In the Heights is a good time. Set in the predominantly Dominican, Upper Manhattan neighborhood of Washington Heights, the film somehow serves two masters well. Not only does it bake social, cultural, and community issues deep into its narrative, it also delivers electrifying, immensely entertaining musical numbers. It’s an adaptation of Lin-Manuel Miranda’s 2008 Tony-winning Broadway hit. Miranda is a household name now, and even the most musically-ignorant will recognize the seeds of Miranda’s Hamilton style in the music and lyrics of In the Heights. (The Onion argues this could be a good thing).
The parallels don’t stop there. Both works have obvious thematic ties, and the existential desire to fulfill ambitious dreams and leave an impactful legacy—to “build something that’s gonna outlive me.” The youthful central cast of In the Heights sells that longing, and the daily struggles and interpersonal drama that is the central thrust of the plot. Led by a talented quartet of Anthony Ramos, Leslie Grace, Corey Hawkins, and Melissa Barrera, the cast is responsible for the movie’s vibrance, energy, and watchability. The earnestness of Ramos and Grace in particular overcome the sometimes-convoluted romantic tension of the story. Even when the story drifts too far into melodrama (counterpoint: this is, after all, a musical), we never disconnect from the relatable emotions driving each of the characters. It also helps that the movie prioritizes its most interesting conflicts, like Leslie Grace’s Nina struggling to reconcile her father’s dreams with her own, her guilt over his many sacrifices, and the societal pressure of failing to be a trailblazer for her community.
Beyond the performances, the direction of In the Heights justifies its transition to the big screen. Director Jon M. Chu (Crazy Rich Asians) confidently uses the camera to compliment and bolster the sequences. Some musical adaptations stumble in not employing more movement and fluidity during musical numbers; when you pair a bombastic or propulsive sequence with static or flat shots, the result can be in a frustrating schizophrenia of conflicting visuals and sound. Chu easily sidesteps those problems. He demonstrates a grasp of the physical space and locations of each dance number, using interesting shot composition, framing, and movement to capture the energy and momentum of each sequence. A few standout numbers especially—almost cheekily—take advantage of using film as their medium of expression. These sequences are the selling point for experiencing this in a theater versus streaming at home on HBO Max.
As with any adaptation, changes and modifications have been made to the original stage production. Even with trimming the original show, the film does run a bit longer than necessary. Some of the additions feel a little out of place. There is an added subplot about DREAMers, which aligns perfectly with the thematic goals of In the Heights, but is not gracefully interwoven into the story and feels noticeably tacked-on. It’s not a fatal flaw—the real-world weight of the issue and the talented cast supply the dramatic narrative stakes when the subplot becomes more prominent. The movie is ambitious in all it wants to say, but juggling all those ideas sometimes stalls the forward momentum of the story.
Reports of In the Heights underperforming at the box office surprisingly misunderstand the cinematic landscape for 21st century musicals that aren’t based on a comic book. Concerns over the political message of the story also misunderstand how no story can escape making a political statement. None of this should stop you from building In the Heights into your weekend plans. The movie is hopeful to a fault, distilling an important message about community, heritage, and dreaming for a better life—and loudly affirms that message through vibrant dance numbers. Is there a better way to spend a summer evening?
In the Heights is currently in theaters and available to stream on HBO Max. It runs 143 minutes and is rated PG-13 for some language and suggestive references.