Photo courtesy of J. Stubbs Photography (https://jstubbsphotographyvb.com/)

Every time we see a show, we are rooting for it.  Some shows fall short of those hopes.  Some shows are what we expect.  And some shows explode off the stage, with color, and energy, and heart, right from the first number.  “In The Heights”, playing now at the Little Theatre of Norfolk, is the perfect example of that last category – thrusting the audience into the wonderful and vibrant Latinx community of New York City’s Washington Heights, where the streets are canonically made of music (something that I doubted, but was shockingly and unequivocally confirmed upon a pilgrimage we made a couple of years ago to 181^st Street to see the inspiration behind this story, discovering that boom boxes are in fact still in style).

Director (and President of LTN) Mallory Schmidt took on the bold task of bringing this “huge production to our little theater”, as assistant stage manager Vivian Ruiz-Grodi so aptly observed in her playbill bio – and Schmidt’s cast and crew rewards her leadership and vision with an extraordinary all-around performance.  Since this show is about community – we start with the impressive work of this ensemble, one of the best we have seen on a community theater stage.  They keep the energy up, dancing and singing through many different ensemble numbers – from the opening eponymous number, to “96,000”, to “The Club/Blackout”, nailing buttons throughout.  The dancing from choreographer Moriah Joy is bright, and well-executed, and unabashedly Latin, with vibrant costuming from designer Mickey VanDerwerker.  In fact, the many costume changes and perfectly on-character outfits caught us off-guard, as the show could have just as easily left most of the cast in a single costume for the duration and not thought twice about it; we definitely appreciated the extra time and detail spent on wardrobe.

And Schmidt’s attention to detail has infiltrated every aspect of the show.  It includes the set, designed by Wynn Horton, which is comprised mainly of two large rotating pieces, and has smart place-making extras like the window A/C unit in the back of Abuela Claudia’s apartment.  Derrion Hawkins’ lighting designs impress us more and more each time we see one, in this case beginning with an LTN special of having a cool backdrop that perfectly picks up any sequence of colors that Hawkins throws at it, moving through the use of a backlit screen to send us back in time and to Cuba, and finally with a satisfying trick to bring us fireworks throughout the theater. 

Each of the principal actors in the show feels like someone you’ve met before, someone with hopes and dreams and the willingness to work hard to achieve them (heck, even Graffiti Pete, played by William Thomas, is the hardest working tagger you’ve ever seen).  Our leading “will they or won’t they” couple is Usnavi (Jeremiah Vega) and Vanessa (Anyssa Castillo).  Castillo’s soaring vocals fly over the ensemble right into your soul, which only enhances the untouchable feel of her character, while Usnavi is like the most down to earth, practical guy you know.  It is hard to believe that this is Vega’s stage debut, as he seems so comfortable in his skin up there, knowing when to lean into Usnavi’s awkwardness, and impressing us with his understated vocals.  Meanwhile, Usnavi’s best friend Benny is played by Sean Tyrik, who brings the free and easy spirit of a young guy who finds the fun in everything to the character, most notably when he gets to run the dispatch radio for the taxi company he works for.  Tyrik’s relaxed Benny is the perfect complement to Madison Cupp-Enyard’s Stanford-bound Nina, who exudes the pressure of carrying the hopes of the neighborhood on her back as “the one who made it out”, as well as the pressure of knowing the investment her parents (played by a paternally-interminably-verbose Jeff Davis and a frustrated-yet-strong-and-supportive Danielle Villa-Lobos Hicks) have made in her emotionally and monetarily.  And we’ve seen Job Jones now in a few different roles at LTN, and this one is our favorite for him yet, as Usnavi’s young cousin Sonny.  Jones embodies Sonny to a ‘t’, with his movements doing an extraordinary job accenting whatever his character is doing or thinking at the moment. 

While we are speaking of body language – we can’t ignore Jessica Seneca’s salon owner Daniela any longer – for she would command our attention, whether gossiping at the salon with her employee Carla (a hilariously clueless Marilyn Pozo) or demanding that the neighborhood rally around her to have fun in the midst of an A/C-less summer day.  The resulting number – “Carnaval Del Barrio” – is so well constructed that it made me emotional to be sitting in that theater experiencing it.  Suffice it to say – the audience feels totally engrossed in the scene, and the cast, breathless by the end, is clearly having an amazing time.  I don’t have the words to connote the feeling you get watching this scene, and this show.  You have to be in the room to feel it, see it, touch it, to really understand.  Just ask Robert Walters, whose character, known only by his profession as “Piragüero” (a Puerto Rican snow-cone vendor), is desperately competing with the evil that is the offstage ice cream truck of Mister Softee.  Walters pushes his snow-cone cart (a sneaky strong prop from Finneas Finnerty) around stage with such verve and vigor, and the giddiness that Walters feels when business booms after Mister Softee’s truck breaks down is something that I don’t think can be recreated outside of the show.

The stabilizing force in the center of this community of dreamers is Abuela Claudia, an aging Cuban immigrant who is nobody’s actual grandmother, and yet is everyone’s actual grandmother.  Aliya Reed brings powerful vocals to the role – and Abuela’s strong, caring, and wise persona somehow comes through Reed effortlessly.  Her song, “Paciencia Y Fe”, is a moving masterpiece of what it is to be an immigrant, and the song she inspires later, “Alabanza”, is where the harmonies are tightest and serves as the emotional climax of the show. 

I truly love “In The Heights” as a show – from Lin Manuel-Miranda’s lyrics, written to feel like how you might have an actual conversation, to the reminder that no matter where you live, there is a community (likely within 180 blocks of you) just waiting to be explored.  But what I love most is what Abuela teaches us – that we are the ones who imbue things with importance.  That fire escape, that corner store, that bottle of champagne – none of it matters without the stories, without the people that surround them.  So value those people and the time you get to spend with them – you can’t get it back.