Note: TWE reviewed  ‘Dear Evan Hansen’ earlier in its current tour. Given that this is the same touring production, what follows is a revised version of that same review, updated for its most recent visit to Birmingham.

 Given its enviable trophy cabinet, stuffed with Tonys, Oliviers and even a Grammy, it had been a wobbly few years for Steven Levenson, Benj Pasek and Justin Paul’s Dear Even Hansen.

The 2021 Amy Adams Hollywood adaptation, starring OG ‘Evan’, Ben Platt, was widely considered a clumsy misfire at best, and seemed to compete with the lingering remains of COVID for being the most vilified thing of the year. The West End production closed shortly after, followed – perhaps inevitably – by those esteemed scholars that are the TikTok revisionists jumping on board and starting to ask if perhaps the whole thing hadn’t always been a bit problematic and morally dubious from the start.

Cue Adam Penford and the Nottingham Playhouse.

Reviving Evan in this slick, confident new non-replica touring production, Penford and team have distilled this story of a sensitive, reclusive American teen whose lies get more than a little out of hand back into the disarming, moving and powerful piece of musical theatre it was formerly most celebrated as.

Young Evan Hansen (an astonishing Ryan Kopel) is a nervy, isolated loner, barely scraping through therapy sessions and medication refills, let alone navigating the social jungle of high school. With Dad long since painting himself out of the picture, mum Heidi (musical theatre royalty Alice Fearn) burns the candle at both ends trying to keep a roof over their heads and studying towards a paralegal degree.

When an unexpected tragedy strikes, pulling Evan into its orbit courtesy of an errant letter penned to himself (hence the title), the young teen finds himself absorbed in a growing maelstrom of dishonesty and initially well-meaning fantasy. What starts out as a fairly harmless collection of white lies to comfort a grieving family soon balloons into something far greater, though by drawing him closer to the object of his affections, young Zoe (Lauren Conroy), Evan finds the allure of his deception impossible to detach from.

Dear Evan Hansen certainly courts some heady topics and themes. Modern flourishes such as going ‘viral’, coupled with the capricious nature of online commentary become important subthreads. And issues of suicide, drug abuse, trauma and mental health disorders underpin much of the show’s narrative weight. There are even a handful of moments where these are used to punctuate comedic beats.

Some may venture into Act II hearing some of those TikTok naysayers echoing faintly in the back of their minds. Is this all, in fact, a bit distasteful?

Thankfully, a stellar cast and Penford’s considered direction all finish the hat sensitively, rounding off a frequently moving and stirring piece of musical storytelling. Evan Hansen doesn’t shy away from acknowledging its protagonists’ wrongdoing, and the eventual emotional fallout feels blisteringly authentic. There are powerful, tearjerking performances at practically every turn, and Pasek and Paul’s decorated songs and music are consistently top drawer. There’s a reason the likes of ‘Waving Thorough a Window’, ‘For Forever’ and ‘You Will Be Found’ are already comfortably established as musical theatre tentpoles.

“There are powerful, tearjerking performances at practically every turn, and Pasek and Paul’s decorated songs and music are consistently top drawer…”

For despite the fact that the core through line of Evan Hansen is built on a bed of dishonesty and cowardice, so too does it ultimately end up feeling rather hopeful and healing.

Stepping out of the shadow of the likes of Ben Platt and Sam Tutty is no easy task, but Ryan Kopel takes hold of the titular role and does stunning things with it. His Evan is an altogether more tremulous, timid beast even than we’ve seen before, but Kopel plays it to utter perfection. It’s a soulful, delicate, idiosyncratic and at times devastating central turn, completely earnest, and the fact Kopel is able to match the quality of his acting with equally jaw-dropping vocals only amplifies what is an already captivating performance.

