Life itself is the chief antagonist of In the Heights. Here, ‘fights and endless debts and bills to pay’ are the status quo. Or so the chorus sing. This is Jon M. Chu’s infectiously buoyant adaptation of the eponymous Lin Manuel Miranda and Quiara Alegría Hudes’ Broadway hit of 2008. It’s a tale of dreamers, dancers and star crossed lovers. Gorgeously – almost distractingly – shot, this is a film that reminds as much as West Side Story as it does the blushed up beginnings of the Step Up franchise. The transition from stage to screen here borders on seamless. If it’s a little too blunt to be powerful, the film is nigh on impossible to dislike. In this day and age, that makes In the Heights a bonafide triumph.
Beggars can’t be choosers, as they say. And so it is that British cinema’s baron months finally bear fruit. Or should that be carrots? Yes, Peter Rabbit is back. To be precise: Will Gluck’s Peter Rabbit is back. That’s in opposition to the more delicately mischievous creation of Beatrix Potter. Whilst Gluck’s second adventure in Windermere retains the dimly meaner streak of its predecessor, it is somewhat softer around the edges and all the better for it. James Corden is no less horribly miscast as Peter but at least you can root for the winning performances of his live action counterparts: Domnhall Gleason and Rose Byrne.
In what must be one of the least promising opening sequences of recent years, the new Tom & Jerry film – their first in quasi-live action – opens with rapping pigeons, inexplicably hot footing around in thin air. A rat then makes a copyright joke. Give me strength. This one’s over a hundred minutes long.
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