ST. GEORGE — Good theater leaves the audience feeling entertained; but great theater leaves the audience forever changed. For anyone attending The Stage Door’s production of Dear Evan Hansen, with book by Steven Levenson, the latter is absolutely the case. Thanks to the strength of its cast, the difficult but necessary conversation it opens, and the beautiful music by Benj Pasek and Justin Paul weaves together a tapestry onto which humanity can grasp, the opportunity to leave the experience with a new perspective and a new resolve is ready and waiting at The Electric Theater in St. George.
Editor’s Note: Production Photos have not yet been received by UTAJ. When they are, they will be added to this review. Photos can be provided through this form.
Under the careful direction of Jalee Scott, Dear Evan Hansen brings the topics of mental health and suicide to the forefront in a way that is real and raw, but with a measure of hope in the wake of the journey. Scott’s decision not to back away from some of the rougher language and crass dialogue should certainly be noted for anyone thinking this to be a production for all ages (it really isn’t). However, it is ultimately the right decision as those jarring verbal exchanges assist in the authenticity of the story and the modern time in which it is presented.
The story follows Evan Hansen, a high school student with extreme social anxiety, whose therapist has assigned him to write letters to himself, beginning with “Dear Evan Hansen.” Meanwhile, Connor Murphy, the school reprobate, takes Evan’s letter just to mess with him. Later, when Connor’s parents discover Connor has taken his own life, they find the letter to Evan and assume the two were good friends. Rather than telling the truth, Evan goes along with the misunderstanding, propelling it forward with more letters and more lies, taking Evan, his classmates, and the Murphy family on a journey of eventual healing and acceptance as they explore some of the life’s difficult challenges.
Steering the cast through the turbulent reality of high school, Gideon Barfuss as Evan Hansen is as endearing as he is anxiety ridden. While he started out a little shaky with a few flustered lines, those could easily be written off as part of his character’s verbal stumbling. Barfuss warmed to the role as the show went on, emerging fully formed in his rendition of “For Forever.” His vocals remained innocent and simple, allowing the message to pour from his heart in pure, almost youthful form. Later performances on songs like “If I Could Tell Her” and “You Will Be Found” also held true to his clear, straightforward delivery, but it was his body language throughout the performance that really sold Barfuss as the awkward, nervous teen. From the floppy curls of his hair behind which he seemed to want to hide, to his all-too-relatable stream of conscience replay of his interactions with his peers, and his inability to maintain eye contact, Barfuss owned the Evan Hansen role.
Paige Allred as Heidi Hansen turns in a masterclass on how to evoke emotion in her remarkable performance as the single mother of Evan. Strapped with the burden of working and going to school while constantly worrying about Evan’s social and mental health, the arc of her concern blossoms beautifully in “Anybody Have a Map,” followed by the release of her built up stress in “Good for You”, and ultimately amid painful resolution in the gut-wrenching performance of “So Big / So Small.” Skillfully, Allred brings the audience with her to the brink without any overacting. The chemistry between Allred and Barfuss felt realistic, with one particular moment worth noting: an image of Barfuss’s much larger frame curled into Cynthia as his mother on the sofa in their home as she consoles the little boy and the nearly grown man versions of Evan at the same time. It is both beautiful and haunting. Hats off to the director for capitalizing on their sizes and chemistry there.
In a similar vein, Ashlie Davenport as Cynthia Murphy was incredibly convincing in her grief, offering a heart-breaking image of a mother shaken by unspeakable loss. Her emotions unfolded so naturally, without a hint of acting getting in the way. The performance felt so real, there were times it felt less like watching a play, and more like being a fly on the wall in the home of a family in crisis. Additionally, the forces pulling against Davenport as Cynthia and Steven Olson as her onstage husband Larry Murphy, added even more to the aftermath of the death of their son, Connor, played by Marcus Mejia.
Connor’s presence on stage even after his death adds to the complexity of the storyline. Mejia manages this complexity well, adding humor to the darkness of the show by acting out the movements dictated by William Osness as Jared Kleinman — the family friend helping write the fictitious emails supposedly exchanged between Connor and Evan.
Supporting the overall storyline as the kinds of teen personalities likely found in any high school were Osness’ version of Jared — the cool guy maintaining his status by putting others down — and Kayla Morrison as Alana Beck — the uber-involved teen making a name for herself, but few deep friendships. Each turned in excellent performances, as did Mattea Denney as Connor’s sister, Zoe, who managed to communicate grief, anger, curiosity, love and pain at regular intervals, including during renditions of “Requiem” and “Only Us.”
If there were areas to improve, most of those emerged in the technical side of the play. Because of the size of the stage, the implementation of three LED panels was an excellent decision to increase the visual space. Unfortunately, one of the panels was glitching throughout the performance, which was distracting. Second, a variety of mic issues made portions of some songs difficult to hear — such as the ensemble lines on “Good For You” and even Allred’s leading vocals on that number.
Beyond the LED panels, the rest of the space designed by Joshua Scott with props by Kerry Kimball, featured a surprising number of pieces — two different beds, desks, kitchen table, chairs, two different couches, and others — that all had to be moved on and off quickly and frequently. The cast and crew did a great job keeping those set changes as smooth as possible, but there were times the frequency with which things had to move felt a bit cumbersome. Other aspects, however, such as the director’s decision to have many of the teenager interactions happen through a screen, as they looked out toward the audience behind a computer or tablet, added to the modern feel of the production, and negated the need for another set change.
Ultimately, though, it was the message behind the music and the movements that rang out crystal clear. In the midst of trial, tumult and despair, “You are not alone” and “You Will Be Found.” And if you’re looking to see this kind of hope unfold on stage, you will also be found at The Electric Theater.
MORE INFO: DEAR EVAN HANSEN is currently playing at The Electric Theater (68 E Tabernacle, St. George, UT 84770) as part of The Stage Door’s 2026-27 season. Performances are held at 7:30 PM on Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays with 2:00 PM matinees on Saturdays through October 10, 2026. Tickets are $25 for adults, Seniors for $22 and $19 for students and Military (with ID). For the most up-to-date schedule, performance details, and official ticketing, visit the STAGE DOOR’s website: https://www.stagedoorutah.com/shows/dear-evan-hansen
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