Love, Musicals: West Side Story (Dir Robert Wise and Jerome Robbins, 2h32m, 1961)

Firstly, I'm not that great a fan of musicals. Well, there are exceptions. The intriguing trio of Hadestown (in which Orpheus and Eurydice's tragic tale takes place against a post-apocalyptic Jazz age); the musical adaption of Tim Burton's 1988 horror comedy, Beetlejuice and, somewhat inevitably, Les Miserables remain among my favourites. I've had misgivings about covering the genre, but, the show must go on, and, as this is the month of love, what better way to consider musicals than to cover four romantic musicals, in a season that will take us from 1950s punk kids to fairytale castles, to 1900s Paris. First on the bill, though, brings us to New York, and starcross'd lovers (Natalie Wood and Richard Beymer) from rival gangs, as we consider perhaps the greatest musical of the 1960s, West Side Story.

By 1961, the stage adaption of West Side Story was a runaway success: loosely based on Romeo and Juliet, and depicting warring white (the Jets) and Puerto-Rican (the Sharks) teenage gangs in the poor areas of New York. This compelling narrative, drawing upon then-contemporary New York, was matched with an almost absurdly stacked creative team, with a score by Leonard Bernstein, lyrics by Stephen Sondheim, book by Arthur Laurents (already the scriptwriter for Hitchcock's Rope and later to be nominated for two Oscars for his work on The Turning Point (1977), its critical reaction was immediate and overwhelmingly positive, running for over 700 performances, before almost immediately simultaneously going on tour (a mere 249 performances), and opening in the West End for an even longer run of over 1,000 performances. With statistics like that, and with two Tony Awards in tow, a film adaption was inevitable.

There's gonna be a rumble tonight: the Jets and the Sharks face off.

We begin with New York. Many sequences of West Side Story were shot on studio lots, yet there is a thrilling realism to  its location work. We fly over New York, the stirring of the musical's Latin rhythms, the whistles of unseen gangs, the busy brass-something is about to happen, something is happening, in New York City-before we descend, and with the timpani roll, and the rhythmic click of fingers, the film's action immediately begins as we are introduced to the Jets. The entire first ten minutes of West Side Story is a masterclass in visual storytelling, all shot on beautifully rich Eastman stock. There are too many little moments that make this one of the great openings in musical cinema; the movement of the Jets across the court, their implied menace as they stalk through a basketball game that stops at their presence, before they come face to face with their adversaries, the Sharks, and the scuffles to outright violence that gather, like the best ballet, to a crescendo, all done without saying a word.

From this sequence alone, it's hardly surprising Director of Photography Daniel L. Fapp would win one of the film's ten Oscars for his work, but the film is scattered with beautiful shots, from the dance sequence, in which the action around our leads blurs, to the blood red sun and stark shadows before the film's climatic sequences that feel as ominous as anything being said, sung or done by our cast. Yet, it is the moment, right at the end, as one of the Jets is isolated, and beaten by the Sharks, and the violence turns from dance interpretation, to disturbingly real, the camera in the middle of the melee, that wordlessly hints at what is to come. We are soon introduced to the leaders of both gangs, Riff, who leads the Jets (Russ Tamblyn, who would pick up a Best Supporting Actor nomination), and Bernardo (George Chakiris, who would win Best Supporting Actor), whilst the local corrupt and racist police force, represented by plainclothes Inspector Schrank (Simon Oakland), and his heavy-handed lieutenant, Krupke (William Bramley, reprising his role from the original 1957 Broadway production) are despised by both sides.

I Like to Be In America: West Side Story is a beautifully shot and choreographed piece of cinema

From here, as the Jets plot a rumble to decide who rules the area once and for all, we are introduced to Tony and Maria, whose doomed romance plays out against this urbane background: Tony (Beymer) has seemingly left behind the streets, now working, but is inexorably brought back into the life of violence by Riff, whilst Maria (Wood), is the younger sister of Bernardo, who is often overprotective of his sister; the two meet at a dance arranged in the local community, where they immediately have eyes only for each other, and from here, their relationship flowers, even as those around them either try to dissuade them from the match, in the case of Bernardo and his girlfriend, Anita (a scene-stealing Rita Moreno), whilst Tony attempts to prevent the impending rumble, even after the brewing violence erupts tragically.

Much of this chemistry is brought to us through song: "Maria" is a perfect song of teenage longing, the sequence shot in heavily saturated purples and with some of the best cinematography of the entire film, whilst "Tonight", the film's answer to the balcony scene is, meanwhile, perhaps one of the sweetest songs of any musical. Whilst Maria's casting is perhaps the one thing that the 2021 Spielberg version has over the 1961 original, there is a boyish charm to Beymer's performance, and a sweet innocence to Wood, against which the coming rumble in the background, and its bloodletting turns the relationship from a charming meet-cute to tragedy that spills onto the streets. Yet, it's also undeniably a leading duo who exist principally as allegory: there is, undeniably a liberal social message to this all, but it occasionally loses its urbane fangs away from the storm of violence approaching the Jets and the Sharks, in saccharine terms.

Tonight, Tonight: Tony (Richard Beymer) and Maria (Natalie Wood) are a sweet, if occasionally saccarine central duo.

Once again, though, it is our supporting cast who get the best numbers, and here that West Side Story truly shines in both terms of being a musical with song and dance numbers, but where the film and the musical's skewering of New York's, and indeed America's socio-political climate in the late 1950s, and early 1960s is at its most pointed. "America" and "Dear Officer Krupke" are not only excellent choreographed songs with sharply sardonic lyrics; Sondheim may never have written better than "Life can be bright in America/If you can fight in America/Life is all right in America/If you're all white in America", but it also goes a way, especially with "Dear Officer Krupke" and the subsequent comments by Krupke's superior, to indicate that, whilst the Jets may be white, they are just as put-upon, as second-generation migrants, as the Puerto-Ricans, and, as the song about their plight indicates, they are pushed from authority figure to authority figure, none of whom take responsibility. It is this that makes the film's final third all the more tragic, and all the more charged.

West Side Story remains, even if one puts aside the ten Oscars, the three Golden Globes and the Grammy, not to mention the film's impact on the cinematic musical as an artform over the last 60 years, one of the best musical films ever made, a vividly shot, beautifully choreographed tale of love against conflict, against the backdrops of 1960s America.

Rating: Must See

West Side Story is available in the UK via streaming on Amazon Prime, and on DVD from MGM, on streaming in the US via AppleTV, and on BluRay from MGM

Next week, Grease is the word as we turn to 1978's 1950s throwback musical, starring John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John.