Around him, Alice Fearn gets great material to showcase her formidable acting chops as Evan’s imperfect, hard-working and frustrated mum. She unsurprisingly tears up her handful of big musical moments, the sheer emotion and strength of her ‘So Big/So Small’ one of the highlights of what is a very packed evening of great vocals. Tom Dickerson is great fun and brings some much-needed levity as ‘family friend’ and co-conspirator, Jared, recruited into helping maintain Evan’s deceit. Will Forgrave put in a great and poignant turn understudying troubled teen Connor in the performance reviewed, whilst Lauren Conroy remains a fascinating and wonderfully naturalistic on-stage presence as potential love interest and grieving sister, Zoe.

“…a soulful, delicate, idiosyncratic and at times devastating central turn.”

In truth, though, the whole company impresses, all neatly housed in a visually arresting, high-tech playground of Morgan Large, Matt Daw and Ravi Deepres’ design. Deepres’ video work accents things often, from a melange of social media activity through to the almost blinding light of Evan’s recollections and fantasies. Much like the bustling, metropolitan, chronically online world that its characters find themselves swept up by, this is a production that is bustling, interlocking, modern and polished. Penford keeps things moving and punchy, though isn’t averse to ‘slamming on the brakes’ and letting his characters bathe in little more than a simple spotlight when the moment calls for it, such as a pivotal school assembly address.

Come its bittersweet coda, there may still be some theatregoers pondering whether or not Dear Evan Hansen has let its protagonist off lightly. It’ll doubtless fuel fan debate and those tireless TikTok and Youtube commentators for many years to come.

But to delve too deeply into such atavistic weeds would threaten to miss the point altogether. It would also dull the mature, warts-and-all frankness of the show’s ultimate message. Namely, that we’re all flawed, broken people, and even the best of us can do the wrong things for the right reason.

With a stunning, deservedly acclaimed soundtrack, masterfully reignited and invigorated by Penford and team, and boasting what should be a star-making turn for Kopel, Dear Evan Hansen is a poignant, heartfelt love letter to the foibles and frailties of the human condition.

A moving, pensive story and beautifully crafted production both, that deftly silences the critics and the naysayers. It’s a heartfelt reminder that it is often in our most glaring imperfections and unforgivable mistakes where the most unexpected beauty, and perhaps even faintest glimmer of hope, can be found.

Given its enviable trophy cabinet, stuffed with Tonys, Oliviers and even a Grammy, it’s been a wobbly couple of years for Steven Levenson, Benj Pasek and Justin Paul’s Dear Even Hansen.

The 2021 Amy Adams Hollywood adaptation, starring OG ‘Evan’, Ben Platt, was widely considered a clumsy misfire at best, and seemed to compete with the lingering remains of COVID for being the most vilified thing of the year. The West End production closed shortly after, followed – perhaps inevitably – by those esteemed scholars that are the TikTok revisionists jumping on board and starting to ask if perhaps the whole thing hadn’t always been a bit problematic and morally dubious from the start.

Cue Adam Penford and the Nottingham Playhouse.

Reviving Evan in this slick, confident new touring production, Penford and team have distilled this story of a sensitive, reclusive American teen whose lies get more than a little out of hand back into the disarming, moving and powerful piece of musical theatre it was formerly most celebrated as.

Young Evan Hansen (an astonishing Ryan Kopel) is a nervy, isolated loner, barely scraping through therapy sessions and medication refills, let alone navigating the social jungle of high school. With Dad long since painting himself out of the picture, mum Heidi (musical theatre royalty Alice Fearn) burns the candle at both ends trying to keep a roof over their heads and studying towards a paralegal degree.

When an unexpected tragedy strikes, pulling Evan into its orbit courtesy of an errant letter penned to himself (hence the title), the young teen finds himself absorbed in a growing maelstrom of dishonesty and initially well-meaning fantasies. What starts out as a fairly harmless collection of white lies to comfort a grieving family soon balloons into something far greater, though by drawing him closer to the object of his affections, young Zoe (Lauren Conroy), Evan finds the allure of his deception impossible to detach from.

