When I last wrote about Ben Platt, I revealed a few things about myself in regards to his career. As someone who personally loves Dear Evan Hansen, I have developed an affection for what he can achieve as a vocalist, managing to have this great emotional range that can go high into the stratosphere, or low into the deep, heartbreaking angst. While he’s been working his way up for close to a decade, it feels like things have only begun to get interesting for him.
Which makes it disappointing to admit that I wasn’t as won over by “Sing to Me Instead” as I had wanted. Maybe I was bringing too much Dear Evan Hansen expectations to the table, but it felt like your typical bland balladeer album, where everything was personal and hit all of those familiar notes. I realize in hindsight that I could’ve done with more research, as half of the album seems far more resonant after watching Ben Platt: Live from Radio City Music Hall (2020). Then again, I believed that there would be something in his live performances that is missing in a recording studio. I saw it on old YouTube videos and I’m excited to say that it carries over this time around.
This isn’t a greatest hits collection. Despite being a star whose work on Broadway brought critically acclaimed turns in The Book of Mormon and Dear Evan Hansen, or his memorable supporting role in Pitch Perfect (2012), this is designed as a moment for him to come out proverbially.
For the first time, he was walking out onto a stage and not playing a character. You may have known him as Elder Cunningham or Evan Hansen, but they weren’t present throughout the night. This was Ben Platt at the start of a new leg of his career, and you can tell how thrilled he was to be in this phase. There were no restrictions from the script. If he wanted to run off stage during the breakdown (which he did) to go to the bathroom, he can. This is his show and we’re all here to watch what marvels he’s capable of pulling off.
I think that the most apparent part of this show for me was how much better the songs felt from a live perspective. Almost every note is one that we’ve heard on “Sing to Me Instead,” but there is something to seeing Platt take to the stage in a flamboyant flower-designed shirt and bell-bottomed pants pulled well over his waist. He was about to get personal, letting you know what every song he’s recorded has meant to him. There’s friendly banter in between, and you ultimately come to love him.
For a performer working from a limited body of work, he makes the 80-minute adventure into a dense look into his psyche. Publically, most people knew little about who Platt was outside of being the son of Marc Platt (producer of such Broadway hits like Wicked). That was about to change, as he allows himself to be the most transparent he has ever been. Even in candid interviews, he has never felt as electric and eager to please like this.
“Sing to Me Instead” was an album that took a look at what it meant to be in your 20’s and experiencing love. If the album has any faults, it’s that his universal stories have this feeling of being too familiar and conventional. While Platt sings them to perfection, he does little to separate himself from the competition. You get the shy goofy kid, awkwardly navigating this world and longing for that connection. But without a bigger context, it’s not the most groundbreaking thing he’s ever done.
Onstage, you suddenly see Platt in a more interesting light. It isn’t just that his wardrobe has an eye-catching design. It’s that those harmonies suddenly become more exciting as he wanders the stage, belting them as the backing band accompanies him. The lights are timed to his every movement and there’s a spectacle to the show that is humble in the design, but effective in how the beats feel like his own deeper psyche come to life.
This is meticulously designed in such a way that you feel like it’s a look into Platt as a young child. There’s no denying that he’s dreamed of having his own sold-out concert (let alone at Radio City Music Hall), imagining every last thing that he would do. He has been preparing for this moment and you can find his bright eyes looking at the ceiling, imagining those cheers, waiting for him to have that moment where his dream comes true. Given that he’s still young and has little to work with, it’s amazing that he never allows for a second of the show to feel dull. Even when he’s not on stage, you’re too lost in the moment to care.
There is a point where the music becomes autobiographical, making the world finally understand who he is. He isn’t Evan Hansen, at least not in totally direct ways. He is this trained professional who practices every small dance move and stage banter. Everything about him feels meticulous, but you’re never aware of how much work he’s clearly put into making you have a good time. This is the story of his life up to this point, and one could argue that while there’s little about this that is otherwise abstract, it’s the story of a performer at its clearest. You understand why he’s there, why he chose the songs in this order. One can argue that these aren’t the greatest songs ever put to the stage, but you can’t deny that Platt has the power to convince you otherwise once the piano kicks in.
The moments that sell the show are in-between when he’s preparing himself for the next song. While the cameras do a great job of reflecting the enthusiastic crowd, singing along from their seats, they feel more alive when it’s focused on Platt, wiping away sweat and drinking water as he opens himself up more. There is something that clearly sounds freeing about sharing these stories, reflecting how personal his solo career can become down the line. For now, it’s the rawest nerve, having to encapsulate so much time in his life that we get stories ranging from his early childhood to significant deaths in his life.
