Story by Alex Passinisi // IG: @whichalexareyouagain // TW: @whichalexareyou // she/her

Graphic by Caroline Silva // IG: @carolinetilva // TW: @cgsilva_ // she/her

CW: suicide, mental illness

I hate to say it, but I was right. “Dear Evan Hansen” is not a good movie. 

I wasn’t expecting much from this film. I lived through the “Dear Evan Hansen” pandemonium of early 2017 and barely survived. As a theatre kid, my hatred of the musical put me in the minority at summer acting  camps and Tony Awards watch parties. No one understood why I despised Evan Hansen’s character and his stupid cast: I didn’t really know why, either. 

Five years later, and I finally understand. 

The film opens with Evan Hansen typing a letter to himself in a disgusting Calibri font. His narration of the action begins to spiral, with anxious and intrusive thoughts colliding into one another. He is a ball of nervous, neurotic energy. As the movie keeps rolling, I realize that is all Evan is; he is personified entirely through his mental illness. Evan simply does not have a personality, and no one in his life can stand him. 

The movie is not interested in thoroughly depicting a child’s struggle with their mental health. Evan’s illness is the catalyst of all the monstrous actions in this film. After Evan is accidentally implicated as the only friend of a boy who committed suicide, Evan creates an elaborate tale to notify the deceased child’s family. Evan is too anxious to tell the truth, and his unspoken loneliness pushes him to accept the contrived company of a person he never knew. 

The structure of “Dear Evan Hanson” is quite choppy, jumping between scenes without any space for the characters to reflect on their actions. We see Evan throw up once, supposedly driven by the guilt of lying to that boy’s innocent family. However, the scene lasts maybe five seconds and quickly cuts to the next phase of Evan’s scheme. Perhaps this method worked in the stage musical, but films are designed to allow interiority into their  characters. The audience does not get to see Evan’s progression as a person, and the movie becomes a series of vignettes about a horrible person ruining a family’s life. 

By the end of the film, we are supposed to believe Evan has become a good person, creating genuine connections with people without any anxiety. But all he did was lie, apologize in song, cry about trucks and trees and get his cast off. 

We as an audience are expected to sympathize with Evan, but I was hurt. I wanted to see myself in Evan. I, too, struggle with anxiety and depression, just like him. My strategies for taking care of myself include antidepressants and seeing a therapist. For Evan, these actions aren’t solutions; they are indications that he is an unfixable person. 

I couldn’t help asking myself, “Was I like this? Am I Evan?” 

The supposed goal of this story is to create connection, teaching kids that they are not the only ones struggling. All this film did was remind me of the intense stigma this country places on mental health and challenge the work I have done to get better. In a story about claiming acceptance, all I could see were the pieces of me deemed unworthy. 

So, for any other mentally ill theatre kids out there, I want to say: you are not alone. No, really. This movie sucks, and there is nothing wrong with you. You are strong and courageous and good. Save yourself the anguish, and go watch the “Legally Blonde: The Musical” MTV bootleg instead. 

If you are looking for help or community, I encourage you to check out the resources below. 

Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration: https://www.samhsa.gov/find-help/national-helpline

National Suicide Prevention Hotline: 1-800-273- 8255

Austin/ UT Austin Resources:

https://namicentraltx.org/resources/

https://integralcare.org/en/innovative-care/

https://cmhc.utexas.edu/contactcmhc.html

https://healthyhorns.utexas.edu/thrive/

Sincerely, 

A mentally ill theatre kid