Rapturously entertaining, moving, exhibiting an intoxicating flow, and a sense of staging that defies the near-impossible task of recreating the immediacy of this hallowed stage text; Steven Spielberg’s first musical “West Side Story” exhibits effortlessness.
So one may be asking why Spielberg and screenwriter Tony Kushner would be drawn to bringing this iconic musical to the screen for a second time after the stage production has won countless Tony Awards and the last adaptation won the Best Picture Oscar?
Well, the answer is that when faced with the intimidation of a litany of creative icons associated responsible for every preceding interpretation, Spielberg is unafraid and wants a shot at the title.
“West Side Story,” for those with no or merely passing familiarity, began as Arthur Laurent’s 1957 interpretation of “Romeo and Juliet” set on the streets of late 1950s New York City. It evolved when Jerome Robbins conceived of the musical medium shift and enlisted legendary Leonard Bernstein for music, and the titanic Stephen Sondheim for lyrics. Along with the 1961 film (co-directed by Robbins and Robert Wise), it’s a canonical American pop-cultural text.
Two ethnic street gangs, the Jets (the white Americans – Irish/Polish) and the Sharks (Puerto Ricans), are drawn into a battle when founding Jet Tony (Ansel Elgort) falls for Maria (Rachel Zegler), the sister of the leader of the Sharks Bernardo (David Alvarez).
Screenwriter Tony Kushner and Spielberg anchor the folly and romance of this operatic cultural clash with a perennial tale of gentrification. Its rich themes explore cultural displacement, the philosophical reflection of what it is to be an American, entitlement (in all its dark manifestations), and the harsh and violent reality of street life encouraged in these lower socio-economic communities.
Spielberg’s mastery reflects the clash of the Jets and Sharks in the colour of the world they live in. With frequent collaborator, Janusz Kaminski the Jets are composed to be imprisoned by the muted dust of dilapidated buildings, faded blue of working (or out of work) stiffs. The Sharks are vibrant, loud and even the Puerto Rican flag requires a smear of black to bring them back to earth. The epic tragedy of power propagating political systems is that it pits the minority groups against one another endlessly in a battle for scraps from a table they’ll never sit at.
Rachel Zegler’s performance as Maria is the genuine discovery of the film. Zegler is charming, arrestingly beautiful, filled with a hopeful verve that delivers on goosebump-inducing tune and after goosebump-inducing song.
Ansel Elgort is by no means bad as Tony, it’s just unfortunate that he’s overshadowed by almost every single member of this incredible ensemble. The pair’s encounter at the ‘Dance at the Gym’ though – watching one another from across the dance floor, bodies moving imperceptibly between them, lights flickering, their gaze locking – is maybe the single most triumphant moment of the film.
Ariana DeBose’s Anita plays ring leader for, perhaps, the most joyful and intricately composed number of the film, “America”. Dancing through apartments and into the recreated New York streets past bodegas, markets, the crawling ‘hubbub’ of traffic, the colours burst forth in the costumes, the complexions, the blue sky. The song is about the promise of America, and it’s as if the grey dreariness of the city (the systems) cannot suffocate this divine ‘idea’.
David Alvarez’s tough guy Sharks leader Bernardo is suitably awed by Anita. Yet, despite Bernardo’s stature, his over-protective control of Maria (Zegler) and stubbornness, Anita (DeBose) disarms him (and the audience) in such powerful ways.
The change in this iteration to make Bernardo a professional boxer, is a function of cultural and class specificity. On the one hand, you see that he believes that he can literally and figuratively fight his way out of the shackles of class in America. In addition, it’s also that his crew select their champion with some level of legitimacy, in contrast to Riff (Faist) who tallies his record on the streets rather than the ring.
Rita Moreno returns (Moreno originally portrayed Anita in the 1961 version) as Valentina, the matriarch and bridge between the two warring factions of the Jets and Sharks – bridging the gap between the legacy of the original film and this one. Moreno’s Valentina is an exuberant, ear magical presence in the movie.
Her face has seen the promise and the harsh reality of Hollywood, and so her Valentina has an aura of experiencing the American dream for what it is rather than what it’s supposed to be. Moreno’s rendition of “Somewhere” (shifted from Consuela to Valentina for this adaptation) shows Spielberg’s profound sense of storytelling; we need Valentina’s regret to underscore the emotion, and it’s nothing short of magical.
Mike Faist’s Riff, the sole leader of the Jets (in Tony’s absence – watch the movie to find out the details), is incredible. Faist manages flawless accent work, dancing and terrific tunes. His work characterising Riff treads the high wire act of ignorance, violence, lack of compromise and somehow loveability that makes you root for him despite his inevitable push to oblivion.
The most considerable challenge is found in the source material, how are we to believe this sudden lightning rod of love between its two central characters? Why would we believe Maria’s love for Tony would allow her to forgive the ramifications of the ultimate conflict between the Jets and Sharks? It requires a suspension of disbelief that feels in the last to years to have been collectively beaten out of us, which is perhaps why it was refreshing to spend a couple of hours abandoning cynicism for love.
“West Side Story” is not so much a ‘masterpiece’ but rather a “master’s piece” – a film so formally and technically assured that it envelopes you. The cadence, the unbridled magic, the blend of tragedy and tangible, uncompromising reality; Spielberg, in case you forgot, is perhaps the greatest ever to do it.
