By Greggory Moore, Columnist
The plot is paint-by-numbers. Many of the best melodic and rhythmic ideas are repurposed to greater effect in Hamilton. A few songs get a bit redundant; a couple might qualify as filler.
That’s pretty much an exhaustive list of the shortcomings of In the Heights. If it isn’t a work of genius, it’s the product of an artist who was on his way there, in places peaking above the clouds and into that lofty realm. And on just about every level, Musical Theatre West enables that greatness to shine through.
It’s July 3, and a Washington Heights barrio is on the cusp of change. Three businesses at the neighborhood’s heart may relocate or close forever. Two long-simmering romances will finally boil over. One beloved community member will pass on — but not without leaving more than her memory behind.
The axis of this little universe is Usnavi (Reubén Carbajal) — drolly named after the first signage his parents saw after emigrating from the Dominican Republic — and his De La Vega Bodega is the hub. An In the Heights production without a good Usnavi is in big trouble. Musical Theatre West could never find a better talent than Carbajal to take on any role that Lin-Manuel Miranda writes for himself. Carbajal is funny, agile, sings great, raps with a seemingly effortless staccato smoothness, and gives us the feels. And when tasked with a little clunky exposition, we barely even notice.
But In the Heights is really an ensemble piece, so there are plenty of places for it to fray at the seams. No problem for this cast, though. Whether in full voice or character singing, each company member has whatever vocal flair they need, along with the acting chops to invest their character with enough idiosyncrasy to make them easily definable from the word go.
Moreover, everybody does well with Marissa Herrera’s vibrant choreography. Perhaps because over the last few years Musical Theatre West has staged more than its fair share of jukebox and film-based musicals, to me it has felt like shows with sweeping choreography have been few and far between (2023’s spectacular An American in Paris was a notable exception). But In the Heights brings it, not so much because the dance numbers are especially demanding (though there are flashes of wow), but because each number is so well conceived, to the point that often enough you don’t know where to look (in the best sense). That mindfulness extends to the blocking, as director Jesse J. Sanchez has his cast active at every moment in every piece of onstage real estate, even if all they’re doing is talking amongst themselves back in the bodega or the salon or the cab dispatch while such an extravaganza of song and dance is taking place out on the street that most audience members will never notice.
This little corner of Washington Heights is lovingly rendered by Anna Louizos. From the street and shops to the facades and fire escapes to the George Washington Bridge looming in the near distance, there’s nothing that’s not a pleasure to behold. Even the interiors are decked out with such care that I’m reminded of those stories about film sets where the art direction is so meticulous that the insides of desk drawers are not neglected despite the fact that they’ll never be onscreen.
From the outset, Paul Black’s lighting bathes the proceedings in misty sunrises and sweltering afternoons, before a riot of purple transforms the street to “The Club” without so much as a new piece of scenery being wheeled on. A flood of which commands our attention at stage right, then left, then to both sides simultaneously, until accents of yellow brings a crescendo before the dark cacophony of “Blackout” Exciting stuff.
Simply because they’re so predictably good, Musical Theatre West orchestras often get short shrift from me. They get special mention here simply because in many ways In the Heights is atypical musical territory for them — steady maraca and clave rhythms, soulfully sliding fretless electric bass — and they’re as good as ever.
The magic is the gestalt, the cumulative effect and the juxtaposition of individual elements. The mournful beauty of Atención > Alabenza is all the more sublime for coming on the heels of Carnival del Barrio and after the humor of It Won’t Be Long Now and the frenzy of 96,000. In partnership with Quiara Alegría Hudes (book), Miranda has plotted his stylistic shifts to perfection, just as Sanchez has connected all of the production’s nodes into a nearly perfect nexus.
The one and only glaring exception is the fireworks at the end of Act One, which are basically drab, static projections that might have been drawn by a 12-year-old with no particular artistic talent that fails to close the show’s first half with a the bang it deserves, completely out of keeping with the excellence of the mise en scène. Not sure what happened there.
It’s missed opportunity, yes, but a minor cavil overall in an outstanding piece of art whose immigrant/American story would be timely anytime, though never more so than this sad juncture in our history, when America has viciously turned on its Latino community and tried to make nightmares of so many dreams. Kudos to Musical Theatre West for clocking the value of revisiting this great show for a second time less than a decade after the first.
I get a bit misty whenever I am conscious of seeing artists enjoy the good fortune of getting to perform great material and fully meeting the moment with their talents. I was there with In the Heights a quarter of the way through Act One. Joyous.
In the Heights at Musical Theatre West
Times: Fri 7 p.m., Sat 2 p.m. & 7 p.m., Sun 1 p.m.; plus Thurs Apr 16 at 7 p.m. and Sun Apr 19 at 6 p.m. The show runs through April 26.
Cost: starting at $25 ($15 for student rush tix)
Details: 562-856-1999, musical.org
Venue: Carpenter Performing Arts Center, 6200 W. Atherton, Long Beach