The power of movie musicals is unmatched among other genres. Nowhere is that more present than in the Oscar-winning West Side Story (1961), the Robert Wise/Jerome Robbins film that brought the dance-heavy reimagining of Shakespeare to life and set a template that few have matched. The epitome of the Golden Age Hollywood era, it captured the very essence of entertainment from its potential highs to a few inevitable, poorly aged lows. The common agreement is that West Side Story is a masterpiece with one of Stephen Sondheim’s greatest songbooks, but to witness it on film 60 years later is to recognize its flaws. The majority of the singers were dubbed, Natalie Wood played Puerto Rican lead Maria, and even Rita Moreno had to have her skin darkened. The flaws of Hollywood’s yesteryear exist in its DNA, but what’s a miracle is that in spite of this the film is every bit as beloved as people say.
That is why the argument as to whether it should be remade has always been less rooted in nostalgia and more in doing the source material justice. On stage, it has experienced many adaptations including more authenticity in acting and dialogue. The show has evolved with the times, so the idea that the film was ever a sacred text has been a weird one. It makes sense that somebody would want to take a crack at it, address the ways that the themes are relevant and in some ways stronger. The only question really is whether Steven Spielberg, the master of the blockbuster, was deserving of taking on that challenge.
While it would’ve been more interesting to see him bring his talents to a story previously unseen on the big screen, it is keeping with his recent turn towards more nostalgic texts. Lincoln (2012) found him exploring the importance of democracy while Bridge of Spies (2014) and The Post (2017) found him assessing the value of the individual to change the country through moral good. His effort to find optimism and pride in the American spirit has run through all of his work. As far as mainstream musicals go, few have embodied that, even if critically, as much as West Side Story: a story of two rival gangs that are fighting over territory. It’s a juvenile premise, fueled by teenage impulse, but it’s what thrives in every individual. There are small ways that we’re all naïve, willing to overlook humanity for selfish gain. In that respect, Spielberg’s first proper dive into movie musicals feels perfectly apt.
Reteaming with Lincoln scribe Tony Kushner, West Side Story (2021) is updated in ways that elevate the text into a more fulfilling drama. With bilingual conversations flowing through the air, this throwback is given new life and presented in a way that feels much more grimy, reeking with the seediness that makes the war feel more dangerous, the melodrama more grounded in something sincere. As far as atmosphere goes, Spielberg has created a New York that is rich with its own transitioning history.
The opening shot has an epic scale, looming over a construction site. The romanticism of the 1961 version is gone, replaced with news that The Lincoln Center will be built in its place. It’s a subtle nod to the film’s legacy, finding the streets where the original was filmed now replaced with one of the premier venues for live theater. It’s a place of conflict, but it also has plenty of socioeconomic subtexts as well, finding the struggle for land possession serving as something more than petty. It’s the sense that a larger force is taking away a future, a chance at sustainability. Anything that was built up is slowly slipping away. This isn’t the cheery 50s version of struggle. It’s one where billowing clouds of dust feel like they could hide a gang member, waiting to strike.
It’s the perfect source for a Spielberg film, and one of his most electric in over a decade. The repurposed music of Leonard Bernstein plays as the white gang of The Jets takes on the Puerto Rican gang of The Sharks. Chase scenes have a vividness, full of small moments of peril as everyone tries to survive. The Jets are more likely to win the hearts of the police, first introduced confronting the gang as someone has a nail through a bloody ear. It’s a small detail, but one that plants fatality and danger into the text. It’s the type of premise where The Jets feel at times more nihilistic, uncaring about their own future. They will be buried under the rubble like the old apartment complex. Why bother being an upstanding citizen?
It should be noted that between Spielberg’s active filmmaking and Kushner’s denser script, West Side Story loses a lot of what made it a compelling musical. For all of his effort, Spielberg can’t shoot dance sequences as poetic. The best of them are presented as expressive angst, breaking free in these intimate ways. The celebratory numbers are at times rushed, finding him more eager to use his action cinema technique to zoom in on the plot, never allowing the audience to take in the spectacle of movement. The musical component, despite being expertly made, feels tangential to Spielberg’s greater intent. This isn’t an ode to the breathtaking dance choreography that has defined the work, but a conversation with Arthur Laurents’ original book, asking what does and doesn’t work about the conflict of the narrative.
Thankfully, that is where the film is arguably a masterpiece, a vast improvement over Wise’s original. Kushner is eager to give every character a new coat of paint. Tony (Ansel Elgort) has more of a backstory and his rehabilitated criminal ways feel more sympathetic. The way he navigates the parlor where he works has a liveliness. He feels youthful when he sings “Something's Coming” while hanging from ladders and staring into the floor, peeks into a fantasy that suggests hope and potential. He is the eternal optimist, breaking free of The Jets’ nihilism, best embodied by Riff (Dear Evan Hansen’s Mike Faist) who updates the role with a sneer, where the only thing sharper than the switchblade in his pocket is the words he projects from his sneer.
