Dear Evan Hansen, Review: A crushing failure
Big West End and Broadway shows often take a while to get big screen adaptations, partly because producers are reluctant to offer a home alternative to what they hope you’ll pay a lot of money to see live.
Also, because when it goes wrong, it goes really, really wrong. Before December 2019, Cats was a celebrated theatre institution. Now, when you mention it most people think of James Corden and horrifying CGI. This week, Dear Evan Hansen became the latest victim.
A relatively new musical, having only premiered in 2017, it tackles many modern issues and features songs that have already been deemed classics. What could go wrong?
Ben Platt plays the lead role of Evan, a nervous and socially awkward highschooler just trying to make it through the day. His therapist has advised writing letters to himself, starting with “Dear Evan Hansen”, mini pep talks expressing his desires, fears, and hopes. Troubled schoolmate Connor (Colston Ryan) discovers the letter and takes it after a confrontation between the two. A few days later, Connor takes his own life and the letter is found on his body.
Connor’s grieving mother (Amy Adams) misreads the letter, believing Evan was his friend and that there was more to her son than the sadness she saw. Overwhelmed by the positive attention, Evan lies about the pair being friends, and invents more stories about their time together. The fabricated letters become an inspiration in his school and across the internet, and Evan is torn between the truth and a lie that gives him everything he wanted.
The original show was a thoughtful look at grief, isolation, and the narcissistic tendencies of social media; it’s up to you to decide whether Evan’s actions are understandable or sociopathic. The film, however, deletes vital moments, removes the wider discussion and makes the morality of Evan’s actions harder to decipher. You’re simply watching a community being deceived by an outcast, and any inspirational undertones are lost.
Technically, the movie also seems stuck with one foot in the cinema and one in the theatre. Techniques that are intended for stage, become off-putting under the glare of a camera. Connor slunks into frame wearing all black, a lazy klaxon that all may not be well.
Then there’s Evan himself. Director Stephen Chbosky said he wanted the film to be a celebration of the actor who originated the role on Broadway. But while the stage performance was iconic, the film version is a horror show. Platt is in his late 20s now, and while that’s by no means ancient, it’s a struggle to take him seriously as a teenager. De-ageing makeup makes him look older and haunted, but that’s just part of the issue. His portrayal of a young man suffering from anxiety is reduced to lazy ticks and Rain Man mannerisms. Combined with the makeup and vacant stare, he looms around the screen like the villain in a slasher movie, staring unblinking as people pour out their grief. A performance that should have inspired sympathy instead misfires so badly that he’s given the air of a lunatic.
The focus on Platt also means some talented actors are wasted. Oscar winner Julianne Moore doesn’t have enough to do as Evan’s overwrought single mother, while Adams is forced to wrestle with the fragments of a role that was much meatier in its original form. Kaitlyn Dever is solid as Connor’s sister, but her attraction to the ghostly Platt is difficult to take seriously.
Dear Evan Hansen isn’t quite on the level of the Cats adaptation, but even being in the same neighbourhood must be considered a crushing failure.