While there is some debate about Hamilton's true ethnicity, one thing that's beyond doubt is that its colour-blind casting is one of the play's true hallmarks.
It's also fittingly called the first hip hop musical. Hip hop is often a musical expression of dissatisfaction with the status quo, in much the same way Hamilton and his contemporaries took on the British Empire and carved out their own space. Radicals get noticed, and they make change.
The phenomenon that is this production is something to behold. People who haven't seen the show - tickets are sold out eight months or more in advance - have memorized the soundtrack (guilty as charged). Although seeing it live, feeling the energy of the performances and the space, creates moments of magic unlike anything you've experienced in the theatre in a very long time.
Does it deserve the accolades? A hundred times yes.
The staging is relatively simple and unadorned. The costumes serve to represent their time without distracting the eye.
This show is about music and words - and ideas.
Some ideas are familiar, for example, early Americans' need to break away from the Motherland and forge their own destiny. Others are less so.
The whole show is racially charged in ways that are often unexpected. For example, in one of the standout songs, Yorktown, the characters sing, "We'll never be free/until we end slavery!" This comes not during the Civil War, a century later, but during the Revolutionary War itself. The progressive impulses that drove these men and their actions forged a straight line all the way to the Civil Rights and Black Lives Matter movements. It links their history to struggles that are as vital and current as today's headlines.
And those songs... sigh.
Musically and lyrically, Hamilton seems to share at least some of the same genetic material as Les Miserables. These words, from the latter, could just as easily have appeared in the former: "Do you hear the people sing?/Singing the song of angry men?/It is the music of the people/Who will not be slaves again!"
The characters seem profoundly aware of both their place in history, and their role in shaping it. They talk - or rather sing - frequently about building something that will outlive them. Nowhere is this idea more glaringly painful than when they ask, "Who lives, who dies, who tells your story?"
A couple of scenes hit very close to home. The Cabinet battles and the fights with Congress were very much an indication that, as the French would say, "Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose."
As a founding father, Hamilton has never enjoyed the attention and reverence paid to Washington or Jefferson. Is it because he was an immigrant? A philanderer (who wasn't?) Was it because of race?
One thing the story makes abundantly clear is that none of the protagonists was a particularly kind man. Each was scheming and Machiavellian in his own way, which is in large measure how they succeeded in what they did. Advocates and agitators don't achieve results by playing nice.
In creating this epic production, Lin Manuel Miranda has helped ensure that this seminal moment in US history, and indeed world history, is properly documented. The answer to your question, Mr. Hamilton, is that Mr. Miranda will tell your story. And he will do a remarkable job.