West Side Story

Rating: PG-13
Runtime: 2 hours, 36 minutes
Director:  Steven Spielberg

Quick Impressions:
I’m trying to be rational about this (and failing), but do you know how immensely gratifying it would be to some primitive part of me if Rita Moreno won an Oscar again for the same movie sixty years later?  After seeing West Side Story (which I liked much more than I expected), I can say with confidence that Ariana DeBose gives one of the strongest supporting performances I’ve seen all year (especially with all the singing and dancing factored in).  She deserves a nomination for Best Supporting Actress for sure.  But Rita Moreno…

I’m a writer.  I can’t resist a good story.  Every year, I follow the Oscars as closely as I can (just for pleasure).  So far in 2021, I haven’t encountered a more compelling narrative on screen than the one happening parallel to the fictional events in this film.  I love metadrama. The story of Rita Moreno’s continuing, evolving involvement in this musical is by far the most compelling narrative I’ve seen on screen all year.  I mean, her story is more captivating and emotionally resonant than the plots of other potential contenders for Best Picture.  (And this is coming from someone who likes those other movies, likes some of them a lot.)

I mean, what a story!  (And it’s true!)  Imagine getting to a play a scene with a version of your own younger self and deliver lines that describe the truth of that situation in a more brutally honest (and no doubt satisfying) way than when you played Anita sixty years ago.  A lot has changed since Moreno played Anita.  The movie audience watching now is a different audience.  (Even the people who did watch in 1961 have gradually changed over the years.) Director Steven Spielberg and writer Tony Kushner made some deliberate changes to West Side Story, among other things empowering Moreno to tell her own story in the way that she experienced it (back when she was Anita).  She knows what’s happening better than anyone else.  She lived it.  (Moreno used to play Anita, and she also used to be a type of Anita (someone born in Puerto Rico who moved to New York when she was young), and her new character Valentina used to be someone like Anita, too). 

Imagine how gratifying it must be for Moreno not just to witness but to participate in the continued cultural resonance of West Side Story.  Even better, she also gets to see (and to help create) positive changes to the musical that make the story more honest, more authentic, and more respectful to people of her own culture.  (It’s so cool that Doc’s part is reimagined for Moreno.  It’s much better to write a character for her than to give her a brief, insignificant cameo.  And the character of Valentina has a lot in common with Moreno herself, i.e. we think of her as one of us because she’s been a familiar entertainer in this country for so long, but she’s more than that, too.) 

There’s a second story happening parallel to the plot of West Side Story that needs to be told on the red carpet again and again and again.  And if the Academy does nominate Moreno for Best Supporting Actress, she will tell it for sure.  (She’s telling it now!  She’ll probably show up and bring her wonderful life story with her in any event, but I do hope she gets an Oscar nomination.)  Who wouldn’t want to celebrate a story like that?  An Oscar nomination for her would make everyone so happy (at least, Rita Moreno and me).

I don’t even care who else was good this year.  (Sorry everybody else this year!) If the Academy doesn’t nominate Rita Moreno for Best Supporting Actress, they are collectively insane and missing a huge opportunity for a magical awards season.  (I know she’s also an executive producer of the film.  If it’s nominated for Best Picture, will she be nominated, too?  I need to look into that.  I never understand which producers are eligible to be nominated.)

I took my daughter with me to see West Side Story this weekend because her six-year-old brother won’t sit through movies.  He says he only movie he likes is Sonic the Hedgehog, so we hardly ever go as a family anymore.  (We used to take our older two kids to the movies all the time! When my daughter was the six-year-old, she liked everything as long as she got an Icee!)

A girls’ day out was nice, but in the middle of West Side Story, I suddenly worried, “Did I make a mistake?  Should I have taken my husband to this?  He’s the world’s most dreamy-eyed romantic!”  My daughter hates every movie romance.  Love stories just aren’t for her. She rolls her eyes at all of them.  She was even rolling her eyes at the trailers!

(To be fair, that Jennifer Lopez/Owen Wilson movie does ask us to accept a lot.  “Why is this always the preview we see?” she complained.  “Nothing about this is believable in any way!”  “I don’t know,” I told her, “I believe that Sarah Silverman might gleefully attack someone with a fire extinguisher.”  That movie is called Marry Me.  Its trailer plays every single time I go to the theater, no matter what movie follows.)

