The bravura title sequence of the 1979 thriller The Warriors builds up a head of steam by following waves of gangs as they hit the streets of New York. There’s a posse of dandies sporting pink waistcoats, an army in fatigues, even a bunch dressed as mimes. Like Coney Island’s leather vest-wearing Warriors, each leaves their home turf for a midnight meeting in the Bronx to unite every crew in the city through a truce. Within minutes, director Walter Hill has set out his stall: the film’s turnstile-vaulting energy, grimy vistas, jangling tension and puckish comedy are all here.
In their adaptation, a concept album that raises the tantalising prospect of a future staging, Lin-Manuel Miranda and Eisa Davis achieve something similar. The blistering, kaleidoscopic opener is presided over by dancehall dynamo Shenseea as a DJ introducing MCs for each borough. Amid punchy fanfares, they are deftly delineated: Chris Rivers as a raspy Bronx, Nas cranking up intrigue as Queens, Cam’ron smoothly humorous as Manhattan (“when you say New York, we’re actually what you mean”), Busta Rhymes’ explosively gruff Brooklyn and Wu-Tang Clan’s Ghostface Killah and RZA spinning ethereal suspense for Staten Island, repeating the detail of their arduous route to the Bronx, “taking a train to a boat to another train”.