Dear Evan Hansen certainly courts some heady topics and themes. Modern flourishes such as going ‘viral’, coupled with the capricious nature of online commentary become important subthreads. And issues of suicide, drug abuse, trauma and mental health disorders underpin much of the show’s narrative weight. There are even a handful of moments where these are used to punctuate comedic beats.

Some may venture into Act II hearing some of those TikTok naysayers echoing faintly in the back of their minds. Is this all, in fact, a bit distasteful?

Thankfully, a stellar cast and Penford’s considered direction all finish the hat sensitively, rounding off a frequently moving and stirring piece of musical storytelling. Evan Hansen doesn’t shy away from acknowledging its protagonists’ wrongdoing, and the eventual emotional fallout feels blisteringly authentic. There are powerful, tearjerking performances at practically every turn, and Pasek and Paul’s decorated songs and music are consistently top drawer. There’s a reason the likes of ‘Waving Thorough a Window’, ‘For Forever’ and ‘You Will Be Found’ are already comfortably established as musical theatre tentpoles.

“There are powerful, tearjerking performances at practically every turn, and Pasek and Paul’s decorated songs and music are consistently top drawer…”

For despite the fact that the core through line of Evan Hansen is built on a bed of dishonesty and cowardice, so too does it ultimately end up feeling rather hopeful and healing.

Stepping out of the shadow of the likes of Ben Platt and Sam Tutty is no easy task, but Ryan Kopel takes hold of the titular role and does stunning things with it. His Evan is an altogether more tremulous, timid beast even than we’ve seen before, but Kopel plays it to utter perfection. It’s a soulful, delicate, idiosyncratic and at times devastating central turn, completely earnest, and the fact Kopel is able to match the quality of his acting with equally jaw-dropping vocals only amplifies what is an already captivating performance.

Around him, Alice Fearn gets great material to showcase her formidable acting chops as Evan’s imperfect, hard-working and frustrated mum. She unsurprisingly tears up her handful of big musical moments, the sheer emotion and strength of her ‘So Big/So Small’ one of the highlights of what is a very packed evening of great vocals. Tom Dickerson is great fun and brings some much-needed levity as ‘family friend’ and co-conspirator, Jared, recruited into helping maintain Evan’s deceit. Vivian Panka is memorable as ambitious fellow outcast, Alana, who begins to realise some of Evan’s tales aren’t quite stacking up, whilst Lauren Conroy is a fascinating and naturalistic on-stage presence as potential love interest and grieving sister, Zoe.

“…a soulful, delicate, idiosyncratic and at times devastating central turn.”

In truth, though, the whole company impresses, all neatly housed in a visually arresting, high-tech playground of Morgan Large, Matt Daw and Ravi Deepres’ design. Deepres’ video work accents things often, from a melange of social media activity through to the almost blinding light of Evan’s recollections and fantasies. Much like the bustling, metropolitan, chronically online world that its characters find themselves swept up by, this is a production that is bustling, interlocking, modern and polished. Penford keeps things moving and punchy, though isn’t averse to ‘slamming on the brakes’ and letting his characters bathe in little more than a simple spotlight when the moment calls for it, such as a pivotal school assembly address.

Come its bittersweet coda, there may still be some theatregoers pondering whether or not Dear Evan Hansen has let its protagonist off lightly. It’ll doubtless fuel fan debate and those tireless TikTok and Youtube commentators for many years to come.

But to delve too deeply into such atavistic weeds would threaten to miss the point altogether. It would also dull the mature, warts-and-all frankness of the show’s ultimate message. Namely, that we’re all flawed, broken people, and even the best of us can do the wrong things for the right reason.

With a stunning, deservedly acclaimed soundtrack, masterfully reignited and invigorated by Penford and team, and boasting what should be a star-making turn for Kopel, Dear Evan Hansen is a poignant, heartfelt love letter to the foibles and frailties of the human condition.

A moving, pensive story and beautifully crafted production both, that deftly silences the critics and the naysayers. It’s a heartfelt reminder that it is often in our most glaring imperfections and unforgivable mistakes where the most unexpected beauty, and perhaps even faintest glimmer of hope, can be found.