I didn’t know much about the Broadway musical “Dear Evan Hansen” save for the fact that the show had won multiple Tony Awards in 2017, including Best Musical, Best Original Score (Benj Pasek and Justin Paul), Best Book of a Musical (Steven Levensen), and Best Performance by a Leading Actor (Ben Platt).

Following the cascade of accolades, “Evan” ran for nearly six years, drawing cheering audiences and making Platt (“Picture Perfect,” “Theater Camp” and the Netflix series “The Politician”) a bonafide star.

That said, I still had no clue what the musical story was about, so I read a few blurbs before the curtain rose last week at the Forestburgh Playhouse (FBP), where the show is playing through July 26 to packed houses, and deservedly so.

I learned that the storyline centers on life, death and how they affect the angst-ridden teenage title character and those in his sphere, including his high school classmates, his mother, an absentee father and his secret, unrequited love interest.

As a general rule, it is not my practice to give away major plot points, but since this “groundbreaking Broadway phenomenon” centers on what one might consider extremely sensitive material, I’ll share this much, culled from the FBP website.

“‘Dear Evan Hansen’ is a deeply moving and profoundly human story about life and the way we connect. When a high school student’s private letter is mistakenly made public, a tangled web of misunderstanding transforms into a powerful exploration of belonging, truth and the courage to be yourself.”

Arriving early, I discovered that throughout the run of “Dear Evan Hansen,” representatives from the National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) will be on hand at the playhouse, providing resources and “helping to foster meaningful conversations about mental health, connection and hope.”

Armed with that information, I took my seat, my always well behaved theatre-going dog curled up for a nap, and a hush fell over the crowd.

As directed with thoughtfulness and a deep understanding of the sensitive material by the gifted Roque Berlanga, the audience and I were instantly transported to Evan Hansen’s world, beautifully brought to life thanks to scenic designer Brian Seckfort, and enhanced by stunning dramatic lighting and inspired projection design by the dynamic duo of Wheeler Moon and Brian Staton, respectively. Additionally, music director Matthew Nassida deftly guides his cast through the vocal gymnastics of a complicated, beautiful score, with nice touches added by costumer Kyle Artone and sound designer Tony Taylor.

Technical aspects aside, it is the supremely talented cast that breathes beautiful musical life into this thought-provoking, truly original story as “Evan convinces himself that he’s doing the right thing, until everything starts to go wrong.”

Happily, each and every actor is a standout, capturing the zeitgeist of Evan Hansen’s generation in a way that evoked a visceral response in me and those around me, and one that continues to haunt.

As Evan’s harried, overworked mom Heidi, Stacie Bono delivers a layered, deeply moving performance that subtly informs the audience about the trials and tribulations involved with raising a teenager on her own—a child who has emotional issues and is struggling to fit in, while under a psychiatrist’s watchful eye. Bono’s voice is gorgeous and her performance is touching and memorable.

As the object of Evan’s secret affection, Mary Surette’s interpretation of the emotionally conflicted Zoe Murphy is also multi-layered. Torn between what she believes to be a hurtful truth and the fabrications invented by Evan, Surette matures before our eyes, blossoming before faltering, unsure of what is reality and what is make-believe. While plaintively singing her heart out over the confusing loss of her brother, Zoe is plagued by his untimely death.

Alternating between false bravado and deep-seated pathos, Griffin Small inhabits the character of Zoe’s brother Connor Murphy with charm and humor, tinged with despair, exposing the character’s own hidden angst, driving the story from the get-go, as he pops in and out of Evan’s psyche, even from beyond the grave. Small’s vocals are spot-on, and his performance as the misunderstood high school bully is memorable.

Dynamic performers and playhouse favorites, vocal powerhouse Christina Stoup and rock-solid actor Marc Donavan portray Connor and Zoe’s parents, tasked with conveying the grief over losing their troubled son while being led astray by Evan into his make-believe world, one in which their psychologically disturbed child was someone they come to believe they did not know. Both Stroup and Donovan deliver emotionally driven performances, and both seasoned actors have moments to shine as they express themselves both musically and through the spoken word.

As mentioned, there is humor laced throughout, a device often used in the theatre to break the tension—and the appealing Spencer Orton, as Evan’s cousin Jared, fully understands the assignment. Brash, overly confident and full of himself, Jared—who is in on the secret—also matures along with the others as they attempt to navigate Evan’s increasingly hard-to-believe fantasy ostensibly designed to help Connor’s family heal, but a fabrication that ultimately tears them apart.

Along with Orton, the delightful Jocylon Evans also adds a lighter touch as Alana Beck, an overachiever who unwittingly steers Evan toward making even more unwise decisions. She gets carried away with herself, her college-bound ambitions and a mildly neurotic desire to fit into a world that accepts both her and Evan, as his made-up stories continue to grow and take on a life of their own.

As the story unfolds with Evan’s emotionally driven thoughts that are both truthful and fictitious, the mentally conflicted teenager’s doctor-ordered letters to himself scroll out in the form of projections that the audience can read as the words play across the stage.

“Dear Evan Hansen,” the protagonist writes for all of us to see, “nobody understands me. What’s worse,” he continues, “nobody wants to try. You’re the best friend I have… everybody else has a family. I just have parents. Everybody else has a home. I just have a house. Turns out, this wasn’t an amazing day after all…” he writes, “because why would it be?”

Just over 18 years old and with a mature-beyond-his-years grasp of the thought-provoking, emotionally laden material, Jackson Chase, as the title character, drives this production with a cerebral subtlety and nuance that will surely make him a star in his own right, just as this role did for Ben Platt in the original Broadway production.

The musical score of “Dear Evan Hansen” is beautiful, complex and lyrical, and as performed by the entire cast, quite special. Making it even more so is Chase, who commands every moment that he is on stage. His vocal range is astounding, lilting, lush and gorgeous, continually surprising, complex and completely unexpected, and his acting skills are matched in scope.

Dear Evan Hansen: this production is visually, stylistically and vocally just plain wow, and you and your fellow actors are simply amazing. This production is theatre at its best and the Forestburgh Playhouse once again lives up to its reputation of being dubbed “the miracle of the forest.” Bring tissues. You can thank me later.

For tickets and more info, visit www.fbplayhouse.org or call 845/794-2005. Support local theatre throughout the Upper Delaware River region. You’ll be glad that you did.

Ask the Google: Question: “What the heck does ‘zeitgeist’ mean?”

Answer: “The defining spirit or mood of a particular period of history, as in ‘the musical story captured the zeitgeist of his high school years.’”