He doesn't say much. Honestly, for a character who basically drives every single plot point in a Tony-winning musical, Connor Murphy is barely on screen. We see him for maybe five minutes as a "real" person before he’s gone. Yet, his ghost—or rather, the version of him Evan Hansen invents—hangs over the entire story like a heavy fog.
In the world of Dear Evan Hansen, Connor Murphy is the catalyst. He’s the "troubled kid." The "bully." The "drug user." But if you actually look at the details tucked into the script and the 2018 novel, he’s a lot more than just a plot device used to make Evan feel better about himself.
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The Real Connor vs. The Orchard Version
Most people remember the "Sincerely, Me" version of Connor. You know the one—the fun, dancing, slightly sarcastic ghost who helps Evan and Jared fake a bunch of emails. But that’s not Connor. That’s Evan’s imagination.
The real Connor Murphy was deeply isolated. We get hints of this early on when his mother, Cynthia, mentions he wasn't invited to a single bar mitzvah in middle school. Think about that for a second. An entire year of classmates celebrating, and he sat at home every single time. It's those small, factual nuggets that explain why he was so quick to snap.
When he shoves Evan in the hallway or screams about the letter involving his sister, Zoe, it’s not just "angst." It’s a defense mechanism. In the book, we actually get chapters from Connor’s perspective (even after he’s passed, which is a bit of a trip), and it becomes clear he was desperate for a connection he didn't know how to ask for. He even signs Evan’s cast with a dry, "Now we can both pretend we have friends."
It’s the only genuine moment they ever share. And it’s heartbreaking because, by the next scene, he’s gone.
Why Mike Faist’s Performance Changed Everything
We have to talk about Mike Faist. He originated the role on Broadway, and his portrayal is why the character became a cult icon. Faist didn't play him as a villain. He played him as a raw nerve.
- The Physicality: Faist had this slouch. He looked like he was trying to fold into himself to disappear.
- The Nuance: He brought a specific kind of "checked-out" energy that made the audience lean in.
- The Tony Nod: He earned a Tony nomination for Featured Actor in a Musical because he made a massive impact with very little stage time.
Later, in the 2021 film, Colton Ryan took over. Ryan actually played Connor as an understudy on Broadway too, so he knew the bones of the character. The movie tried to "fix" the lack of Connor by adding a new song, "A Little Closer," which gave him a bit of a legacy beyond Evan’s lies. It’s a nice touch, but some fans argue it softened the edges of a character who was supposed to be difficult to love.
The "Monster" and the "Saint"
One of the most complex parts of Dear Evan Hansen is how the Murphy family reacts to Connor's death. Zoe, his sister, refuses to pretend he was a hero. She calls him a "monster" who threw a printer at a teacher and tried to break down her door.
This is where the show gets messy and real.
Cynthia Murphy is so desperate to believe her son was "good" that she clings to Evan’s fake emails. She wants a version of Connor that didn't exist. Meanwhile, Larry Murphy, the dad, struggles with the fact that he tried to bond with his son—specifically through things like "Breaking in a Glove"—and failed miserably.
The "The Connor Project" is essentially a way for the world to mourn a person they didn't actually know. It’s a commentary on how we treat tragedy on social media. We turn people into symbols because symbols are easier to deal with than complicated, struggling humans.
What Most People Get Wrong About the Ending
There's a misconception that the story "forgives" everyone. It doesn't.
When the truth finally breaks, the Murphys are devastated all over again. They didn't just lose their son; they lost the "good" version of him they’d finally started to believe in. But there is a silver lining that usually gets missed: the orchard.
In the final scene, Evan meets Zoe at the apple orchard they've finally revitalized in Connor's name. It’s the first time any of them are standing in a place that is real. Evan isn't lying anymore. Zoe isn't angry anymore. They are just there, in the quiet.
The actionable insight here is pretty simple but hard to do: don't wait for a tragedy to look for the person behind the "troubled" label.
If you're a fan of the show or just getting into the fandom, here is how you can actually engage with the character's legacy in a way that matters:
- Read the Novel: Val Emmich, along with the original creators Pasek, Paul, and Levenson, wrote a book that gives Connor a literal voice. If you felt the musical left him too thin, the book fixes that.
- Look at the Mental Health Resources: The show partnered with groups like the Child Mind Institute and the JED Foundation. They use Connor’s story as a way to talk about real-life intervention.
- Separate the Actor from the Role: It’s easy to get caught up in "Ghost Connor" being funny, but remember the "Real Connor" was a kid who fell through the cracks of a system that didn't know how to catch him.
Connor Murphy isn't a hero, and he isn't a villain. He’s a reminder that everyone is fighting a battle you can't see on their Instagram feed. Sometimes, the most important thing you can do is just be the person who actually listens before the story ends.