I was also worried because my daughter did not like the 1961 West Side Story at all. We watched it a few months ago as part of our Best Picture Project.  (I guess it’s been several months now, more like a year.  We’re watching the Best Picture winners in chronological order, and we’re already up to Crash.)  She liked Rita Moreno, but she was very annoyed to learn that they had to darken her skin to match Natalie Wood’s artificially darkened skin.  Not only did she complain that Natalie Wood was painfully miscast, but she thought Richard Beymer was miscast as Tony, too.  She said repeatedly that he came across as a handsome psychopath.  The movie just wasn’t for her.  (To be fair, we were a bit emotionally numb because my mother had died the week before.  Days after she died, we watched The Apartment (1960’s Best Picture) and connected to it so strongly.  It might have been partially our fault that West Side Story left us cold.)

But guess what?  My daughter loved this new West Side Story.  As we walked out of the movie theater, she raved about how she liked it so much better than the other one.  On the drive home, we listened to the movie soundtrack.  She even tried to convince her father that we should watch the 1961 West Side Story during dinner.  (He was not persuaded by her reasoning that he needed to see that one first so that he would realize how bad it was compared to the new one when he eventually sees the 2021 version.  She didn’t sell it well.  But she and I do intend to watch the older film again.)

The Good:
“That told the story so much better,” my daughter raved in delight. 

“I thought it was easier to follow the emotional arcs of the characters,” I agreed.

“Yeah,” she said.  “It wasn’t so choppy.  You could see character development making the story happen.”  (Part of it, I think, is that a slightly different story is happening.  I think Tony Kushner made outright changes to the plot, but it’s difficult for me to be sure.)

I wish I had seen West Side Story on stage because my only point of comparison is the 1961 film, and (despite the fact that it won Best Picture), I agree with my daughter that this works much better than that.  I don’t know if that’s because this version is able to be more faithful to the original show, or if Tony Kushner made some changes (to the original show) that bring greater clarity to the story. (I suspect it’s the latter.)

The emotional journey of Anita is much clearer (and more tragic) in this version (and her character is one that already works in the 1961 film).  I don’t think I fully appreciated some of the nuance of Anita’s story in the other film.  (I wish I knew how much has been added by Kushner.  My daughter and I really want to watch the earlier movie again now.  I didn’t understand Anita’s character arc as well in that movie.  Did I miss things, or were they not there?  Does Spielberg’s version showcase moments or add them?)

We also can’t remember much about Chino in the earlier film (to the point that my daughter asked, “Is there even a Chino in it?”)  (I’m pretty sure there is, but this new movie makes him a much more memorable, captivating character, not just somebody who gets the gun.)

In this film, the characters seem more clearly defined, and our focus is directed toward them at just the right moments.  They end up with these lovely, showcased journeys.  We get to see not just everything that they’re going through, but also why it should mean something to us.  (And it does mean something to us.  I found it much easier to become invested in these characters.)

Also the musical numbers seemed arranged in a more useful way for serving the story.  (I don’t mean arranged in the musical sense.  I’m referring to when the songs are performed and how they fit into and advance the plot.)  After watching the 1961 Best Picture winner, I read that in that version, the song about Officer Krupke was moved into a later portion of the story to break up the somber mood of the increasingly dark second half with some levity.  I find that decision strange.  In this version, the Officer Krupke number comes earlier on, and our emotions are allowed to build naturally.  (Why interrupt the natural progression of the audience’s response to rising tragedy?) (I mean, that film won Best Picture, so it must have been doing something right, but this way makes more sense to me.)

I’m pretty sure the song “Cool” comes at a different time in this version, too.  In fact (as I remember it) it’s different in pretty much every way and also makes more sense.  (I mean it works within the story more effectively.) 

In Spielberg’s film, the narrative seems cleaner and less encumbered, and nothing artificially breaks up the natural progression of events.  So as a result, my daughter and I lost ourselves in the story more easily and felt much more at the end of this film. 

Please note, if you love the 1961 version, I’m sorry for being so critical of it.  That film is impressive, too, but there’s something cold about it.  I was always noticing the disparate technical elements instead of being moved by them.  (The choreography is stunning!  It made me never want to move again because my own clumsiness is an insult to motion.)  In the 1961 version, I watched and admired things intellectually. I never developed a real attachment to the characters. This time I cared.  Since this is a musical, surely it’s much better to care.  When I love a musical, it’s always because I feel something emotionally.

The casting of Tony and Maria is much better, too (although I keep accidentally finding out about scandals in Ansel Elgort’s personal life, and a friend recently described him as “the potato playing Tony,” so I wouldn’t say his performance is universally acclaimed).  But my daughter didn’t hate him.

“Who played Tony this time?” she asked on the drive home.

“Oh, he’s the one in that movie I haven’t seen, The Fault in Our Stars,” I said, “Ansel Elgort?”

