Dear Evan Hansen

Fresh from the WADS Youth Group’s recent triumph at the regional NODA awards, the company arrived on stage with expectations already set to “high”. Their adult-group performance of “Dear Evan Hansen” met with anticipation. It was a few years since this group had performed and what a show to return on. This is a nuanced show which was tackled with real care – an evening that landed frequent emotional punches.

As was announced before the lights came up, this was among the first amateur productions of the title in the UK. Full disclosure: I am currently rehearsing the show elsewhere in the region (as Larry), so I came in both excited and hyper-aware of how easily one can compare interpretations. Credit to WADS: once the storytelling got underway, their production asserted its own identity and drew me in on its own terms.

Visually, the production was smart. The set was purposefully simple – bed, dining table, sofa, and a handful of dressing pieces - creating an uncluttered space that kept the attention where it should be: on the show’s central idea of an online world that multiplies and mutates at speed. The projected screens did the heavy lifting, with flashes of social media, texts, and web pages spreading across the back wall and proscenium. It was a clear visual and in the best moments it captured exactly how quickly a post can trend.

There were a few opening-night tremors in the technical department. Early in Act Two there was a moment when Evan’s microphone threatened to become a distracting subplot, though it was quickly remedied. Lighting was generally well judged for mood and focus, but several missed marks left faces frequently in shadow - the kind of thing that I am sure would have been sorted on subsequent performances.

One of the more interesting challenges for an amateur company in Dear Evan Hansen is scale: the professional version is tight, with little room for a traditional ensemble. WADS handle that balance thoughtfully. When the company was allowed to step forward, they do so with strong harmonies and purposeful staging. A standout was “You Will Be Found”, where voices emerged from the auditorium, faces faintly lit by phone screens - an image which complimented the emotional end to Act One.

At the centre of this show is Evan, here played by Dylan Cardy, a role that barely grants its performer time to breathe, let alone leave the stage. While the text never labels Evan, many understand him as neurodiverse. Dylan’s character work was consistent and detailed, with mannerisms that felt natural rather than imposed. There were some first-song nerves, and I briefly wondered whether a couple of higher notes might have been a step to far, but Dylan quickly found his place. From there the vocals held strong, and—crucially—he earned the audience’s empathy as the story’s moral dilemmas unfolded. His chemistry with Zoe was very convincing and by the end I really felt for this character’s turmoil.

Zoe Murphy (Zara Minns) matched Evan with a performance of real emotional clarity. Vocally she was secure throughout, and her “Requiem” was particularly emotional - clean, controlled, and charged enough to justify the cheer it received.

As Heidi, Evan’s mum, Amy Wreathall also had a few opening-night jitters; her American accent initially seemed to roam across state lines. Yet her performance settled and by the time “So Big/So Small” arrived, the audience was wholly with her; it landed as the intimate penultimate number it should be.

Cynthia (Kerry Maltby) and Larry (Joe Robbins) guided us through the rollercoaster of their grief, trying to make sense of Connor’s death. Cynthia’s vocals were strong throughout. Larry’s journey, in particular, was handled with impact: his breaking point in “You Will Be Found” hit with genuine force and the reflective tenderness at the end of “Break in a Glove” got me at my core. I’ll take that emotion into my own performance later this year!

Separately, the production leans on its comic counterweights. Connor (Zack-Rhys Wymer), Jarred (Hugo D’Cunha) and Alana (Nicole Drury) provided the necessary lift against the show’s heavier emotional themes, and all three strongly delivered: Connor’s vocals in “Sincerely Me” were a particular pleasure, Jared’s dialogue landed with sharp timing, and Alana’s preppy, driven characterisation was neatly judged.

Special praise, too, to the band for creating a satisfyingly full sound in a score that is deceptively difficult to keep clean. Naomi D’Cunha, conducting, deserves credit for the musical control (and stamina!) that was required to hold the singers and players together through tricky rhythmic turns.

Overall, this was a confident and strong production from WADS and it was clear how much work had gone into the direction (credit Tim Meikle) and detail from the wider production team. Well done to all involved – another success!

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