One of the most noteworthy moments came early into the show when he discussed visiting Tel Aviv, Israel with for a Jewish field trip. At some point a comment is made that sounds like it’s meant to be derogatory to his sexuality. The leader calls out the presumed homophobe, though Platt is relieved to suggest that it was all a misunderstanding. When he calls his parents later, he recalls them on the other end expressing how annoyed they are that Platt is calling them about such a minuscule moment.
With this moment, Platt suggests that he’s always felt comfortable with his sexuality, and the fact that everyone else was just as accepting creates a heartwarming round of applause. This is a man whose friends were largely women, who told him to follow his dreams and be kind to others. He is someone who seems genuine in every moment while on stage, never wanting to ruin a moment with sarcasm or snide remarks. He is loving, and these songs reveal the lessons he learned in becoming a better person. In fact the only thing he openly dislikes is cats, which whether in jest or seriousness is a bit alarming.
With exception to two covers (Brandi Carlile’s “The Joke” and Elton John’s “Take Me to the Pilot”), this set is as personal as things get. The first half deals with something more personal, reflective of his personal romances. Songs like “Honest Man” and “Temporary Love” have a bravado to them that immediately draw you in. You’re enthralled as the opening number “Bad Habit” slices in footage of him walking to the stage as the song plays. You’re curious about what will happen. As the crowd cheers, you begin to understand this is a night about the cult of Ben Platt, where these people clearly know every word.
When “Share Your Address” kicks on (one of the few upbeat numbers), the crowd knows to stand up and begin dancing wildly. This is the triumphant ode to Platt’s goofball charm. He may be singing about some strange things, like hanging out with his boyfriend’s mom, but you buy into his earnestness. He’s so free, and the way that he gets the audience to clap along is a sign of how much control he has over the night. This is the song where he runs offstage to go to the bathroom. You think it’s a costume change, but his honesty when he walks back out shows just how much he wants to tear down walls. “Take Me to the Pilot” is another crowd-pleaser, finding him doing cheeky choreography with the back-up singers, proving that he could do a whole show of covers if he wanted and make it sizzle.
If I’m being honest, one of the few songs that has grown for me since first listening to the album was “In Case You Don’t Live Forever.” It’s also the moment that best captures his ethos as a performer. Throughout the show he highlights small examples of love and acceptance improving his life. Here he goes into detail about a loved one whom he wished that he got to know better before their death. They were both gay men, but because of where Platt was in his life, he wasn’t able to express himself to his fullest potential. The title is in reference to the idea that we need to share our sentiments of love with each other “In Case You Don’t Live Forever.”
Considering that the show’s penultimate track “Older” is another story about growing old and wishing to change things, you can sense that Platt is well aware of his mortality, sentimental to his past while desiring to improve the audience’s personal lives.
For what it’s worth, your affection to Ben Platt as a person will determine how much this special lands for you. This is one so rooted in exploring his personal identity that you almost need to like Dear Evan Hansen by proxy. It’s not informative of any aspect of the show, but both works’ willingness to be open about emotion reflects a certain archetype that can be considered too twee or clamoring to others. For those willing to go with the earnest adult contemporary pop sound, it’s a solid night of watching a star at the beginning of his career.
In all honesty, this is a special that feels like it may play better in hindsight. I’m talking about looking back at it in a decade, when Platt is so much more established (and halfway through filming Merrily We Roll Along), and see where he began. This will seem simple and innocent, and the whole thing will play as a precious time capsule of when he was young and full of exuberance. Right now it’s fun, but I am so eager to see where his career goes from here if he will become one of those Broadway sensations who transcends his medium. I think that he will, but how far will be the ultimate question.
Live from Radio City Music Hall is a great experience that I thoroughly enjoyed and think that proves the versatility of Platt. Whereas I still think his music isn’t at its best on a record, I get the sense that he’ll open up live (both literally and figuratively), becoming more confident and stretching his potential. While I’m sad to not hear “For Forever” as an encore (or some equivalent), I understand what he’s going for with this one. He has torn away from the artifice and has revealed his true identity. That alone adds an endearing subtext to the show, making it special in his larger career.
And if that’s not enough, just know that according to Wikipedia, there are dozens of memorable faces in the audience, including: the Platt family, Benj Pasek & Justin Paul & Steven Levenson (the core team behind Dear Evan Hansen), as well as Beanie Feldstein, Ryan Murphy, Anna Kendrick, Richard E. Grant, and many more. I don’t know if you’ll see them all, but if you find yourself thinking that you see one, odds are that you did.
To see them all having a good time, laughing, and smiling is to reflect just how much he’s already welcomed. Now we wait in anticipation of what he does next when he sells out a bigger venue in three or four albums with a few more Tony-nominated performances to his credit. You know that it’s going to happen, so why not get on board for the party now?
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