Review: ‘In the Heights’ is the infusion of joy we needed

“I am Usnavi and you prob’ly never heard my name,” declares bodega owner Usnavi at the start of “In the Heights,” Lin-Manuel Miranda’s contagiously joyous ode to his beloved Washington Heights neighborhood. “In the Heights,” directed with unabashed exuberance by Jon M. Chu from a screenplay by Quiara Alegria Hudes, doesn’t seek to reframe American history; it uses Miranda’s rapid-fire wordplay and hybrid of traditional and contemporary styles to tell the story of one community — one intersection, even — through universal experiences, like encroaching gentrification. “Lights up,” begins the infectious opening number, and those words are perfect: Lights up on Washington Heights, yes, but also on a reawakened New York, where many are tentatively returning to pre-pandemic rhythms after a miserable year, eager for shared experience. What shines are the inventive and joyous musical numbers — like “96,000,” in that swimming pool, in which everyone imagines how they’d spend lottery winnings.