She looked on her phone for a while, then finally declared triumphantly, “That’s it!  He’s the guy from Baby Driver.  And he sings that pop song I used to like.”  A few minutes later, she asked, “Haven’t we have this conversation before?  Like last year!  I remember saying before that he’s in Baby Driver and sings that song I like?”  Then she informed me in shock, “Hey, he is in The Fault in Our Stars!”

“I know!” I said, confused.  “With Shailene Woodley. That’s what I said!”

“You made it sound so uncertain,” she explained.

“My uncertainty doesn’t change his filmography,” I pleaded.

Elgort is pretty good as Tony.  He sings much better than I do (and the songs are lovely).  (“He’s the kind of guy I attract,” my daughter noted.  “I’m nice to him for five minutes at a dance, so he shows up at my house in the middle of the night, and then he’s like, ‘Surprise! I have a knife!’”)  (“But he was okay,” she decreed when I asked her.  “I mean, it’s Tony.  How good could anyone be as Tony?”)

And Rachel Zegler makes a much more convincing Maria than Natalie Wood.  (I really like Natalie Wood.  I’m a huge fan of Miracle on 34^th Street.  But even I don’t think she’s right for that part!) Zegler is probably good enough to be nominated for Best Actress, but I can think of several stronger performances by lead actresses this year, so I don’t know.)

I also liked David Alvarez as Bernardo.  For me, he was kind of a scene stealer with a lot of sparkle.  (I found the character tragic and frustrating but vaguely appealing.  My daughter didn’t like him at all.)

We both loved Mike Faist as Riff, who is one of our favorite characters no matter who plays him.  (When I got home, I learned for the first time that my dad played him (in a dramatic reading) in his high school English class. 

“Were you a Jet?” I asked hopefully when I heard he’d been in West Side Story. 

“Of course,” he replied.  “I was the leader of the Jets!  My name wasn’t Dennis Shark.”)

(This brought back pleasant memories of college when one of my best friends used to snap dance down the dorm hallway at me as I approached, singing, “When you’re a Jet, you’re a Jet all the way!”  Like my dad, I’m a Jett with two Ts, but I still appreciated being heralded with song.)

Faist is so appealing as Riff that he successfully steals scenes from Tony.  I wouldn’t be surprised to see him sneak into Best Supporting Actor.  (That seems plausible for Alvarez, too.)

As I said, Ariana DeBose makes a fantastic Anita and gives the flashiest performance of the film (with the meatiest part), so I’d be surprised if she’s not nominated for Best Supporting Actress.  And more than anything, I love the way that the story has been tweaked slightly to give the Doc part to Rita Moreno, playing Doc’s widow, Valentina.  (I think I’ve already made that pretty clear.)

As always, the choreography is dauntingly impressive.  (This is not the kind of musical you could fake your way through as a non-dancer.)  And, of course, the music of Leonard Bernstein and lyrics of Stephen Sondheim are pretty hard to beat.

Steven Spielberg certainly took his time deciding to direct a musical.  Maybe he didn’t want to tackle a musical until he felt sufficiently prepared to do it right.  (As a kid, I always liked watching Kate Capshaw perform “Anything Goes” at the beginning of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, but I’m sure I was not the person he was worried about impressing.)  Watching this, you would never suspect that the director hadn’t made a musical before.  I’ve seen movie musicals that are so difficult to watch (adapted from wonderful shows).  Often they feel boxed in, claustrophobic.  Sometimes the choreography feels…fragmented?  I mean that the camera jumps all over the place from scene to scene, and the natural momentum and energy of the actors’ movements is lost.  (I don’t know how you fix that, or even how to describe it in precise terms.  I just know that I’ve seen it happen in a lot of movie musicals.)  It doesn’t happen here.  In Spielberg’s West Side Story, there are several musical numbers that occur across multiple locations, but the performers’ energy creates a smooth transition from one location to the next.  Even though we cut away from locations quickly, the performance of the song doesn’t feel fragmented and sapped of energy.

In this version, for example, Anita’s song “America” (a highlight of the 1961 film) happens not up on the rooftop but all over town.  Location changes don’t destroy the natural momentum of the song.  (I’m surprised that the first musical he directed turned out this well, even if he is Steven Spielberg.)  To be perfectly honest, not only does Spielberg improve West Side Story, but the energy of directing a musical also seems to improve Spielberg.  (I’m not suggesting for one second that he isn’t brilliant, but this movie seems to have ten thousand times the explosive energy of other films he’s directed recently.)  I would never have expected Spielberg and Kushner to follow up their collaborations on Munich and Lincoln with this.  (Those were excellent films, too.  I’m just saying this is one is so different.)

Best Scene:
My enjoyment built as I watched this movie.  Early on, I wasn’t convinced that it would be great. (I didn’t ever think it was bad.  It’s just the type of film that has a cumulative effect that builds and builds as it goes.)  I realized I did like it a lot when Tony sang “Maria,” and then they performed the balcony scene.

