Sure, It’s A Musical, But It’s All Uphill From There!
A review of West Side Story (2021), by someone who never saw the original.
Usually, I’m not one for musicals. Proof: I have a friend who goes nuts for musicals, and a few years ago, I let her rave to me at least once a weekday for several months about how freaking good Hamilton was. When it finally showed up on Disney+, I never even made it halfway through. I wanted to love it, for her, but it couldn’t hold my interest. But that’s a recording of a stage musical, which isn’t the same as watching something in its intended medium. When it comes to musical movies, I’ve seen a few, and none really captivated me. Mary Poppins is, of course, a classic, and the songs are catchy, which was good enough for my childhood self. But while Baz Luhrmann’s Romeo + Juliet is my favourite movie of all time, I was actively bored watching Moulin Rouge!, and never finished it. The one movie musical that I really love is The Rocky Horror Picture Show, but who doesn’t? Actually, I’m sure a lot of people don’t, but at least no one could ever accuse that film of being boring.
Ultimately, I’ve almost always left musicals believing that they would have been better off without the music part, and the same mostly holds true for West Side Story, with the notable exception of “America,” a song that is over five minutes long and yet entertains the entire time. I rewatched it on half speed just to be able to take in the dancing properly.
I think it’s important that I distinguish between singing and dancing here, because the choreography is on point throughout this film, and absolutely adds something valuable to it. For that reason, I’ll tackle dancing first. The cast is practically perfect, and most of them are trained and excellent dancers with experience on Broadway, so they can do some truly stunning stuff. I’m a big fan of Romeo and Juliet in play form; my favourite movie is Romeo + Juliet, and part of what I like about that adaptation is that it takes the exact text and plot of a very melodramatic play and ups all the production values to match the melodrama. West Side Story is a similarly dramatic adaptation, all emotions and instant love, so the dance sequences help sell that story by adding a theatrical element that ties the whole thing together and keeps the tone consistent. I don’t think the story would work if you played it straight. The love story is too unrealistic to survive as a plain drama.
So yes, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the choreography. Unfortunately, the songs didn’t all work for me. They were good quality songs, but a lot of them ran just long enough that I started to feel bored by the end, and that’s just my aversion to musicals showing through. “Something’s Coming,” “I Feel Pretty,” and “A Boy Like That/I Have A Love” really didn’t do it for me, though for fans of the genre, I don’t think they would be a problem. I thought “Gee, Officer Krupke” was fun, and like I mentioned before, all five minutes of “America” are entertaining. The lyrics are clever; that kind of repetition of similar phrases while never actually repeating the same line is the best kind of musical song, in my opinion, and the dancing was fantastically exuberant. Besides, it explores two sides of a political argument and delves into Anita and Bernardo’s complicated relationship to life in the US, which is a nice, juicy topic for a song.
In fact, my favourite part of the movie is Anita and Bernardo, because damn do those two have chemistry. A lot of that’s down to the central role they have in several dance scenes, including the dance at the gym and “America,” which really lets their skills shine. There’s also something sweet about a couple that embraces tenderness and light in the middle of a tense gang war movie. Technically, Maria and Tony do the same, but they barely know each other, and that really inhibits how much I can empathise with them. Anita and Bernardo, however, are familiar with each other while still keeping things fresh and sexy: the sweet spot, really. Their relationship did a lot to get me to like Bernardo, and not just see him as an antagonist (not that the movie has an antagonist, other than the spectre of gentrification hanging over the entire thing). David Alvarez’s performance was the other thing; the man just oozes charisma. From the beginning, he walks with confidence and a kind of toughness built on something real. For the character, that makes sense: he’s a boxer and a survivor, someone who is forcing America to yield a better life to him, no matter how much it resists.
It’s captivating to watch, especially when contrasted with Mike Faist’s Riff, who bounces and slinks around with equal charm, but in a different flavour: he blends in with the Jets, so much so that it can be a surprise when he starts talking. He has the body language of a kid who avoids, a kid who has spent his whole life trying to escape from the situation he was born into, and was never given a legitimate way to do that. Like Lieutenant Schrank says, “Most of the white guys that grew up in this slum climbed their way out of it… Your dads, or your grandads, stayed put, drinking’, and knocking up some local piece who gave birth to you: the last of the Can’t-Make-It-Caucasians.” It’s harsh way of putting it, but it’s true. These kids weren’t exactly handed things on a silver platter. Riff’s just another survivor. The affection that he has for his boys, and the fervent conviction he holds that he can save them all from their imminent downfall by just fighting hard enough really makes him someone you want empathise with, and also makes up for… well, the fact that he’s a bit racist.
The film handles the racial aspect seamlessly, incorporating it into the story without being on the nose or moralising about it, and it makes all the right decisions when it comes to casting actual hispanic actors this time around. Spielberg made Rita Moreno executive producer, and listened to her input about the real experiences she had growing up Puerto Rican in the USA, and that shows. It feels like a depiction of New York in the fifties that is open to everyone’s story, everyone’s perspective, while not making a big deal out of it.
Given that the main characters are Maria and Tony, I should probably talk about them. I’m a bit surprised by how little I have to say. One of the reasons for that, I think, is the expectations I had going in. We all know that they’re the star-crossed lovers. Even though I hadn’t seen the original musical, I’m familiar with the original original, the source text, Romeo and Juliet. Maria and Tony’s story, therefore, held no surprises for me. I knew the basics of their plot line already, as well as being prepared for the tragic ending. No surprises = less lasting impression. Besides, the idea of falling in love with someone over the course of a few days has always been faintly ridiculous. It’s hard get emotionally attached to characters who make decisions you’re pretty sure you’d never make. They were sweet, though; the story works despite the flaws inherent in it. Yeah, that’s all I have to say about them.
Let’s take a look at my favourite scene: it’s the one towards the end where Anita goes to Doc’s to give Tony a message, and the Jets start to harass her. Graziella (Riff’s girlfriend) tries to stop them, and the boys grab her and her friend (who is played by Maddie Ziegler! Talk about blink-and-you’ll-miss-it.) and toss them outside before locking them out of the store. As Graziella is being dragged away, there is a shot of her reaching for Anita’s hand; she’s in hysterics, and the two hold on to each other for a moment before being ripped apart. Something about the solidarity in that moment, the fact that they are in the same position — the “widows” of the respective gang leaders — and the fact that the dangers of being a woman in that environment transcends gang loyalty with absolutely no hesitation from Graziella really struck a chord for me. She’s such a minor character, but Paloma Garcia-Lee gave a fantastic performance, both in terms of acting and dancing, and the empathy and bravery that Graziella shows, even in the midst of her own grief, is an element of the film that really adds depth and heart. That shot of the women reaching for each other is my favourite, there’s so much visceral terror there. I really appreciate it when films acknowledge the realities of being female in a male environment, especially when they’re directed and written by men. I felt understood, I guess. The rivalry may be important to the men, but you get the feeling that the women on both sides understand that they are more similar than anything else, and that they maybe even admire each other, if only from a distance. In the dance at the gym, the girls seem to be taking a more playful approach to the dance battle, seeing it as a chance for fun and activity, while the men take everything deadly seriously.
In conclusion, West Side Story (2021) is a good movie, and a smart one. Against the odds, I even enjoyed some of the musical numbers. It’s a pity so many people missed out on this one.
