Jake DiMaggio Lopez (top), Cody Combs, and Pablo David Laucerica Photo by Boris Martin

Despite this first experience, I wasn't ready to give up on a show that had clearly meant so much to so many. So I was excited to revisit it this past weekend at my favorite regional venue, Paramount Theatre. I know the space would feel more intimate and I trusted the direction, casting, and technical execution would be top tier. And this time, instead of watching the show as a mother of three young boys, I was sitting beside my three teenage sons, watching a story about a teenage boy unfold.

Dear Evan Hansen centers on Evan (Cody Combs), an awkward high school senior obsessed with trees and struggling desperately to fit in, guided by a loving but exhausted single mother (Megan McGinnis). When a note that Evan wrote to himself–at his therapist's urging–is found on the body of a classmate who has died by suicide, Evan is entangled in a web of lies that ultimately lead him to the connection, family, and social belonging he has yearned for.

Whether we should root for Evan is one of the show's most compelling tensions. Combs' portrayal evokes much sympathy. His physicality and vocal choices capture an almost painfully believable awkwardness, making it impossible not to think of the many uncertain teens navigating identity, isolation, and mental health. Yet Evan spends much of the show lying to the grieving Murphy family, and that moral ambiguity never fully resolves. Connor Murphy himself–dead for most of the story–remains a powerful presence throughout, and Jake DiMaggio Lopez brings a surprising mix of humor, volatility, and raw edge to a role that could easily feel purely tragic. His appearances serve as an unsettling reminder that, while Evan is chasing connection, the real boy at the center of the story can never speak for himself.

Evan grows closer to the Murphy family, providing comfort to mom, Cynthia (Bri Sudia), dad, Larry (Devin DeSantis), and sister, Zoe (Isabel Kaegi)–on whom Evan harbors a major crush. But as he does so, the lies expand with the help of his sarcastic "family friend" Jared (Pablo David Laucerica), who helps him construct an entire false narrative amplified through social media. Combs masterfully navigates Evan's emotional journey, capturing both the intoxicating pull of belonging and the suffocating weight of dishonesty, especially once classmate Alana (Elaine Watson) increases the social media presence.

The ensemble is uniformly strong. The show opens with the mothers, McGinnis and Sudia, singing "Anybody Have a Map?" and I couldn't help glancing down the row at my own sons, feeling the same uncertainty about navigating adolescence. Though both maternal roles are well performed, they are written somewhat broadly, leaving us wishing for deeper insight into how these families arrived at such fragile emotional places.

All of the "teen characters" are believable as teens. Among them, Kaegi's Zoe stands out. Her portrayal captures the complicated blend of grief, resentment, guilt, and longing that accompanies losing a sibling under such painful circumstances. And on the other side of the coin, "Sincerely, Me," the upbeat number with Evan, Jared, and Connor is synchronized perfection.

Director Jessica Fisch excels not only in guiding emotionally grounded performances but also in shaping the production's visual storytelling. Andrew Boyce's multi-level set is deceptively simple yet Fisch uses it with remarkable clarity and at one point I couldn't help but lean into my son and whisper, "Look at that beautiful stage picture."

Dear Evan Hansen is not just the story of grief and loneliness but also one about the power of social media, and the production is immersed with digital culture. Projection designer Anthony Churchill's work is outstanding. The projections support the narrative and overall look without detracting from the story unfolding live onstage. Greg Hofmann's lighting design is equally striking; subtle shifts in color beautifully mirror Evan's emotional states, particularly moments when cool tones melt into warm ambers and reds. The beauty of the perfection of each technical aspect coming together and creating these beautiful moments has stayed with me.

In the end, despite strong performances and exceptional technical execution, I still find myself uncertain about how I feel regarding Dear Evan Hansen as a piece. Its emotional impact is undeniable, but its moral center remains complicated and unresolved.

What is not in doubt, however, is the excellence of this production. The Paramount continues to prove why it is my favorite regional theatre company. There is no other I would trust more with staging the first Chicago-area regional production of this Broadway hit. Whether you grew up loving this musical or are encountering it for the first time, this intimate and thoughtfully crafted staging is well worth the trip to Aurora.

Dear Evan Hansen runs through March 22, 2026, at the Paramount Theatre, 23 East Galena Blvd., Aurora IL. For tickets and information, please visit paramountaurora.com/events/dear-evan-hansen/