From the moment Usnavi (Hamilton‘s Anthony Ramos) emerges onto his block in the opening moment of Jon M. Chu’s excellent movie adaptation of the musical In The Heights, it’s clear to audiences that they are in for something very special. Unsavi walks over the hot cement sidewalk on a steaming summer day when his foot stops over a drain cover. His leg doubles back and suddenly, the drain cover is a turntable, and our musical introduction to the city has begun.
It’s a cliché to note that NYC is “a character” in a film, but Chu’s ability to infuse so many moments in In The Heights with the spirit of the city, a place where there is adventure and excitement lurking around every corner — here, metaphor made nearly literal — is downright thrilling. It would be special to watch in any year, but as a return to theaters for so many movie fans after 14 long months away, it’s enough to make some people, including this critic, downright giddy.
The story follows Usnavi, a young man in Washington Heights who is telling some neighborhood kids on a faraway island a story about how the block used to be and his dreams and fears for the future of this gentrifying neighborhood. Usnavi owns a corner bodega and is in love with Vanessa (Melissa Barrera), a young woman down the street who works in a salon but dreams of becoming a fashion designer. There’s also Benny (Corey Hawkins, unbelievably charming), Usnavi’s friend who works at a taxi dispatch, as well as the woman he is into, Nina (Leslie Grace), who went away to college and is now returning home with a secret and disappointments.
The entire tale takes place over a few hot summer days and mostly focuses in on the burning, unvoiced dreams of the characters. The plot is straightforward, though theater fans will be interested to know it has changed a bit from the 2009 Tony-winning Broadway production written by Quiara Alegría Hudes and Lin-Manuel Miranda (who appears here in a fun cameo). This version, with screenplay by Hudes, deals directly and thoughtfully with such resonant topics as DACA. Hamilton fans will also note many familiar Miranda themes that he continues to wrestle with in his work: family and legacy and the struggles of immigrants and explorations of greatness. But for all the serious and important topics, the biggest takeaway is that it’s just a really exuberant time.
“One exciting aspect of the whole experience is Chu’s vision on what a movie-musical can be”
One exciting aspect of the whole experience is Chu’s vision on what a movie musical can be. Chu, who had a background directing song-and-dance extravaganzas like the Step Up sequels and is signed to helm the long-in-the-works Wicked movie, inherently understands that musicals are magical, no matter how “small” and realistic the plot. A musical about the dreams we hold in our hearts, particularly, is aching to explode onscreen in Technicolor wonder defying the laws of physics and gravity, to do via CGI what can’t be done in a Broadway theater. What a treat that Chu’s brilliant imagination is matched here by a strong budget and joyful, enthusiastic performers. When two characters are in love, they dance on the side of a building! When a man gesticulates, we see the drawing he’s imagining literally appear onscreen! When the women at the hair salon begin to gossip, the Styrofoam wig heads move about, leaning in for the latest delicious details!
Perhaps nowhere is that ever-present spark more memorable than in one of the biggest production numbers in the show, “96,000,” about the nearly hundred-thousand dollar lotto prize that pushes the whole neighborhood to imagine what they would do with such a life-changing sum of money. Set at a public pool, the moment is a technical feat of underwater shots, dozens if not hundreds of dancers in a perfect colorful combustion of costumes and rapping and water noodles. It’s an extravaganza of joy, and demands to be seen on the biggest screen one can find.
But for all the bombast, the quiet moments — particularly with Claudia (an excellent Olga Merediz, reprising her Tony-nominated Broadway turn), a grandmother figure to the neighborhood — still hit. It is her role that may prompt people to turn inward, recognizing in her their families’ deferred dreams and the sacrifices one makes for the people they love. She may not be your family, but family is all you’ll be thinking about while the credits roll.
Perhaps the greatest compliment one can note is that by the sticky-sweet end, this cast of characters feel like a collection of your buddies. After an awful year, what a thrill to be among friends.