IN THE ROOM WITH

I think the process of making anything is going as far afield as you can and then reconnecting to the original impulse. That’s the gig.

FIRSTNAME/LASTNAME In “Ixx”

While “Tick, Tick...Boom!” is a cult classic with a passionate fanbase, Miranda knows this film, which features an adapted screenplay by “Dear Evan Hansen” scribe Steven Levenson, means a lot more people are going to hear this story than ever before. (It is Netflix, after all.) He takes the responsibility of interpreting Larson’s legacy seriously.

At the same time, he couldn’t let himself be paralyzed by the question of how the work would be received. It’s a trick of the mind he’s been honing for years. “The game you constantly have to play with yourself is the joy of sharing the thing you’re making. Whether that’s with your spouse or 10 people or an audience full of people, you always have to figure out how to stay connected to [the question,] ‘Why the fuck did I start doing this in the first place?’ ” he says. “Because there are times when you are in the weeds and you have to think back to: What was the impulse that made me start?

“I think the process of making anything is going as far afield as you can and then reconnecting to the original impulse,” he continues. “That’s the gig. If you’re doing that enough, you’re not worrying about the success or the failure of the thing. You can’t control it. All you can do is control what you can be proud of, and it’s the thing you’re making.”

Though it is shaping up to be a theme in his work, Miranda is a lot less obsessed with his legacy than one might expect. On the contrary, he’s often been quick to go full steam ahead, even if the thing isn’t ready. Thinking back to his early days, pre-“Hamilton” and pre-“In the Heights,” he says, “I had that Jonathan Larson ‘Tick, Tick’ thing of, like: Get it out of my head and onto a fucking stage, please.”

He cites his yearslong collaborator and “Hamilton” director Thomas Kail as the lighthouse guiding him away at the moments when he should really say no. Miranda knows the word is a tough one, especially when you’re young and in need of opportunity—yet he’s adamant. “A lot of your 20s is developing the gut that says no to the good so you can say yes to the great.”

Of course, it’s not always easy to tell the difference. You may also, at times, be pressured to make artistic compromises, which are even harder to resist when they offer forward mobility. That’s why, when asked for a less vague take on the common advice for up-and-comers to “Make your own stuff,” Miranda advises, more specifically, “Make what’s missing.”

“ ‘In the Heights’ was really born out of fear. It was, ‘Oh, I want to be in musicals, and Paul in “A Chorus Line” and Bernardo in “West Side Story” are it for you if you want to play a lead role,’ ” he says of being a Puerto Rican American performer. “And the other side of that is: No one’s going to make your dream show. It’s your dream.”

Which brings him back to maintaining an allegiance to your initial vision. When “Hamilton” was still a seed of an idea, it took Miranda two years to write the first two songs—not because he was worried about the show’s potential to fail or succeed, but because he was completely overwhelmed by the material. “I read this book and he’s an asshole, and I read this book and he’s a totally different guy, and it was just like, What am I putting onstage?”

A drink with his mentor, playwright John Weidman, was, well, sobering. “He basically said, ‘You can’t get it all, so write the parts that made you think this could be a good idea in the first place, and it’s going to form its own spine,’ ” he says. “ ‘Your impulses will form the version of the thing you’re making.’ ”

It’s advice that served him well directing his first film, too, as every single

In “Hamilton” On “His Dark Materials”

With Chris Jackson in “In the Heights”

decision—from what’s on Jonathan’s shelves to the kind of futon he sleeps on—came down to him. That much Miranda understood. What surprised him was how intimate these choices ultimately made the film. The first time he watched a rough cut, “I had this crashing feeling of, ‘Oh, my God, this movie’s so fucking personal,’ ” he says.

Miranda thinks those who watch it, artists especially, may recognize a bit of their own struggle, too. After all, the story is about climbing to the top of a mountain only to realize it was just the hill leading to the mountain’s base. But there’s a reason the last song in “Tick, Tick...Boom!” is all questions.

At the end of the film, Jonathan “is not the guy who wrote ‘Rent,’ ” Miranda says. “He’s the guy who has to start ‘Rent.’ ”