There is so much heart and soul to be found in In The Heights, the Tony Award-winning musical now onstage at the Tennessee Performing Arts Center, that you cannot help but fall in love with every character in the piece, so vibrantly created by Lin-Manuel Miranda (who did the music and lyrics; with a book by Quiara Alegria Hudes). In The Heights gives its largely Anglo Nashville audiences a glimpse at three days in the lives of the people who live in a Latin neighborhood in New York's Washington Heights, telling a story of love, family, honor and integrity all woven together into a richly hued multi-cultural fabric.
In so doing, In The Heights delivers a tale that so eloquently expresses the pursuit of the American dream and which proves again what the various and disparate elements of our society can achieve together, reminding us all (well, most of us anyway) that we are immigrants to this country, all engaged in a common goal - given form and reality by our "families," whether they are by choice or by birth. It's a moving and heartfelt experience that takes you unawares, completely enveloping you in its warmth and sincerity.
Through Miranda's obvious and palpable connection to the onstage manifestation of his imagination and memory, you are instantly engaged and suddenly swept up into the sheer electricity of the events - some monumentally great, others small and trivial - that take place in front of you. Set to a musical score that features hip-hop, salsa, merengue and soul, In The Heights has been hailed by some as a reinvention of musical theater, as we've come to expect it, but I see it as much closer to its source. This is a reintepretation; certainly, the rhythms and melodies are different from what we've come to expect, but the score remains filled with showtunes.
And those showtunes do exactly what they should, allowing characters to more effectively express their feelings and emotions through song, their dreams and ideas soaring when set to music in a way they simply could not be possible if spoken. That's the beauty of musical theater - and the beauty of In The Heights is found in its ability to challenge preconceived notions, to perhaps introduce our imaginations to a heretofore undiscovered world and to open the theater doors wide to a new and colorful generation. It's exhilarating and inspiring and that is exactly what I want from my musical theater.
With a plot centering on the Dominican-American Usnavi (so named because one of his parents' first memories of coming to the U.S. was the sighting of U.S. Navy ships in New York harbor), who dreams of returning to the Dominican Republic. Usnavi (Joseph Morales, charming and immediately accessible in his confident, focused performance) is hard-working and devoted to his family, which includes the neighborhood matriarch, the kind and loving Abeula Claudia (played by the luminous Elise Santora, who is far younger than her onstage doppelganger) and his wonderfully appealing and often hilarious younger cousin, Sonny (Chris Chatman, who displays an unerring sense of timing and delivery). As they go about their business, ahead of the Fourth of July holiday, Usnavi and his family and friends speculate about who could possibly have bought a winning lottery ticket that is certain to change their lives.
Through Miranda's songs and Hudes' script, we are privy to the goings-on in the lives of the people in the neighborhood, who represent a veritable melting pot of Latin cultures. There are Dominicans and Puerto Ricans, Mexicans and Chileans, Cubans and Peruvians (not so unlike Nashville), all going about the day-to-day minutiae of life, working, paying bills, dreaming, playing. You're sure to see yourself, your family, your friends, your co-workers on that street outside Usnavi's bodega or in the chairs of Daniela's unisex beauty salon, or behind the dispatch desk of Rosario's car service. That, perhaps, is the true secret to the immense success of In The Heights: the story is universal in its scope and appeal.
Usnavi's extended family includes the Rosarios, who own the car service located across the street. Danny Bolero plays papi Kevin with a steely conviction (which belies his soft-heartedness) and scene-stealing Natalie Toro is cast as mami Camila, who personifies Latina culture in all its matriarchal glory. Their daughter Nina (the lovely voiced Genny Lis Padilla, whose performance of "Everything I Know" will have you reaching for a handkerchief), in whom all the hopes and dreams of achieving the American dream is pinned, is home from a troubled first year at Stanford, rocking her family's seemingly rock-solid foundation.
