Review: DEAR EVAN HANSEN at Cygnet Theatre

Loneliness is a powerful thing, especially when you are a teenager convinced that everyone else has figured out how to belong. Cygnet Theatre’s Dear Evan Hansen understands that and builds an exceptionally polished musical around it. 

The musical follows Evan Hansen (Aiden Meyndert), a lonely, socially anxious teenager desperate to connect with the people around him. After Connor Murphy (Tyler Martinez) takes one of Evan’s self-affirmation letters and later dies by suicide with the letter in his pocket, Connor’s grieving parents, Larry (David S. Humphrey) and Cynthia (Sydney Joyner), assume Evan was their son’s friend. Rather than correct them, Evan lets the misunderstanding grow, eventually fabricating emails and memories of their nonexistent friendship with help from his friend Jared (Danny Holmes).  Suddenly, the invisible kid is visible to everyone at school and beyond, and the attention becomes increasingly difficult to give up.

Meyndert is excellent as Evan, capturing both his desperation and the crushing weight of what he has set in motion. His “Waving Through a Window” and “Words Fail” are aching performances, and Evan’s awkwardness and anxiety are so apparent it almost feels like you can reach out and touch it.  Bethany Slomka is heartbreaking as Evan’s mother, especially in the second act when she begins to understand just how much has been happening behind her back.  During her “So Big/So Small,” many in the audience were crying.

Nio Russell is a standout as Zoe, Connor’s wounded and angry sister, particularly in “Requiem.”  David S. Humphrey and Sydney Joyner bring real tenderness to Connor’s devastated parents. Tyler Martinez has little to do as the living Connor, but becomes Evan’s imagined Connor: part ghost, part angry, emo Jiminy Cricket as he first encourages Evan and eventually makes clear the truth Evan has been failing to admit to himself.  

Danny Holmes is a very funny pseudo-friend to Evan as Jared, and a bit of a chaos demon who plays along for his own amusement. He initially tells Evan his plans are a bad idea before helping Evan largely as a lark and then becomes increasingly invested in the attention surrounding their creation. The number "Sincerely Me" featuring Meyndert, Martinez, and Holmes is high-energy and very entertaining.

Tash Gomez brings energy and nuance to Alana, whose desire to belong leads her to build a foundation in Connor’s memory despite being, by her own admission, merely “a close acquaintance.”

McCarty’s experience working with young people, graphics, projections, and creating his own work as a San Diego artist all come through here, creating a production that is both emotionally effective and technically assured. The production has an energy that makes its technical elements feel like part of the storytelling rather than things happening around it. With scenic designer Nicholas Ponting, projection designer Sierra, lighting designer Caroline Andrew, and Costume Designer Grace Wong, he creates a world where phones and screens are not simply props but part of the storytelling language. The technical elements move seamlessly from funny pre-show announcements to moments of genuine emotional weight.

Theresa Maigue Bendorf’s choreography is equally smart, using the ensemble to create sculpted silhouettes, bustling movement, and striking images of people physically together while emotionally isolated behind their phones. The choreography for "Sincerely Me" is a crowd pleaser.

Patrick Marion’s musical direction keeps the pop score moving with precision. The musicians give the score an immediacy that is impossible to replicate, and the vocal demands of this show are considerable. This cast handles it all beautifully. 

Much of it feels painfully current. Loneliness can be corrosive. Mental health struggles cannot be solved by simply telling someone to reach out. In an era when a single post can turn a private tragedy into a public movement overnight, the show’s questions about connection, attention, and online identity remain uncomfortably relevant.

Here is where Dear Evan Hansen creates a divide for some. The show is exceptionally good at making audiences understand Evan. His anxiety is real. His desperation is real. His longing to be seen and accepted is painfully recognizable. So is the extraordinary damage he causes to a grieving family.

Yet the real Connor and his family remain somewhat sketched-in as the story keeps its focus firmly on Evan. That choice makes it easier to stay inside Evan’s experience rather than sit with the full consequences of what he has done. It is a fascinating bit of emotional sleight of hand that some audiences love, and others find questionable.

The cast is terrific, the technical elements are beautifully integrated, and the emotions land exactly where they are meant to. You may or may not have some issues with the story, but Cygnet has made a production of Dear Evan Hansen that gives audiences plenty to feel and discuss on the way home.

How To Get Tickets

Dear Evan Hansen is running through October 11th at Cygnet Theatre. For ticket and showtime information, go to cygnettheatre.org

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