Evan Hansen is a pathologically shy loner who is trying to work through a few psychological issues — like talking to people without fainting or throwing up.
CERRITOS, CA—FEBRUARY 14, 2025
As the title character in DEAR EVAN HANSEN, a fragile, broken-spirited teenager with no real friends who inadvertently becomes a social media sensation, the marvelous young actor Michael Fabisch is giving a performance that’s not likely to be bettered on any West Coast stage anytime soon.
Through the alchemy of Michael Greif (“Rent,” “Grey Gardens,” “Next to Normal”), who directed the original 2016 production, this gorgeous heartbreaker of a musical, which opened at Cerritos Center for the Performing Arts last night for a three-day weekend run, has grown in emotional potency since its Second US Tour began three months ago (having been first produced Off Broadway, then ran for six years at New York’s Music Box Theatre, followed by a 2021 Universal film starring original lead Ben Platt). Never have I heard so many stifled sobs and sniffles in the theater.
For those allergic to synthetic sentiment, rest assured that the show, with a haunting score by Benj Pasek and Justin Paul (not since Tom Kitt’s “Next to Normal” has a score tapped so deeply into the troubled psyche of its needy, misunderstood protagonist), matched by a book of equal sensitivity by Steven Levenson, doesn’t sledgehammer home its affecting story. On the contrary, the musical finds endless nuances in the relationships among its characters, and makes room for some leavening humor, too.
The insightful lyrics in the score seamlessly merge with the dialogue synchronously. “Is anybody waving back at me?” is the heart-stopping last line of “Waving Through a Window.” “Two friends / True friends / On a perfect day” are the equally powerful last lines of the spine-tingling “For Forever.”
In song after song, the lyrics reach for the unspoken feelings hiding behind the words. Better yet, there’s not a hint of sentimentality. Evan’s awkward efforts to write a friendly email to Connor are downright hilarious, yet in a pathetic way: “Dear Connor Murphy / Yes, I also miss our talks / Stop doing drugs / Just try to take deep breaths and go on walks.”
Evan Hansen, at first glance, may appear to be a stock figure — a misfit kid who’s too shy to make friends and eats lunch in the cafeteria alone. But Mr. Fabisch’s remarkable performance of a neurotic odd fish out of water trying to survive senior year in high school instantly scrubs free any trace of the generic. He’s lonely, true, but too self-conscious to make any friends, aside from the Janus-faced, smart -mouthed Jared (Gabriel Vernon Nunag, who looks like he probably was a high school brainiac himself), providing injections of snarky humor, while being corralled into helping Evan hide the truth by fabricating a series of emails.
Book writer Levenson has given Mr. Fabisch's Evan the funniest and most pathetic symbol of teenage loneliness — someone so unpopular, he can’t get anyone to sign the cast on his broken arm. His Evan is a startling jumble of exposed nerve endings. His eyes blink in continual embarrassment at the twisted pretzels of words that tumble from his mouth at breakneck speed whenever he has to interact socially, which isn’t often. He quails at the thought of having to make small talk with a pizza delivery guy. Underneath the thick layers of insecurity, however, Mr. Fabisch transmits the yearning heart and the desperation for affection — or even just attention — that ultimately gets Evan into deep trouble.
Book and lyrics are equally driven by the character of Evan. Although he’s made it to senior year, Evan suffers from the kind of debilitating anxiety that demands regular shrink visits and many pills. Mr. Fabisch, an extraordinarily personable actor, gives a carefully choreographed physical performance that makes his emotional discomfort painfully clear. His shoulders slump, his chest caves into his backbone, his whole body is wracked with physical and vocal tics.
Evan’s mom, Heidi (in a warm performance by Bre Cade), is a caring mother. But she works long hours as a nurse’s aide while going to school at night to become a paralegal. To her credit, she makes sure that her son takes his meds and sees his shrink, who has given him the ego-building task of writing himself a chin-up letter every day. “Sincerely, Me,” a sweetly wry song about these back-patting letters, finds Evan alone on a dark stage, bombarded by visual cues from the social media sites that he and his classmates live by. (Peter Nigrini did the fine projection design, in conjunction with Japhy Weideman on lighting.)
But Evan can’t put his heart into these letters to himself, and by the end of the song, he’s thoroughly depressed. “Would anybody even notice if I disappear?” As it turns out, the message of this touching show answers that cri de coeur in the lyric of a song: “No one deserves to disappear.” No matter how lonely you are, how lost, “You are not alone / You will be found.”
In a twist of fate, one of Evan’s discarded letters is snatched by Connor Murphy (in a terrific turn from Alex Pharo), whose psychological travails run even deeper than Evan’s. Connor is the brother of Zoe (Hatty Ryan King, smart and sensitive), the object of Evan’s hopeless crush. Connor is also a very troubled kid, who wears his hair long and messy and dresses in a style that Jared flippantly describes as “school shooter chic.”
When Connor commits suicide with the letter still in his pocket, everyone takes it as a suicide note, jumping to the conclusion that he and Evan were great friends. Invisible to the entire student body until this dramatic development, Evan suddenly finds himself in the spotlight. Evan has long had a crush on Ms. King's Zoe, and naturally draws her nearer to him.