While the film still exists in some artifice, Spielberg is more interested in pushing everything more towards realism. It may be why numbers like “America” are done in more practical settings, rushing the dancers into the street for a lively number. At times they embody a hyperactive Busby Berkeley, rushing down the street as comical moments pop from corners of the frame. While Spielberg hasn’t quite mastered the way to shoot this, his ideas are definitely on display, allowing the music to play like an action film, constantly impressing the audience with shameless enthusiasm.
Even then, the action component is where the film feels strongest. For decades, that has been the defining trait of his cinema, finding something universal in the peril of an everyman falling into a horrendous situation. How will Tony and his newfound love Maria (Rachel Zegler) possibly survive in a world where her brother Bernardo (David Alvarez) is constantly in danger from racial profiling and the turf wars are constantly growing more and more dangerous? There is that naivety, that belief that they will free themselves of this dangerous world and potentially find something greater, but not without trying to make a peace offering. It’s the optimism that Spielberg has been working towards, especially in this past decade, but those who know West Side Story will know that it won’t come without a few unconventional fates.
This is why the most energetic scenes are the ones where everyone feels cornered, about to make very difficult decisions. It is why the pivotal rumble is a nail-biter, serving as one of the most immersive set pieces he’s directed in years. There’s a concern as everything clashes, finding the potential to turn back rapidly disappearing. The emotions are high. It’s why the latter half, despite being predominantly equal to the original structure, feels supreme. The celebratory first half has moments of visual panache, but it’s when everyone must ponder the morality of their decisions that Spielberg flourishes. It’s also why one of the most energetic scenes includes the number “Cool,” where negotiation over a gun turns into a very creative ballet. The scene has personality, stakes, and something that the director cares about.
West Side Story is a musical that has more on its mind than music. While the orchestration is among the best in many years, the use in the film lacks fluidity at times, refusing to properly bake into the personality of the characters. “Prologue” lacks enough momentum to capture how dance has informed the legacy of this work. In its place are chase scenes and movement more associated with action cinema. It’s still riveting but fails to be total escapism. The one respite is that the show was always more obsessed with pushing the boundaries of performance art, taking narrative risks. In that way, Spielberg’s updates don’t feel apocryphal. If anything, they find the substance that goes beyond the dance and replace it with something more urgent.
A lot of credit should be given to Kushner, who has elevated the script in ways that the 1950s ethos wouldn’t allow. There’s a grittiness in design. The language is much more coarse. Even in The Sharks’ homesteads, they are constantly under surveillance, having to break free of speaking Spanish just to please their white counterparts. There are small ways that Kushner builds tension, making the heat feel like it’s constantly boiling. Elsewhere, small additions allow the story to comment on aspects that were always in the text but were never fully addressed. A prime example includes Anybodys (Iris Menas), a character for the first time depicted as transgender who has their own journey throughout the narrative from social outcast to a member accepted by this gang of wayward youth.
That is the thing that ultimately drives the story. While everyone is fighting each other, there is a bigger war outside. Every character is in some way disadvantaged. They are lacking the chance to live The American Dream and fulfill the promises that were often sung about. Whether it’s the lower class, immigrants, women, elderly, or LGBTQIA+ community, Spielberg takes time to address their place in this society. They threaten to be wiped out for grand pieces of architecture. Their history is fading, and the question is not only how to survive, but how to keep their story alive. By the end, The Lincoln Center is still being resurrected. Will any of them be there to see it? Will any of them care?
West Side Story has found an immortal way of making themes of youthful love feel stronger than before. The impending potential of irrelevance hangs over the film, forcing instinct to kick in. How does one move forward in a world that openly proves that it doesn’t want you? Somberly, everyone trudges on, moving away from the artifice of song and into the painful truth of tragedy. Everything didn’t need to be the way that it was, but due to a lack of proper communication, everything fell apart. In a poetic moment of irony, the only thing left is to try and rebuild the community that was torn apart.
For as much as this fails to be the movie musical event of 2021, West Side Story continues to reflect its own endurance by showing how it can speak to new generations. While the music is just as lively and memorable as ever, it’s the story that plucks the heartstrings, asking the audience to feel these powerful emotions and recognize the deeper allegory, the need to trust and love each other. Spielberg and Kushner have done the unthinkable by finding ways to make it relevant with bold but worthwhile edits that may turn off purists, but show that this story is not rooted in one way of thinking. It’s constantly evolving, needing reassessment every now and then. Even if it takes 60 years for people to think of the film as well as they do Wise’s version, it may be worth it just to know that the man used to taking big risks did it in the most unexpected way and succeeded. Many people could’ve made West Side Story into a fun musical, but few could interpret it into something much more provocative and alive.
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