I should probably start with advice before you go see this show: bring tissues. A whole box like the woman in the row ahead of me, not a little value pack. And I also want to make sure that advice doesn’t scare you off—“Dear Evan Hansen” at the Forestburgh Playhouse is a hit. It’s moving and emotional and it keeps you hooked through the heartstrings from the opening line to the very last note. A show about a boy, and largely the people around him, who all suffer from a similar affliction: loneliness. A fear of not being seen or heard. Something so innately human I’m sure most, if not all of us, can relate to (I know I sure can). A story about the lengths we’ll go to feel some form of connection not just following a tragedy, but every day in a world where we all seem so disconnected.

Jackson Chase is brilliant as the titular character Evan—lovably awkward, the underdog you want to root for even when the things he does may seem a little morally gray. His voice is angelic and each song you can see his confidence grow from “Waving Through A Window” to “For Forever” and “If I Could Tell Her”. He and the whole cast bring the house down with “You Will Be Found,” and I challenge you to find a dry eye in the house when you go. His “Words Fail” is heart wrenching. He hits home with the fear and shame Evan holds inside with his depression but also injects some levity into the character. A star in the making!

Stacie Bono is a showstopper as Evan’s mother Heidi. She’s got the rock and roll vocals that carry “Good for You” and then turns her powerhouse vocals into an almost-lullaby that make you want to call your Mom in “So Big/So Small.” She’s wonderful in every scene and portrays the vulnerability of not being able to help someone in a way that feels relatable and real.

The grieving Murphy Family portrayed by Christina Stroup as mother Cynthia, Marc Donovan as father Larry, and Mary Surette as daughter Zoe are something to behold. Their “Requiem” is a beautifully haunting piece that melds their voices together in a wonderful representation of different stages of the grieving process: denial, bargaining and anger. Surette delivers a gorgeous performance in “Only Us” during Act II and her vocals stand out in each song she joins the ensemble. Donovan’s duet with Chase in “To Break in A Glove” is an unexpected tear-jerker as a father comes to terms with his grief and reckons his choices to do things “the hard way and the right way”.

There is one more member of the Murphy Family who haunts the production: son Connor Murphy who commits suicide early in the show, played by Griffin Small. Small’s portrayal of the angry druggie who signs Evan’s cast in the beginning of the show is nuanced and you can see that he and Evan are two sides of the same coin: young men who don’t know how to reach out for help, but who yearn for connection. While his character haunts ethereally the rest of the show (his appearance during “You Will Be Found” is a subtle and beautiful nod as Marc Donovan makes eye contact with his ghost) he also appears as Evan’s imaginary confidant and conscience. He sings through a few reprises, but his work in “Sincerely, Me” with Chase and Spencer Orton (playing Evan’s family friend Jared Kleinman) is a standout performance and a necessary comedic break in a show that deals with heavy topics.

I always feel I run out of room with reviews so a few quick mentions: Jocylon Evans stuns with her performance as Alana Beck adding her powerful voice to both “Disappear” and “Good for You” and the whole ensemble is fantastic in this show. Kudos to choreographer Caitlin Evans who managed to portray both the loneliness of teenagers (I mean all humans honestly) with the use of cell phones and connection when they finally put them down and reach out to one another. Director Roque Berlanga should be proud of his direction and cast–everybody is fantastic. The show handles some really tough topics but still leaves you feeling hopeful with the reminder that being here is enough, to look for the light and the sky, and to hold on and keep going. Because that’s all a part of being human.

Additionally, the July 22nd performance of the show is National Alliance of Mental Illness (NAMI) night where a portion of each ticket will go to the organization. NAMI representatives are at each performance offering information for those curious about or struggling with mental health conditions. If you or someone you know is struggling, please reach out to the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline by calling 988.

“Dear Evan Hansen” runs July 14 through July 26 at 8 p.m. on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Fridays and Saturdays, 2 p.m. on Wednesdays, and 3 p.m. on Sundays. You can purchase tickets online through fbplayhouse.org or by calling the box office at 845-794-1194.