Film Review: West Side Story ('21, Dir: Steven Spielberg)

 

West Side Story (2021)

Written by Tony Kushner; Music by Leonard Bernstein and Lyrics by Stephen Sondheim 

Directed by Steven Spielberg 

The original West Side Story is widely regarded as one of the great film musicals of all time, winning 10 Academy Awards and standing strongly in the minds of fans and audiences since its release in 1961. Although certain elements have aged poorly from a social and casting standpoint, it has in most ways stood the test of time. Whether you consider this new film a remake or a new adaptation of the similarly well-regarded stage musical, there is no denying the baggage and expectations of creating a new version of something that is so beloved. How do you approach this Herculean task? Who would be bold enough to attempt this? Enter Steven Spielberg. 

I'm not going to beat around the bush. Mr. Spielberg and his incredible team of collaborators have knocked this out of the park. This isn't a simple home run. This is a damn grand slam. The type of hit that makes you stand up and cheer until you've lost your voice. This is cinema musical magic. This movie moves, it sings, it leaves you breathless. There is a fluidity to the motion and movement and timing of this film that is the work of a true master. It is easy to forget that Spielberg is one of the greatest filmmakers of all time. It's easy to take him for granted, to be cynical and accuse him of being a populist who deals in schmaltz. I say to hell with that. Not all of his recent efforts have been as great as his classics, but even a decent Spielberg film is better than a lot of the mediocre work that gets released every week. But this? This West Side Story? This is one of the greatest films of his career. He's often talked about wanting to make a musical, having dabbled with a few musical numbers in other films, and in many ways it feels like his entire work as a filmmaker has been building to West Side Story. The magnitude of that statement should not go unnoticed. 

Working with playwright Tony Kushner once again (he collaborated with Spielberg on both Munich and Lincoln, two excellent films) proves to be an apt choice. This film takes the source material and expands on the emotional texture and re-contextualizes certain songs, adjusting their meaning or placement within the story, and every choice proves to be thoughtful in design and intent. Allowing Anybodys (beautifully played by Iris Menas) to have a more deliberate impact and a clear trans identity, for example, adds depth to a small role that could have easily been ignored. Creating the character of Valentina (in replacement of Doc) not only serves to give a role to original film cast member Rita Moreno, who won an Oscar as Anita and who is soulful and vital in this film (another Oscar, perhaps?) but also gives the film an adult Puerto Rican character who has lived through the shifts and changes in America and is able to serve as a spiritual advisor to all of the young characters in the story. Kushner and Spielberg dive deeper into the themes of gentrification amidst a changing Manhattan and the impact that has on cultural identity and the desire to find one's place in a world and society that has all but left them behind. 

The film's opening, an immaculate, near wordless sequence, shows the cranes and rubble of a Lincoln Square that is shifting from a small cultural neighborhood into high end apartments and shops (which it still is to this day,) is a clear indicator not only of the themes the film will be exploring but also of the mastery of craft on display. Steven Spielberg and his long-time cinematographer Janusz Kaminski have all but outdone themselves. Every shot in this film, every camera movement, every angle, every lighting choice is impeccable and fueled by a conscious intent to serve the story and the characters. There are simple moments of visual design and staging that had me shaking my head in pure wonder. The use of color and costume and the integrity and breadth of the set design lend to form a complete vision. The musical numbers and dance sequences, stunningly choreographed by Justin Peck with enough homage to Jerome Robbin's iconic original choreography but with its own personality and in some cases choices that better serve the intent of the lyric and the music, are as well shot and designed as any I have seen in a musical - danced and performed to perfection. Numbers like Dance at the Gym and Gee, Officer Krupke and Jet Song are spectacular. 

Running underneath all of this gorgeous craft is a vitality of life and a purity of emotion that truly takes this film into the stratosphere. There is such a clear passion from not only Spielberg and his filmmaking team but from the cast that is a delight to behold. Mike Faist, David Alvarez, and Josh Andres Rivera are fantastic as Riff, Bernardo, and Chino respectively, bringing humanity and pathos to these well known characters. Alvarez brings a gravitas and strength to Bernardo that extends far beyond his years. Faist is so unique as Riff, bubbling with an undercurrent of rage and charm, always choosing the right facial expression and physicality. And the man dances beautifully, of course. Putting the, ahem, issues aside, Ansel Elgort is quite good as Tony, brooding and singing well. That he's the weakest of the main cast just speaks to how sensational everyone else is. But ultimately this film is about the women. In both Rachel Zegler as Maria and Ariana DeBose as Anita we have two overwhelming, lightning in a bottle performances that I'll likely never forget. Making her film debut, Zegler is sweet and adorable as Maria, the perfect youthful ingenue, singing like an angel, until it becomes time to do the emotional heavy lifting. Some of her moments in the final act had me sobbing with their power. This is a once in a generation debut performance. Ariana DeBose is a powder keg of sass and strength and magnetism. America, with slightly adjusted lyrics, is the ultimate showstopper of the film, thanks in no small part to DeBose. 

I have seen Steven Spielberg's West Side Story twice now, and I have no doubt that I will see it at least a few more times before it leaves theaters. It is a complete and resplendent work of cinema, fueled by passion, emotion, visual splendor, and meticulous filmmaking. From the first frame to the last it engages on every level in the way only the best cinema can. Spielberg has nothing left to prove after the career that he has had and yet here, with his 33rd feature film, he just sort of casually reminds us that he's one of the best to ever do it. What a sight to behold.