Dear Evan Hansen

Year of release: 2021       Directed by Stephen Chbosky.   Starring Ben Platt, Kaitlyn Dever, Amandla Stenberg, Colton Ryan, Amy Adams, and Julianne Moore.

Dear Alana Beck (as played by Amandla Stenberg),

I’m sorry you suffer from mental illness. It’s a bitch. Ask me how I know, or preferably, don’t. Despite one colossal mistake that this film glosses over, you also seem like the one character in a musical of half-developed sociopathic narcissists who actually has a touch of empathy and decency. I’m sorry you’re relegated to a supporting role for a massively unethical protagonist who regrettably shares my name. I would much rather have watched a musical about you.

You also sing “The Anonymous Ones,” which is the best song in Dear Evan Hansen. One major reason for that is it is the only song that works in context, showing support for all the people who suffer from mental illness in silence. I’m shocked to learn that it is a new song written for this film adaptation and not a part of the stage production. I guess I should take this moment to admit that I never saw the musical on stage. However, after seeing the film and reading the synopsis of the stage show, I’m glad I never got around to it, because as bad as this film is, the stage show sounds even worse.

The majority of songs are not bad on their own accord, divorced from the plot of the musical. However, in context, most of them are horrific. “For Forever” sounds like a beautiful ballad about friendship, but in reality, it is a callous and cruel deception. “You Will Be Found” is seemingly an inspirational power ballad, but the lie it is based on makes it jaw-droppingly cringeworthy and offensive. “Only Us” comes across as a love duet between two awkward teens afraid to share their emotions. However, it’s exploiting a suicide so a socially inept boy can get into his crush’s pants. It’s gross.

Writing a conditional love duet was something Rodgers and Hammerstein perfected in Carousel with “If I Loved You.” However, Carousel is a horror story about abuse and communal victim blaming (despite mediocre productions that play it as a straightforward romance—including but not limited to the atrocious film adaptation). It makes sense that the “love” is conditional. Dear Evan Hansen is a coming-of-age story about a mentally ill high schooler who makes one big mistake. It doesn’t seem to be anywhere on the film’s horizon that Evan is a sociopath or incapable of loving Zoe.

Given your own mental health struggles, your decision to befriend Evan Hansen (Ben Platt, reprising his Tony award-winning role from Broadway, despite clearly not being a teenager on film) makes perfect sense. It would seem you have found a kindred spirit. It stretches credibility a little bit that you just know Evan is on antidepressants, but that’s hardly a problem giving the other issues with this film. Your passion in founding the Connor Project to honor the memory of your deceased classmate is honorable and understandable. I’m sorry it was all based on an egregious lie.

There is something very important I have to say about suicide and threatening to commit suicide (which, for the record, comes from my therapist). Threatening to commit suicide, regardless of the extreme pain one is in, is inherently manipulative and narcissistic. Committing suicide and leaving a trail of grieving people to deal with the ramifications is an appallingly selfish act. That in no way belittles the intense pain and hopelessness that depression causes; it instead acknowledges the reality that depression is a horrific illness that harms more people than just the ones who suffer from it. Please note I do not think anyone who commits suicide is selfish; I’m describing what depression does.

Connor’s (Colton Ryan) decision to commit suicide is perfectly in keeping with his aggressive, bullying personality. As much as his mother (Amy Adams) wishes to deny that aspect of her son’s personality, there is no escaping that reality. Neither can Evan escape that reality, as he uses Connor’s suicide to weasel his way into the family he wishes he had.

While depression can make one lash out and behave in ways that they would otherwise think abominable, it is not an excuse for lying to people or treating them like shit. And that is what Evan Hansen does. To some extent, the musical realizes that, but when his mother (Julianne Moore) absolves him with “So Big/So Small” because of his anxiety, it’s obvious the film is too.

If that absolution isn’t disgusting enough, when Zoe (Kaitlyn Dever) asks to meet Evan at the film’s end, it is mercifully not a reuniting of the couple, but it is an unearned reconciliation between them. Zoe says she wishes they could have met for the first time then, because somehow that would have changed Evan’s many deceptions, but at the same time the film seems to be saying how wonderful it is that this healing came from Evan’s deceptions.

I firmly believe good, even great, things can come about as a result of terrible things. However, earnestly turning a teenage suicide into both a whitewashing of reality and into meaningless platitudes of everyone’s self-worth is not merely tasteless but offensive as well. It’s as if someone watched Heathers and decided that the ruthless satire would be better if replaced with mawkish sentimentality, because that would make the same portrayal of cliques and faux friendships so much more palatable. The brilliance of Heathers is that it pulls no punches in deconstructing the toxicity of cliques and phony appearances divorced from reality. Dear Evan Hansen takes many of the same scenarios and plays them straight, because glossing over the horror of what’s actually happening creates a false sense of a feel-goodness, which in turn creates a larger audience of fans who can deal with a serious subject while never having to feel uncomfortable.

As someone who suffers from severely debilitating depression, I wanted to scream at Evan several times: “That’s not how it works; that’s not how any of it works.” From his letters of bad advice to his cringeworthy speech in memory of Connor, none of this musical is inspiring or moving. As catchy as the songs are, their service to an appalling story makes them more off-putting than anything else.

The kindest thing I can say about Dear Evan Hansen is that it is full of good intentions. However, the old saying about the road paved with good intentions holds true here. If you really want to see a musical about the realities of depression handled with sensitivity and insight, we still have Next to Normal and Crazy Ex-Girlfriend.

Sincerely,

A musical lover and fellow anonymous one

Personal recommendation: D-