Master the Art of Public Speaking

Addressing a room can be terrifying. No one knows that better than Evan Hansen, the skittish title character of Broadway's runaway hit Dear Evan Hansen. Luckily, Hansen is played by (the almost never skittish) Ben Platt.
This image may contain Ben Platt Coat Suit Clothing Overcoat Apparel Human Person Tuxedo and Man

Remember thinking, Man, I sure wish I'd bought Hamilton tickets when I still could? Well, listen this time: Buy your Dear Evan Hansen seats now. It's having a similar moment—and is already approaching a similar waiting list. Why? Because of star Ben Platt, the 23-year-old with a mostly under-the-radar career (Pitch Perfect, The Book of Mormon) who plays an anonymous, neurotic 17-year-old on an improbable rise to high school popularity in the wake of a misunderstanding that escalates out of control. And since public speaking, really, is a performance, you probably ought to listen to the performer we'd put our money on to win the Tony for Best Actor in a Musical (if we had an office Tony pool—and gambling were legal).

“I feel more nervous being a person in the world than I do when I’m onstage.”

Take a long look at yourself.
“Practice in front of the mirror. I want to know what I look like physically.”

Imagine the last time you nailed a speech. Then do it again.
“I note particular moments in shows where I'll like the way that a line landed. Before I go on the next night, I think back to what made those moments work and try to infuse the performance with that. You'll collect your ‘best of’ over time.”

Read the room (and the weather).
“The little things—the time of day, the number of kids—change the energy. When people come in and it's been beautiful out, they are so ready to laugh and to be energized. If it's been raining, they need a little extra surge of energy in the beginning.”

Always play it cool, even if your pants fall off.
“When I was in The Book of Mormon, my pants ripped completely from the top of my zipper to the back of my butt. I was basically wearing chaps. I just did the entire number with my junk in the air. The worst thing to do is stop the action and futz with yourself.”

Don't sweat the sweat.
“There's a real liberation in not hiding your sweat or your snot or your tears. It's all part of being human.” [When not on Broadway, maybe hide the snot.—ed.]