“West Side Story” (1961)

“West Side Story” (1961) – directed by Robert Wise and Jerome Robbins (5 stars)

“Life is all right in America if you’re all white in America” 

Evelyn (my wife) and I had already sat through one film at the theater on the day we saw “West Side Story.” We happened to meet up with the projectionist on our way out of the earlier film, and he happened to be discussing with another audience member just how stellar the 70mm print of this film was going to look on the big screen.  So, I asked Evelyn if she was willing to stay to watch the opening sequence, which features an incredibly energetic dance sequence filmed on location in Manhattan.  She begrudgingly agreed, and it was just as good if not better than I remembered it.  When it ended, I got up to leave and was summarily ordered to sit down.  We sat through the entire film, intermission and all.  Such is the power of cinema at its best.  Say what you will about the dated aspects of the dialogue and the weak acting of the two leads, the film is still an absolute pleasure to watch.  Seeing it in 70mm with a large, engaged audience enriched the experience far beyond what would have been possible on my home TV, no matter how large a group I might be able to assemble or how large my screen.  

The musical recounts the familiar story of star-crossed lovers, whose relationship is doomed from the moment they meet.  Like Shakespeare’s “Romeo and Juliet,” upon which this story is closely based, Maria (Natalie Wood), an immigrant Puerto Rican, and Tony (Richard Beymer), a native born white of Polish ancestry, begin their brief affair just as their clannish kinsmen are preparing to rumble.  Tony’s best friend is Riff (Russ Tamblyn), the leader of a white gang dubbed the Jets.  Maria’s brother is Bernardo (George Chakiris), the leader of the Puerto Rican gang the Sharks.  Could the deck be stacked any higher against them?  Young, innocent and oblivious, ultimately, they very quickly fall victim to the culture of honor that surrounds them.  Territoriality, racism, misogyny, misunderstandings, and sheer bad luck conspire to dash any chances they may have had for happiness.

 

“West Side Story” was nominated for 11 and won 10 Academy Awards, including Best Picture, Director (Robert Wise and Jerome Robbins), Supporting Actors (Rita Morena and George Chakiris), Art Direction, Cinematography, and Editing.  However, two key contributors did not win and were not even nominated.  These were composer Leonard Bernstein and lyricist Steven Sondheim, without whose contributions this film could never have been made. (Ironically, the four men who arranged the score shared the Award for Music.)  Bernstein’s hallmark fusion of syncopated jazz and Latin rhythms mirrored the out-of-balance lives lived by the protagonists and their peers.  Sondheim lyrics are brilliant and incredibly on the mark, whether applied in a romantic (“Somewhere”), sarcastic (“America”), or socially satirical (“Gee, Officer Krupke”) setting.  And then there’s the film’s spectacular opening dance number.  Following a series of aerial shots of Manhattan, the choreography escalates from cat and mouse games between small units of the Jets and Sharks into increasingly larger and more violent encounters.  The creative energy required to put together this lengthy sequence must have been enormous.  There is so much going on that it’s not possible to take in all of the action playing out on the large, wide screen.

With the exception of “Saving Private Ryan,” I can think of no other film that sustains from its opening shot so long a high level of energy.  What does it matter if the two leads are dubbed and John Astin (“Addams Family”) is miscast as the chaperon at the dance or if Simon Oakland (Lt. Schrank) recites his line as blandly as if he’s explaining why Norman Bates killed his mother in “Psycho” (which he did)?  The story, the songs, and the dancing just don’t get any better than this.  No wonder it’s rated number 51 on AFI’s top 100 list of American films and number 2 (just below “Singing in the Rain”) on their top 100 list of musicals.  And no wonder, too, that Evelyn (and I) decided to watch it once again, this time in all its 70mm glory.