(“Look how something always separates them!” my daughter whispered gleefully.  “Even now that he finally got up there, he found another way to put something between them!”)

Best Scene Visually:
At many points during the movie, my daughter raved about the use of color.  (“Look how their colors have switched!  Now he’s in the red light, and she’s in the blue light!”) She commented on symbolic use of color (and her love of the bold color scheme in general) time and again.

Best Action Sequence/Most Oscar Worthy Moment (Ariana DeBose/Rita Moreno):
I’ve already said how much I love Anita’s scene in the candy store, much improved by the presence of Valentina.

DeBose is also fantastic in her impassioned “A Boy Like That”/ “I Have a Love” duet with Rachel Zegler.  (That’s good in any version.)

I like DeBose’s performance of “America,” too (also good in any version).

Most Improved Musical Number:
I like the reimagining of “I Feel Pretty” in this version.  It works better.  (The song is always a pleasure to hear because it’s so familiar, but in the 1961 version, you can totally tell that Marni Nixon is the one singing it.  Her voice is so recognizable.  That’s the time when I like Natalie Wood best as Maria, but the way this movie presents the song makes a lot more sense to me.)

“Cool” is also way better in this version because it serves the story better (although the 1961 version is memorable and exhausting just to watch (in a good way).)

The Negatives:
Part of me wonders, “Is it possible that I liked this so much because I was delighted to see my daughter enjoy a film that focused on romance for once?”  (I’m just much more of a romantic than she is.  Even that sketchy Jennifer Lopez/Owen Wilson trailer she hates so much is starting to intrigue me because of the sheer ridiculousness of its premise.  At one point Jennifer Lopez is like, “I’ve started something.  Now I have to finish it.”  Does she?  If she really does have to finish it, she’s someone whose adventures must be pretty entertaining, I would think.)

Part of me also wonders, “Did you just not connect to the 1961 West Side Story emotionally because your mother had just died?”  That’s possible. (It’s so rare that the earlier Best Picture winning version of any story is not the better film.)

Also I must admit that the real reason I would love to see Rita Moreno get an Oscar nomination (even a win!) has more to do with her own story than her performance itself.  (Her performance is good, though.)  Usually there’s something every Oscar season that really excites me, one particular film or performance that becomes more important to me than any of the other nominees.  What I’m most excited about this year is Rita Moreno again appearing in West Side Story, especially when I walked out of the movie feeling such an inexplicable surge of positive emotion.

I’m dying to re-watch the 1961 West Side Story because I feel like I’m being so hard on it.  Usually I love musicals.  I do think the visuals in that film are superior.  I felt like I was watching a series of moving tableaux as we went from scene to scene.  Also, the characters in that film seemed more like they were from the 1960s to me.  (But you see, I’ve only watched the 60s on film and television.  I didn’t experience it.  So I don’t really know.)

Also, even though Valentina is my favorite part of the story, I do wonder if the Jets would so completely embrace and respect her.  (Maybe they would.  After all, they’ve grown up with her.  They respected her husband.  And they are just boys.  If they weren’t, they’d never allow themselves to be shamed by Doc in the 1961 film.  They could easily overpower him.  But they see him as an adult authority figure who cares for them.)

Ansel Elgort seems to be juggling quite a number of sexual-misconduct allegations, too, which is not ideal in a romantic lead.  Then again, Tony’s no saint.  Elgort is probably the weakest part of the movie (which is not great since he’s playing the male lead).  Both Faist and Alvarez are way more interesting to watch.  (I don’t find Elgort very appealing as a romantic lead, but I’m not in my teens or twenties).  (Of course, if his scandals have taught us nothing else, it’s that at least some teenagers find him attractive). Also it seems to me that Zegler is a better singer (but I don’t have the greatest ear).  My daughter still likes Elgort better than Richard Beymer.  (But she finds the character of Tony off-putting and thinks he makes terrible choices, so it doesn’t matter much to her who plays him.)

Overall:
Surely at least Ariana DeBose and Tony Kushner will get Oscar nominations for West Side Story, but I’d love to see Rita Moreno honored in some way, too.  (I suppose the film itself honors her.  There’s that.)  I’d be surprised if this film isn’t nominated for Best Picture (and probably Director).  My daughter and I went in to West Side Story pretty skeptical, but we ended up loving the movie so much.  I have trouble describing why I love it so much.  I’m not even sure I know myself why I love it so much.  (I count that in its favor.) One more thing I’ll note. Some people in the audience with us applauded at the end of the movie. Often when this happens, my daughter rolls her eyes. This time, she clapped, too.