In the Heights

 

Fans will hear and see musical and narrative similarities between Lin-Manuel Miranda's "Hamilton" and his earlier Tony-winning work "In the Heights," both now delivered as motion pictures (though Hamilton was a filmed stage production and In the Heights fills city streets).

Both shows blend musical genres (hip-hop, Latin and more conventional theatrical structures) and weave together stories that explore how families (broadly defined) fight for self-identity and validation, albeit against vastly different backdrops.

Hamilton's sweep was grander -- America's liberation from Britain -- and In the Heights covers more intimate ground, the indomitability of the human spirit, represented here by immigrants and Dreamers from the Caribbean living in the Washington Heights neighborhood of Manhattan. Audiences will likely be moved to laughter and tears by these denizens and their dicey dilemmas.

Director Jon M. Chu's color palette is saturated; reds, greens, blues and yellows run down the sides of the screen (figuratively speaking) and wash over the audience, as his camera trots along with and flies above the film's wonderfully winning troupe of principals (Anthony Ramos, Corey Hawkins, Leslie Grace, Melissa Barrera and Gregory Diaz IV) and scores of dancers over the course of three steaming summer days in New York, before a citywide blackout.

The film's pacing is vigorous and, like Hamilton, the score is nearly through-sung; long passages have nearly no spoken dialogue. Also, like opera, the songs are heavily expositive, bearing the characters' own stories (Breathe, Paciencia y Fe), rousing anthems for community and solidarity (In the Heights, Alabanza, Carnaval del Barrio) and bawdy romps (No Me Diga).

In the Heights is an unquestionable cinematic achievement, which, as I shared with my screening partner today, will likely sweep during award season. It's biggest competition will no doubt be Steven Spielberg's West Side Story, scheduled to open during the winter holidays.