I first read R. J. Palacio’s “Wonder” in fourth grade, and it stuck with me: not just the plot, but the characters, the feelings and the sense that a story had quietly shifted the way I looked at other people. So, I approached the world-premiere musical adaptation with a lot of affection, along with a little skepticism. What I found was a big-hearted adaptation that aims for emotional clarity over subtlety and delivers a message as powerful as the book’s for the same middle-grade audience.
“Wonder,” which opened Dec. 17 at the American Repertory Theater (A.R.T.), follows Auggie Pullman (Garrett McNally), a boy with Treacher Collins syndrome, as he starts seventh grade after years of being homeschooled (a stage-friendly update from the book’s fifth-grade setting). The story is about the bravery of being seen, the daily challenges of classrooms and cafeterias and the difficult but vital work of acting with empathy. The novel has long been celebrated for offering young readers a compassionate lens on disability and difference, and the musical succeeds in translating that spirit to the stage.
The production’s greatest strength is its company. A.R.T.’s decision to cast Auggie with young actors who have facial differences deepens the show’s sincerity and puts the weight of the role on the actor’s emotional range. McNally meets that challenge with impressive poise, alternating between quiet strength and vulnerability. The other young actors are also outstanding, creating a world that feels recognizably like middle school: funny one moment, brutal the next and ever socially fraught. And the adult actors, including Brookline High School graduate Diego Cordova, who plays Auggie’s sister’s boyfriend Justin, are no less talented. Though the material is simplified, the performances are anything but.
That said, the musical’s approach is intentionally direct and rarely asks the audience to sit with moral uncertainty. When characters learn something, they tend to learn it clearly; the few who aren’t already in Auggie’s corner are brought around by a heartfelt conversation and an uplifting musical number. The single exception is a parent, written less as a complicated adult than a caricatured villain, who goes so far as to Photoshop Auggie out of a class photo. In short, when the show wants the audience to understand the lesson, it makes sure they do. For the middle-grade audience the story is written for, that clarity is a feature rather than a flaw. The repeated calls to be kind aren’t understated, and they’re not trying to be.
For older viewers, though, that same clarity can sometimes feel reductive. To be clear, it isn’t the message itself that feels underwhelming. Nobody is too old to be reminded to treat others with care and respect their dignity. In fact, our increasingly polarized world makes that insistence both urgent and necessary. To paraphrase one of the show’s catchier numbers: we may not be able to change what the world looks like, but we can change what we see.
Still, older viewers might be better served by confronting the personal costs of fighting injustice more squarely. “Wonder” makes kindness seem not only right, but easy. Some conflicts resolve too quickly; for the most part, characters readily acknowledge their own shortcomings and missteps, apologize without shame or ambivalence and elicit forgiveness without resentment. The score is charming and exceptionally well performed, but the songs tend to blur together in both style and purpose, papering over harsh consequences with upbeat harmonies and peppy dance routines.
Where the show finds deeper emotional texture is in the people orbiting Auggie. Via (Kaylin Hedges), Auggie’s older sister, brings a welcome complication: the ambivalence of loving her brother intensely and recognizing the depth of his needs while also wanting space to be seen herself and feeling guilty about her own ambitions and desires. Via’s friend Miranda (Paravi) envies the family’s close-knit support as her own parents’ marriage crumbles around her. The choice to externalize Auggie’s inner world through his imaginary companion Moon Boy (Nathan Salstone) is also smart and theatrically effective, as it translates the book’s internal monologue into a character the audience can see and hear.
In the end, “Wonder” succeeds on its own terms. It’s an engaging and heartwarming musical that’s built to be accessible and reassuring. If you’re looking for nuance, this isn’t the show for you. But if you’re seeking a genuinely uplifting message delivered by an unusually talented young cast, “Wonder” comes through. It’s an earnest reminder that kindness is a choice, and that choosing matters.
