“She knew all the show hits, Cole Porter and Kurt Weill…especially she liked the songs from Oklahoma!, which were new that summer and everywhere.”
— Truman Capote, Breakfast at Tiffany’s
“What’s that sound they make on Peanuts? You know, the one where the adults are talking?” This comes up in conversation regularly. And we might not even be talking about Peanuts.
“Mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah” is the answer.
The Peanuts comic strips of the ‘60s came on the heels of the rebel films of the ‘50s — you know, the ones where if you saw the parents they were considered old and ineffectual. West Side Story certainly falls into this category. Doc and Officer Krupke are the only adults I can think of. And that’s okay. These stories subscribe to the primary tenet of children’s literature: the first thing you do is get rid of the parents.
At the same time, though, I’ve always felt there was something missing. Maybe it was because I was a kid watching Peanuts, West Side Story, and Rebel Without a Cause. Now I’m the parent.
Which brings me to In the Heights, which is a whammy — the music, lyrics, singing, dancing, acting, costuming, and, of course, setting — steamy, hot New York. What a wonderful way to start the summer. And it wasn’t until a few days after that I had my ah ha! moment: Abuela. She’s the heart and soul of In the Heights. And the Abuelas and other adults from those previous films are exactly what’s missing: a multi-generational outlook on the problems of the story.
The richness of In the Heights is only heightened by the fact that everyone, young and old, is dealing with the issues of, among others, racism, education, and gentrification. While there would be nothing wrong with the story told only from the point of view of the young adults, it is all the more compelling and complex, because it is all inclusive.
It’s exactly like life.