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Theater Review: DEAR EVAN HANSEN (Cygnet / San Diego)
by Milo Shapiro | September 17, 2026
in San Diego, Theater
YOU WILL BE WON OVER
Cygnet delivers a moving, beautifully acted
production with terrific voices
Hooray for misunderstandings! Where would theatre be without them? And in Cygnet Theatre’s excellent production of Dear Evan Hansen, some serious misunderstandings rule.
The specifics of high school senior Evan Hansen’s (Aiden Meyndert) personality quirkiness are not spelled out in the script, but he is clearly somewhere on the spectrum, leading to social anxiety, low self-esteem, and depression. He’d likely be most comfortable if he could just be left alone, but his financially-strapped-yet-loving mother Heidi (Bethany Slomka) is determined to help him grow through therapy and maybe even making a friend. His one confidant is Jared (Danny Holmes), who only tolerates calls from Evan because their mothers are friends.
Evan faces a double-edged sword with the kids from a wealthy family in town: he has a massive crush on their daughter Zoe (Nio Russell), a junior at his school, but her brother Connor (Tyler Martinez) is an intimidating, brooding, stoner bully in Evan’s grade. During a short conversation between the boys, it appears that the plot might come from the two loners finding some common ground, but this hope is quickly dashed.
The show derives its name from a homework assignment that Evan gets from his therapist: Write a letter to yourself starting with “Dear Evan Hansen” and ending with “Sincerely, your best and most dearest friend, Me.” Before Evan can retrieve the letter from the printer at school, Connor finds it and angrily believes (because it mentions Zoe) that the letter was intended for him to find. To Evan’s horror, Connor races off with it. Evan fears Connor will use the letter against him, but fate takes an even darker turn when, that weekend, Connor commits suicide. Connor’s family mistake the letter for the final thoughts of their supposedly friendless son, apparently written to some close friend named Evan, whom they are baffled to have never heard of before. While that all may sound like a lot, it’s only about the first fifteen minutes of Steven Levenson’s book, and the core of the plot truly begins when Evan must deal with the letter’s impact upon Connor’s parents (Sydney Joyner and David Humphrey) and Zoe.
Musically, the first few songs are a little forgettable, with Benj Pasek and Justin Paul’s lyrics doing a lot of narrative work, but that changes to songs with stronger hooks and more emotional impact as the show goes on. In particular, “Requiem” is stirringly poignant and “You Will Be Found” had me wanting to download the cast album later. Pasek and Paul clearly love harmony, and the cast brings some gorgeous vocal blending. The live unseen band is so on target that I had thought the show was pre-recorded until the curtain call, when we finally see them. And, unlike so many bigger shows at the Civic, every sung word of Dear Evan Hansen is audible (which I appreciated after straining through The Phantom of the Opera last week).
While this show doesn’t utilize dance deeply, choreographer Theresa Maigue Bendorf coordinates beautifully with director Blake McCarty to create feeling through movement. In one of the earliest songs, “Waving Through a Window,” classmates staring at overly bright prop cell phones circle about Evan in school, establishing the theme of young people overly concerned with social media and reinforcing Evan’s sense of overwhelm around his peers.
The show is atypically long (three hours with the included intermission), but at no point does it drag, despite moments where McCarty allows for some exquisitely slow responses that fill the house with tension.
Initially, I questioned whether Meyndert’s voice was the best choice for the lead role, but as the show goes on and Evan grows personally, he displays some lovely falsetto moments and sustained notes, showing that his character choices were partly responsible for my initial impression of his voice. In terms of his acting, he strikes a strong balance of making Evan uncomfortable to watch but not so uncomfortable that we don’t want to be around him or feel empathy. The tics are both tough to see and endearing. He lands the role beautifully and movingly, but the big moment of the night still goes to Slomka with her tear-inducing “So Big/So Small” cry for how hard single parenthood is, especially for a woman with little means and a challenging child that she deeply loves.
Cygnet has given Dear Evan Hansen the kind of production that makes it easy to understand why the musical became such a phenomenon. The voices are terrific, the staging keeps three hours moving, and the performances make even some very bad decisions feel painfully human. What begins with a misunderstanding ultimately becomes something far more moving: a story about how desperately people need to be seen.
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photos by Karli Cadel
Dear Evan Hansen
Cygnet Theatre
Joseph Clayes III Theater at The Joan and Irwin Jacobs Performing Arts Center, 2880 Roosevelt Road in San Diego
Wed.–Fri. 7; Sat. 2 & 7; Sun. 2; additional Wed. Sept. 23 at 2
ends on Oct. 4, 2026
3 hours, including intermission
for tickets (from $54), call 619.337.1525 or visit Cygnet Theatre
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