times. For a musical that’s not really about hummable, foot-tapping showstoppers in high school hallways, the songs drive the narrative and the hearts of the characters. Written and composed by Benj Pasek and Justin Paul (“La La Land” and “The Greatest Showman”), the songs hold an undeniable power. One anomaly is the irreverent, even raunchy “Sincerely, Me,” where Evan and gay family friend Jared (Nik Dodani) begin crafting Evan and Connor’s fake e-mail conversations that keep shifting into love notes. If there is any criticism, it could be the outdated notion that teenagers still write e-mails, even if they’re mutual outcasts. 

A large success of the film comes down to the actors besides Ben Platt being able to sell the material with grace. Kaitlyn Dever cuts through any possible melodrama, playing Zoe as a young woman who's grieving her brother’s suicide but still processing her somewhat abusive relationship with him. Amy Adams tenderly does the same as Connor’s mother, who holds on to the memories of the boy she raised (like an apple orchard being her son’s favorite place) without knowing how much he was actually hurting. Amandla Stenberg (2018’s “The Hate U Give”) is terrific as the quiet but outwardly confident Alana Beck, the president of every high school club who seems like she has it all together but might have more in common with Evan than he knows. Her vocal performance of “The Anonymous Ones,” an original song co-written by Stenberg, Pasek, and Paul for the film, is very much a powerful highlight. Not too surprisingly, Julianne Moore also brings gravitas to the overworked mom role and gets a chance to sing “So Big, So Small.”

Taken at face value without any context or nuance, the story could be a queasily immoral and problematic one—like a feel-good version of Bobcat Goldthwait’s darkly funny satire “World’s Greatest Dad”—and might be magnified on screen, but that’s not the case here. There can be a couple ways of looking at the story here, but no matter what, Evan is not some deceitful sociopath or carrying on this charade to be malicious. Though he may be caught up in a lie, Evan speaks his own truth through Connor’s passing and feels less alone, as earnestly captured on stage with the inspiring “You Will Be Found.” In spite of the giant lie at the core of the film, everything about “Dear Evan Hansen” rings of sincerity in how it approaches the human condition. Sensitively handled without being relentlessly downbeat, the film allows its characters wholesale to be flawed and selfish but sympathetic enough that they don't feel demonized. So emotionally fragile it could break but undeserving of such vitriolic drubbing, “Dear Evan Hansen” pierces and bares its heavy heart for everyone to see. Unless you are made of stone, you will be moved.

Grade: B

Universal Pictures is releasing “Dear Evan Hansen” (137 min.) in theaters on September 24, 2021.