Noel Coward Theatre
8th
February, 2020, matinee
Firstly, apologies for the radio silence of late, we have
been busy moving house and planning our upcoming wedding, so theatre and
blogging has had to take a temporary back-seat(!!!!)
Now, onto my first show of the new decade.
On the surface I should be the bullseye of the target
audience for Dear Evan Hansen – a
production which stormed Broadway in 2016 and beat out tough competition (Come From Away, Groundhog Day, Great Comet)
to triumph at that season’s Tony Awards. As documented previously on this blog,
I’ve experienced mental illness from the age of 11, and over the last 17 years
I’ve suffered from anxiety, depression and the crippling loneliness of social
isolation throughout my teens. I should
identify and profoundly relate to the central character of the musical. But,
somehow, for a show that is all about connecting with other people, I didn’t. I
will try to unpick the possible reasons for my disconnect in the following
paragraphs, but ultimately, I feel
that Benj Pasek and Justin Paul (music and lyrics) and Steven Levenson (book) have
produced a slightly disappointing and naïve take on the subjects of 21st
century adolescence, the liberation vs. encumberment of social media, and the
mental health pandemic sweeping the globe.
The story – a teenager with social anxiety unintentionally
goes viral when he claims to have been friends with a local boy that committed
suicide – has the bones of a great
drama. However, Levenson’s book fails to flesh out the plot and many of the
central characters. The sensitive subject of teen suicide could be handled in
several ways: an honest, deep and sympathetic portrayal of Connor Murphy,
illuminating the true hardships of mental illness, raising awareness of the
need for better social and medical care (a preachy but worthy approach); an
intimate chamber piece looking at the aftermath and lasting effects on the
family of the victim; or alternatively, we could be presented with a pitch
black social satire on the pitfalls of social media (echo chambers, #fakenews,
popularity contests, morbid humble-bragging and self-publicising, and the
hypocrisy of trolls that are only ready to display empathy when they have
already condemned the victim to the worst possible eventuality). Pasek, Paul
and Levenson try to portray all three
of these scenarios. It’s too much to cram into a two hour show and the
resulting lack of focus leads to a tepid and underdeveloped approach to a
subject that is close to my (and thousands of others’) hearts.
Evan Hansen is a solid leading character, and in the capable
hands of newcomer Marcus Harman, he’s engaging and likeable in his relatable angsty
ways. Yet, of and for the other characters I felt very little. For a relatively
small cast (8 actors), the other roles are lacklustre. There are several wasted
opportunities for character development – I’d have been fascinated to see more of the
psychological reasoning behind the Murphys behaviour towards Evan following
Connor’s death (especially Zoe’s internal conflict over her antagonistic
feelings for her brother), and Levenson and co. missed a chance to draw more
from the peculiar relationship between Evan and fellow loner Alana. The
eleventh hour revelations about Alana’s motives, and her attempts to connect
with others, could have been a really moving and illuminating moment in the
show, yet it’s skimmed over in a weirdly throwaway manner. Similarly, the
denouement is problematically glossed over; one minute Evan’s secret is out,
his world comes crashing down, and the next we see him months later, a slightly
more confident young man, and the intervening seasons are wavered with the odd
flippant remark. We see too little of the aftermath of this momentous
revelation. It feels a cop out to present a show that addresses such serious
topics and then drop the curtain just as it starts to get difficult – it even
seems a little cowardly. Oh well, I gather a novelisation was released
following the Broadway premier – maybe that ties up the loose ends.
I feel this muddled quality is partly down to the tonally
jarring and trite restrictiveness of Pasek and Paul’s songs. Their soaring
melodies with sugary lyrics seem more fitting for the melodramatic fanfare of
TV talent shows than a sympathetic analysis of the complexities of the teenage
social sphere. That’s not to say the songs aren’t commendable in their own
right – they’re often catchy (‘Waving through a Window’), uplifting (‘You Will
Be Found’), occasionally amusing (‘Sincerely Me’) and beautifully sung by the
cast – I just feel that, rather than adding layers of artistic or thematic
meaning to the show, they detract from the dramatic clout the piece promises.
Compared with the punchy music of Sater and Sheik’s Spring Awakening - which handles similar themes of teenage angst, relationships,
social disquiet, and suicide with lyrical piquancy that imbues the piece with a
sort of post-naivety that is unique to the adolescent psyche – Dear Evan Hansen feels pedestrian, a
polished but distant façade, not unlike Peter Nigrini’s numerous smartphone and
laptop screen projections that populate David Korins’ sparse set.
Director Michael Greif, along with choreographer Danny
Mefford, creates some nicely staged moments, notably in the comic mimicry of
‘Sincerely Me’, and the simple but effective way of portraying the isolation
vs. connectivity of social media interactions – the compartmentalising of
characters (in boxes, on screens) is a neat use of Nigrini’s projections and
videography. The role of Evan is a fantastic showcase for up and coming young
actors and it’s nice to see newcomers being given the opportunity to shine. The
supporting cast do a fine job with the material they’re given, but for all
intents and purposes Dear Evan Hansen is
a one man show.
On another positive note, it was a pleasure to see an
audience predominantly populated by young people. The teenagers around us were
evidently big fans of the show and were gripped throughout. The fact that these
youngsters (yep, I said ‘youngsters’ - wow, I feel old!) are so engaged and
moved by a piece of theatre is heart-warming, and suggests that maybe I’m not
the real target audience for Dear Evan
Hansen after all. While not quite to my taste, Pasek and Paul are
encouraging more audiences to embrace the arts, and that is commendable in and
of itself. I only wish such a promising premise had a little more ‘oomph’ in
its execution.
Dear Evan Hansen is currently booking at the Noel
Coward Theatre until 30th May 2020.
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| The cast of Dear Evan Hansen. Credit: Matthew Murphy. |