Meanwhile, the students set up a website to honor their “friend” and collect money for a memorial. “Connor’s being dead is the best thing that ever happened to you,” snaps snippy Alana Beck (Makena Jackson, played with the bossy eagerness of a classic overachiever). The stunning set, by David Korins, is dominated by a series of abstract screens that flash spasmodically with images of posts and tweets when the Connor Project spreads like a wildfire.
In his agonizing self-consciousness, Evan is unable to make it clear to Connor’s parents (given painfully realistic performances by Caitlyn Sams and Jeff Brooks) that he and their son barely knew one another. Although Evan tries to stutter out the truth, ultimately, he cannot bear to tell them the real provenance of the letter, especially after seeing how pathetically happy it makes them, thinking their miserable son actually had a friend. So, ever mindful of the proximity of his beloved Zoe, Evan gives in and plays the role of the family’s surrogate son.
But having made a new person of Connor, Evan buys into his own fantasy. Connor becomes “his best and dearest friend” — the friend who shares his love of trees and climbs to the top with him — the friend who runs to Evan when he falls and breaks his arm.
“We’d talk and take in the view,” is the lovely, lying memory in the song “For Forever” — just “two friends on a perfect day.” We only wish it were true.
As Evan becomes more entangled in his deception, Mr. Fabisch’s performance grows richer and more wrenching. We see how seductive Evan finds this newfound attention, but also how the knowledge of his duplicity is eating away at him. Even as he basks in a new confidence, he senses — as we all do — part of his soul is slipping away.
Naturally, the story of a teenage suicide and a lonely young man caught up in a web of self-devised deception has its sad aspects, stirring up not only feelings and cathartic compassion for Evan’s efforts to do good, but also disappointment, anguish, frustration...making the audience a little heartsick that he’s causing more trouble than he can cure. The musical is definitely yeastier and more complex than the usual sugary diversions, but should appeal to those who have felt, at some point in their life, trapped “on the outside looking in,” as one lyric put it. And really…that’s just about everybody with a beating heart, isn’t it?
CERRITOS CENTER FOR THE PERFORMING ARTS & CROSSROADS LIVE NORTH AMERICA PRESENT — DEAR EVAN HANSEN; Book by STEVEN LEVENSON; Music and Lyrics by BENJ PASEK & JUSTIN PAUL; Original Broadway Production Directed by MICHAEL GREIF; Direction Recreated by DANNY SHARRON & MARK MYARS; Original Broadway Production Choreography by DANNY MEFFORD; Choreography Recreated by MARK MYARS; Music Director MICHAEL HOPEWELL; This Performance Conducted by ALEX GUTIERREZ; Music Supervision, Orchestration & Additional Arrangements ALEX LACAMOIRE; Music Coordinator TALITHA FEHR; Vocal Arrangements & Additional Arrangements JUSTIN PAUL; Scenic Design by DAVID KORINS; Projection Design by PETER NIGRINI; Costume Design by EMILY REBHOLZ; Lighting Design by JAPHY WEIDEMAN; Sound Design by NEVIN STEINBERG; Production Manager GREGG DAMANTI; General Manager ANDREW TERLIZZI; Company Manager AARON MARTIN; Executive Producer JAYNA NEAGLE; Production Stage Managers ANNA KLEVIT & KATY GENTRY.
STARRING: BRE CADE as Heidi Hansen; JEFF BROOKS as Larry Murphy; MICHAEL FABISCH as Evan Hansen; Select Performances: MICHAEL PEREZ as Evan Hansen; MAKENA JACKSON as Alana Beck; HATTY RYAN KING as Zoe Murphy; GABRIEL VERNON NUNAG as Jared Kleinman; ALEX PHARO as Connor Murphy; CAITLYN SAMS as Cynthia Murphy.
VIRTUAL COMMUNITY VOICES: JACOB ANDERSON, NAREE ASHERIAN, KARALYN CLARK, VITA DREW, ADAM DUNSON, AYLER EVAN, WILL HALEY, TODD HART, ROBERT HYATT, PAUL JOHNSON, BRANDON NIX, DANICA RUIZ, JOLANA SAMPSON-WILLIAMSON, CHRISTINE SHEBECK, CONNOR SIMPSON, KATE STEELE, NICOLE UNGER.
UNDERSTUDIES: BLAKE EHRLICHMAN – Evan Hansen, Connor Murphy, Jared Kleinman; MICHAEL PEREZ – Evan Hansen, Connor Murphy; JENNA KANTOR – Heidi Hansen, Cynthia Murphy; MONICA BLUME (Dance Captain) – Heidi Hansen, Cynthia Murphy, Alana Beck; JULIANNA BRAGA – Alana Beck, Zoe Murphy; JARED SVOBODA – Larry Murphy.
DEAR EVAN HANSEN performs Friday, February 14th at 8pm; Saturday, February 15th at 2pm & 8pm; Sunday, February 16th at 2pm at Cerritos Center for the Performing Arts in Cerritos. 18000 Park Plaza Drive Cerritos, CA 90703. Two hours with one 15-min intermission. For Tickets contact Box Office at 562-916-8500 or visit www.ccpa.cerritos.gov/
Chris Daniels
Arts & Entertainment Reviewer
The Show Report
