When audiences sat down in their seats at Broadway’s Richard Rodgers Theatre in the spring of 2008, many were not quite ready for the electrically-charged piece of musical theatre they were about to witness. The then relatively unknown team of Lin-Manuel Miranda (music and lyrics) and Quiara Alegria Hudes (book) delivered several jolts of adrenaline into the arm of the American musical, infusing the more traditional form of this theatrical storytelling with the contemporary sounds of hip-hop and rap, as well as crafting a bilingual score (English and Spanish) of poignancy and potency. Director Thomas Kail staged the musical with a palpable urgency and an emotional thrust that propelled the show through its climax, and choreographer Andy Blankenbuehler provided movement that seemed to defy gravity and lift the show off the stage floor and into the ether. The musical I am referring to is of course In the Heights which has made its transition from the stage to screen some thirteen-years since it’s Broadway berth, under the direction of Jon M. Chu (Crazy Rich Asians).

In the Heights is set in the community of Washington Heights (at the northern most point of Manhattan). The story centers around Usnavi de la Vega (a role originated onstage by Miranda), a bodega owner with a dream of moving to the Dominican Republic, and the community of locals who reside in and around his establishment. For many of them it is a daily struggle to make ends meet, to keep their businesses afloat in the face of gentrification, navigate the crime in the community, and to find love in a world that often presents more problems than solutions. And yet, there is a spirit throughout the musical that never lets is become weighed-down by these life challenges. Instead, the story is buoyed by the heart, humor, hope and humanity of relatable characters who, in many ways, remind one of the parade of colorful, loveable denizens of Anatevka in that other musical theatre classic Fiddler on the Roof. In the Heights gives us a community, makes sure we know them well, and ensures that we root for them. That was the chief charm to behold in the original stage production and the essential ingredient for an effective film treatment of the piece.

Transitioning In the Heights from the stage to the screen was always going to be a challenge (this is not an easy journey for any stage musical), particularly because of how inherently theatrical this musical is. There is something about feeling intimately acquainted with these characters in person (fourth wall removed) that invites the audience into the community of Washington Heights and makes them a part of the show. Would that connection be lost on the big screen? Would audiences respond to In the Heights in a movie theatre (or on HBO Max) and feel that electrical charge (with those visceral twitches and tingles) that they experienced through that in-person reciprocity enjoyed between live-performers and live-audience? I am here to report that In the Heights on screen is the best possible case for this musical’s trek from Broadway to the cinema, a film musical that honors the stage production while giving this incarnation the room to breathe and take on a life of its own.

Actor Anthony Ramos plays Usnavi, and he must be credited for having the magnetic personality, the singing and acting chops, and that something extra required (is it sex appeal or his touch of goofy awkwardness?) to hold audiences captively in his charms for the film’s duration. He stands at the center of In the Heights as both the narrator and its beating heart. He is given winning support by Leslie Grace as the bright college dropout Nina Rosario who is in love with the outgoing car dispatcher Benny, played with a cocksure swagger by Corey Hawkins. Usnavi’s love interest Vanessa, an aspiring fashion designer, is given pluck and pathos by Melissa Barrera. Olga Merediz as Abuela Claudia, Usnavi’s Cuban surrogate mother, brings a gentle touch and a tangible maternal warmth to the story. Daphne Rubin-Vega, Gregory Diaz IV, Jimmy Smits, Stephanie Beatriz, Dascha Polanco, Marc Anthony, and Lin-Manuel Miranda round out the balance of the supporting cast, each enjoying their well-earned moments in the spotlight.

Choreographer Christopher Scott (So You Think You Can Dance) has proven that he has a knack for joyous and creative screen choreography, particularly with his delightfully cornball dances in the Disney’s Teen Beach Movie films. With In the Heights he ups the stakes, working in tandem with Director Jon M. Chu to create arresting visuals of movement. Though it occasionally feels as though he is taking a page out of classic Hollywood choreographer Busby Berkeley’s playbook, Scott’s work here is often showstopping and, on occasion, inventively breathtaking. This is especially evident in a mind-blowing, vertigo-inducing dance up the side of a building as the city turns dreamlike on a right angle (think the film Inception), with Nina and Benny romantically hurdling fire escapes to the song “When the Sun Goes Down.” This moment will go down in history as one of those great film musical dances, like Fred Astaire dancing on the ceiling in Royal Wedding or Michael Kidd’s athletic barn raising choreography in Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. It’s that special and, frankly, unexpected considering the lack of visual poetry in recent stage to screen musical adaptations.

Quiara Alegría Hudes has streamlined her book of the stage play while penning the screenplay for In the Heights, economically pairing down the number of characters and stories to focus in on the most compelling of the lot. Though Lin-Manuel Miranda’s score shines just as brightly as it always has (maybe even more so here), Hudes deserves her share of the praise for equally contributing to these characters’ voices. When the songs stop, the storytelling does not. The distinct dreams and fears of these people continue to radiate, compel, and connect with our own dreams and fears. It’s all instantly relatable.

It is, however, Jon M. Chu’s film and he has taken a simple (if delightful) musical story and rethought it as an urban fairytale, employing an expressionistic approach to the material, finding the possibility for magic in the most startling places. Whether it’s a wall of wigs in a beauty salon doing hair choreography during the gossipy “No Me Diga” or cartoon drawings appearing in the air as Usnavi and friends imagine how they’d spend $96,000 if they won the lottery, the wizardry feels in keeping with the film’s spirit. "Paciencia y Fe" is a haunting imagining of Abuela’s journey to death via subway cars, through the underground tunnels of their station stops, bringing her through her memories of her Cuban childhood, until she is ultimately summoned to her final rest by her mother. Chu has a deft eye for visual storytelling, but more importantly, he imagines musicals in a different light than what we are used to. He invites the audience to go along for an unconventional journey and trusts that we will follow. He requires something of us, and that is why In the Heights succeeds where so many other stage to screen musical adaptations have failed. He knows we can handle something a little different and we are all the better for his asking us to.

One final point about In the Heights on the screen that added a dose of refreshing realism: the movie was cast with a variety of body types: skinny, heavy, awkward, athletic, old and young. It is one of the finest representations of body positivity ever captured in a stage or film musical. It felt nice to see people who look like ALL of us singing and dancing and given a musical life. For this reason alone, and myriad others, In the Heights is a worthwhile movie musical destined to enjoy a long and celebrated shelf life.