West Side Story (Robert Wise and Jerome Robbins, 1961)

When white teenager Tony (Richard Beymer) falls in love with a Puerto Rican girl Maria (Natalie Wood), he finds himself on a collusion course with his former life in the street gang the Sharks, which are in an escalating conflict with their Puerto Rican rivals, the Jets.

West Side Story is one of the greatest musicals of all time, and I have never seen it.

I have never seen the stage version and my knowledge of Leonard Bernstein, Stephen Sondheim and mid-century Broadway is negligible.

The first aspect of the film that stands out is its dynamism - the choreography of the players, the camera, the compositions and the edit.

Co-directed by jack-of-all-trades Robert Wise and the show’s director-choreographer Jerome Robbins, the film has a sense of movement and depth within each shot.

 

Wise is famous for working in multiple genres, and you can see that understanding of cinematic language in the variety of modes in this film’s setpieces:

With their use of high and low-angles and use of different planes (Bernardo’s (George Chakiris) introduction, grabbing a basketball in extreme closeup as the sharks (in the background) freeze), each showdown between the Jets and the Sharks feel like dance numbers within the cinematic language of a Western.

The use of vibrant colours is evocative and atmospheric - the red during the fight between Bernardo and Riff; the chiaroscuro as Maria and Tony hold each other in Maria’s bedroom while the gangs hunt for him.

While shot on a mix of New York locations and sets, there is a verisimilitude between these different environments that make them feel of a piece, and allow for the musical numbers to expand beyond mere realism.

West Side Story is a great film with massive Achilles heels - the use of mostly non-Latinx actors in brownface undermines the portrayal of the Puerto Rican characters. There is probably a lack of cultural specificity I am not aware of to the script, but no pun intended, at face value, the casting puts a massive hole through the film’s good intentions.

It is a pity because it means Rita Moreno is the only shred of humanity in the piece. She is great, but it is constantly jarring. 

I actually liked George Chakiris’s performance as Bernardo - he brings an energy, charisma and menace that is missing from the film’s portrayal of the street gangs. Apparently Chakiris - of Greek extraction - had played Riff in the West End version of the show, but the filmmakers decided he was too dark in complexion and cast him as Bernardo. 

This is a mistake because while Russ Tamblyn is a terrific talent, Chakiris seems to have a better feel for the danger and stakes that the story needs. 

The central romance is also a bit of a dud - Natalie Wood is a fine actress but her casting is ridiculous, and she brings no real spark to the character.

Maybe it is because I heard so much criticism of his performance, I was kind of onboard with Richard Beymer in the first part of the movie. There was something pure about how sensitive he is, particularly compared with how heightened everyone else is.

 

Once he has blood on his hands and has to play the pathos of those scenes he completely loses me.

 

Rather than gaining tragedy and a sense of stakes from Riff and Bernardo’s deaths, the movie loses steam - perhaps a result of focusing on the central lovers.

Perversely, the movie holds together. It is a flawed creation, but one held together by its supporting components - the supporting cast, Robbins’ choreography, and the marvellous score by Leonard Bernstein and Stephen Sondheim. And that Saul Bass title sequence is pure perfection.