![]() ![]() Slender and big-eyed and tired in jeans and beautiful shoes. Stranger yet: He’s a better writer than he is a performer. In fact, his is the rarest gift of actors or singers or comics anywhere: Not only do you like him immediately, you want him to like you back. The performer dares you not to love him, dares you not to be charmed, a terrible strategy for almost anyone but him. The sense of a finished line in the instant he’s made it. The quickness of his invention is remarkable, but more remarkable is the completeness of it. His gift radiates, creates a kind of heat. This close to Miranda, a young 35, you can watch the mind at work, hear it, feel the wheels turn, see the poet and performer up close. Joe’s Pub is a small cabaret across the lobby from the theater where Hamilton began. It’s a downtown porkpie crowd heavy on the mustache wax, seersucker and loggers’ boots. Hamilton’s George Washington, Christopher Jackson, has been too, and tonight they’re taking audience suggestions and turning them into laughs. Back in June, down on Lafayette Street, Lin-Manuel Miranda stands on the lip of a stage, bent at the waist, rapping hard, spitting, sweating, pigtails flying, bouncing three rhymes in two couplets off the word “ceviche.” On a rare night out while Hamilton: An American Musical moves uptown, he’s-¿ Cómo se dice?-freestyling.įreestyle Love Supreme is the comedy/improv rap troupe he’s been part of for years. ![]()
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