“DO NOT forget your tissues: Room 29 deliver a heartfelt Dear Evan Hansen”
There’s something very brave about an amateur company taking on Dear Evan Hansen. It’s emotionally relentless, vocally demanding, and, let’s be honest, comes with a fair amount of audience expectation. Room 29 fling themselves at it anyway, and the result is a production that’s occasionally scrappy, stirring, and, and genuinely and completely moving.
For the uninitiated (welcome, and brace yourself), Dear Evan Hansen follows an anxious, socially isolated teenager who, through a spiralling misunderstanding, becomes entangled in the aftermath of a classmate’s death. What begins as a small lie, one intended to comfort a grieving family, snowballs into something far bigger, exploring loneliness, connection, mental health, and the very modern ways we curate our lives online. It’s not always an easy watch, but it is a compelling one when handled with care, as it is here.
I must address the elephant in the Church Hill Theatre: the sound. Opening night brought the usual acoustic gremlins, and at times the mix felt uneven, with several of the female voices particularly dampened or swallowed entirely. If you’ve spent any time in this venue, you’ll know this is something of a rite of passage rather than a fatal flaw, and I am confident things will settle as the run continues. Still, there were moments where you longed to fully catch a lyric that seemed to drift just out of reach especially in my favourite opening number of all time – Does Anybody Have a Map?
In the title role, Sebastien Schneeberger delivers a performance that is, quite simply, vocally sumptuous. His tone is lush, resonant, and leans more towards a classical baritone than the breathy, pop-influenced sound audiences might expect. Does it entirely scream “awkward American high schooler”? Maybe not. But does it make your spine tingle? Absolutely. Time and again, his voice fills the space with a richness that is pure silken chocolate, even if it slightly reframes the character. It’s a bold take and a memorable one.
Equally affecting is Eilidh Todd as Heidi Hansen, who brings a beautifully grounded humanity to the role. This isn’t a glossy, polished portrayal of motherhood, it’s messy, tired, and fiercely loving in a way that feels recognisably real. Any small crack in her vocal was a refreshingly real moment of emotional delivery that I feel is often missing on a Broadway/West End stage that often feels overly polished in moments that require real feeling. In her key moments(So Big, So Small to name just one), you could feel the audience collectively leaning in; there’s a sincerity here that lingers long after the scene ends.
A welcome injection of levity comes from Connor (Harrison Owens), Jared (Scott Binnie), and Alana (Bethany Dunion), whose comedic timing proves a vital release in an otherwise emotionally heavy show. Their interactions have an easy, natural rhythm, bouncing off one another with the kind of confidence that suggests real trust within the cast. The result is genuine, audible delight from the audience, with more than a few surprised whoops of laughter cutting through the tension at just the right moments.
Emma Clarkson, as Connor’s sister Zoe, handles a particularly tricky role with poise. It’s a character that can easily tip into being unlikeable, but Clarkson skilfully navigates that fine line, presenting a layered portrayal that blends teenage frustration with a believable emotional vulnerability. She strikes the balance between guarded love interest and struggling young woman with sensitivity.
Staging-wise, Room 29 make effective use of the screen wall to establish location and mood, though the physical set occasionally feels like it’s working a bit too hard. Furniture comes and goes with such enthusiasm that you start to wonder if the ensemble are secretly competing in a backstage relay race. A bed appears, vanishes, reappears; it’s minimal but not always necessary. Simpler choices might have allowed the story and the performances to breathe more freely.
That said, the ensemble deserve credit for their energy and commitment. This is not an easy show to sustain, emotionally or technically, and they tackle it with a determination that carries the piece beautifully.
All in all, this is an earnest, emotionally intelligent production that understands the heart of Dear Evan Hansen. With a few technical tweaks, and perhaps a slightly calmer relationship with furniture, Room 29 have something really special on their hands. It’s not flawless, but it is heartfelt, and sometimes that’s exactly what you need – especially if you remembered to pack your tissues!
Catch the show at the Churchill Theatre, Edinburgh until Saturday 13th of June 2026. Tickets available here.