Dear Evan Hansen

Dear Evan Hansen ½

DEAR EVAN HANSEN / F

"We're all grieving in our own way."

I typed out twenty different suicide notes and I've reached the conclusion that the English language does not contain enough words to remotely capture the ?!@$?!?!$ of experiencing every emotion on the human spectrum simultaneously. This is the nightmare fuel™ equivalent of watching a sociopath (or school shooter) - with the face of The Pale Lady, from Scary Stories To Tell In The Dark, horrifically & disastrously morphed onto the body of the Slender Man - terrorize a grief-stricken family in order to fuck the dead guy's sister (this is one plot twist away from being the greatest horror thriller ever conceived, but it's the story of a pedophile as it is). Moreover, it should be noted that the dead guy descended into madness and immediately killed himself after seeing Ben Platt's face for the first time ("the face" will consume you), followed by Ben Platt - like an innate mental asylum patient - entering a euphoric state at the first chance of puppeteering the public image of the dead guy to both himself and to his family. This feels illegal to see, for more than ten reasons. I'm warning you now, because I care about human life, that you will regrettably experience untold suffering - prior to enduring the transcendental rhapsody of the final girl in Martyrs. As a reminder to all descendants of God's children:

All theatre kids are going to Hell. Everyone on Broadway is going to Hell. They are all mentally ill. I will now go pray The Rosary 100 times.


I'll start:

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name; thy kingdom come; thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.

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