Dear Evan Hansen has a New Look in its Paramount Theatre

---

Dear Evan Hansen is intimate and re-imagined at Paramount thru March 22nd - Review By: Paul Lisnek   

****/4

Paramount Theatre’s production of Dear Evan Hansen captures both the intimacy and the emotional impact of a modern classic.  But, in this production, it is a more intimate, character‑driven effort than the original Broadway production, which was defined by Ben Platt’s star‑making performance. Broadway introduced Dear Evan Hansen to the world; Paramount reinterprets it with a primarily Chicago-area ensemble making the material feel fresh, personal and locally grounded.

I invoke Ben Platt’s Evan because it was a once‑in‑a‑generation star turn—forcing future Evans to either pay homage to  and copy it, or create an inventive re-interpretation. The good news is that Cody Combs, delivers a very different but complementary kind of performance: his Evan is tightly wound, tender, and deeply human, more like a familiar Chicago‑suburban kid (who happened to come in from Kentucky) than a theatrical phenomenon, and this makes the story feel authentic in this venue. Combs has, with the likely assist of director Jessica Fisch, made Evan newly discoverable, less like a legend and more like someone you might actually know.  Fisch’s approach to the show is not Evan-centric, and that’s a good thing. We see Evan making choices and facing challenges more vividly shaped by the characters who surround him.

Paramount’s staging emphasizes closeness and emotional realism over spectacle, leaning into the rawness of teenage interior life and the family drama around Evan. 

On Broadway the staging relied on strong digital aesthetics, with moving screens and social‑media projections creating a high‑tech environment that constantly reminded the audience of the online world and yes it was strikingly impressive.  Paramount generally retains the show’s projections and multimedia components which is essential to its DNA, but it has re-engineered, simplified, resized and deployed them more selectively, using video to support the story without interfering or competing with live performance, the relationships, and the physical presence of the actors on stage. A director’s choice most likely, and a smart one. 

The challenge for Paramount is that when new to Broadway, DEH was shocking; a show about teen loneliness, suicide, and the impact of social media was new to the theatrical scene. So Paramount had tell a story that could resonate with the community while continuing to emphasize the requisite underlying message about mental health and relational connections, bringing all of this to what is by now a new generation of post-pandemic theatergoers. There’s a risk in a society that moves so fast that even a focused reliance on Facebook starts to seem dated. From the first anxious beats of the opening to the cathartic final moments, the show feels both contemporary and timelessly humane. The production balances full-bodied musical numbers with quiet, uncomfortable silences, allowing the themes of isolation, grief, and connection to land and sink in.

Cody Combs anchors the evening with a performance that is at once nervy, fragile, and authentic.  His Evan is not a collection of tics but a fully realized teenager whose anxiety radiates through his movements, rapid-fire speech, and voice that can crack with panic one moment and soar with a painful openness the next. In songs like “Waving Through a Window” and “You Will Be Found,” Combs rides the line between vulnerability and desperation, making Evan’s bad choices feel heartbreakingly understandable rather than merely reprehensible.

As Zoe Murphy, Isabel Kaegi brings a grounded, no‑nonsense presence that cuts straight through the sentimentality that can surround the character. 

Jake DiMaggio Lopez’s Connor Murphy is an indelible presence in what could easily could have become a peripheral role. He channels volatility, anger and pain in a way that makes every interaction with Evan feel simultaneously dangerous and deeply sad. Connor serves as Evan’s conscience, and must be observed carefully because his appearances are more than a plot device.

Bri Sudia as Cynthia Murphy gives the production an aching parental heartbeat. She captures a mother’s desperate need to rewrite a painful history with her son, clinging to the idea of the friendship between Connor and Evan as if it might retroactively save them both. Sudia’s performance is layered with conflicting emotions—hope, denial, guilt, and fierce love—and she lets those colors bleed into every scene, turning even brief exchanges into moving moments of grief. And as Jared Kleinman, Pablo David Laucerica delivers a standout performance as Jared Kleinman, combining razor-sharp comedic timing and a dry wit that keeps the audience laughing He knows the role well because he played in in the first national tour of DEH, but here at Paramount he is allowed or takes the opportunity to reveal a deeper vulnerability of jared; beneath Jared’s sarcasm is a young man facing the same internal struggles dealt with by the other characters, tho with less humor. For Jared the humor is clearly a mask which eventually comes off revealing a character who is unexpectedly moving and memorable. 

What makes this production stand out is how perfectly these  performances interlock within the larger ensemble, creating a set of relationships that feels painfully real. Paramount’s staging doesn’t just retell a beloved show; it re-energizes it, making the story feel urgent, necessary, and—by the final curtain—deeply, unexpectedly hopeful.

Dear Evan Hansen plays thru March 22nd and tickets can be purchased at: www.ParamountAurora.com