Attending productions at Simmons Pioneer Memorial Theatre is nostalgic for me because my grandma had season tickets there for several years while I was growing up. She introduced me to live theater, starting when I was 4 or 5 years old until I was about 12, taking me and my parents as her guests to see Pioneer Memorial’s musicals each season. The front row of the balcony, on the right side, was our regular spot. The seed she planted has grown into my current love of theater that has me venturing to see things independently. Seeing things at Pioneer Memorial always feels like coming home. I hadn’t seen Dear Evan Hansen before, but friends have spoken highly of it, so I decided to see Pioneer Theatre Company’s current production last Saturday afternoon. Seats in the balcony are a budget-friendly option with an excellent birdseye view, so I opted to sit there this time, a few rows behind grandma’s former seats.
Evan Hansen (Kyle Dalsimer) is an anxious, socially-awkward, and thus isolated, teenager who is starting his senior year of high school with a broken arm. His hardworking, well-intentioned, yet often physically absent, mother Heidi (Donna Vivino) has sent him to a therapist to improve his mental health. His therapist, Dr. Sherman, has assigned Evan to write a series of letters to himself describing what will be good about each day. Connor Murphy (Jordan Briggs) is a deeply troubled, often volatile, fellow student who knocks Evan down in the hallway, mistaking his awkwardness for hostility. Connor also takes Evan’s most recent letter from the school library’s printer. The letter angers Connor because it mentions his sister Zoe (Elyse Bell), whom he assumes Evan has written about in a derogatory way. (Evan does have a crush on Zoe and eventually experiences a romantic relationship with her.) Connor later ironically signs Evan’s cast as “proof” that each of them at least has one friend.
A short time later, Connor’s parents, Cynthia (Marika Aubrey) and Larry (Andrew Samonsky), arrive at the school to talk to Evan. They relate the unfortunate news that Connor has committed suicide. They found Evan’s letter in Connor’s pocket and assumed it was a suicide note from Connor to Evan, indicating that the two boys must have been close friends, further suggested by Connor’s signature on Evan’s cast, even though no one knew about the friendship.
The Murphys invite Evan to their house for dinner, hoping to learn more about their son through the eyes of his supposed best friend. Unable to articulate the truth clearly, Evan plays along with the Murphys’ misunderstanding that he and Connor were friends, telling them what they want to hear and believing that he is helping them cope with their grief. He enlists the help of another fellow student and “family friend,” Jared Kleinman (Larry Saperstein), to fabricate a series of backdated emails showing that he and Connor communicated regularly, just secretly. Evan prints the emails for the Murphys to read, and they study every word, trying to maintain a connection to Connor and reconcile the fictitious version with the son and brother they knew.
News of Connor and Evan’s secret friendship spreads around the high school and generates interest, but interest fades just as quickly as people start to forget about Connor. Evan sees Connor in a vision and becomes determined to keep Connor’s memory alive. He collaborates with Jared and fellow student Alana (Khadija E. Sanokh) to create The Connor Project, an online platform dedicated to Connor’s memory. Evan composes himself to deliver a speech at a memorial for Connor, and when a video of the speech is posted online, it goes viral. What began as playing along with a misunderstanding to assuage the family’s grief has become a lie with a life of its own. Evan benefits from perpetuating the lie — finally building relationships, receiving attention, and experiencing significance that he previously did not have — but doing so ultimately becomes unsustainable. The consequences of his choices threaten to unravel the connections he finally created.
I found the most poignant aspect of Dear Evan Hansen to be the careful juxtapositions of characters’ circumstances, thoughts, and desires to show how deeply everyone experiences alienation and yearns for authentic connection. The journey toward creating meaningful, life-sustaining connections involves earnest, but failed, attempts wherein people who “should” have healthy connections don’t. Counterfeit connections take their place: restlessly pursuing every new fad in the hope of finding fulfillment (Cynthia), creating a fictitious friendship (Evan, Connor, and Jared), spending more time with someone else’s parents than one’s own (Evan, Cynthia, and Larry), investing in someone else’s son (Cynthia, Larry, and Evan), (well-intentioned) busying oneself with work to the point of being absent from family (Heidi), and replacing real-life relationships with online clout (Evan, Alana, and Jared). The underlying, implied take-away from Dear Evan Hansen seems to be that the antidote to such profound alienation is to intentionally cultivate a sense of purpose and direction for one’s life and then share with others openly and honestly, even (especially) when it’s difficult.
Pioneer Theatre Company’s production features a strong cast whom I enjoyed for their exceptionally resonant voices and easy, natural approach to their characters. Highlights for me include Donna Vivino as Heidi and Elyse Bell as Zoe. Bell leads a particularly powerful rendition of “Requiem,” and Vivino’s “So Big, So Small” is very moving. At times, I wanted a little more energy from Kyle Dalsimer as Evan. I realize that he is portraying a character who is timid and socially-awkward — which he does well much of the time — so there may be a tendency to play the character kind of “small” to convey those characteristics. However, a little more projection, clear enunciation, and consistent pitch would elevate his performance. That said, I enjoyed his singing “Waving Through a Window,” “For Forever,” and “You Will Be Found.” The song “Disappear” was particularly impactful. I am happy to have seen Dear Evan Hansen, and its layers of meaning have continued to resonate as I have written this review.
Pioneer Theatre Company’s production of Dear Evan Hansen runs through Saturday, November 8, 2025. Patrons should be aware that the production includes strong language, references to teen drug use and rehab, and extensive discussion of mental health challenges such as depression and suicide. Profanity, including the F-word, occurs with moderate frequency to realistically depict contemporary speech, particularly among teenagers. The production treats difficult mental health topics with seriousness and sensitivity, yet the focus on this content might be upsetting for some audience members. Pioneer Theatre Company recommends that patrons be 14 years or older. Click here for information and tickets.
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