Steven Spielberg’s West Side Story is a remake of Robert Wise’s 1961 classic musical, which was itself an adaptation of the 1957 stage musical. Inspired by Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, it centers on star-crossed lovers Maria (Rachel Zegler) and Tony (Ansel Elgort). Recently released from prison, Tony is a former member of the Jets, a white gang led by his best friend Riff (Mike Faist). Unfortunately, Maria’s older brother Bernardo (David Alvarez) leads the Sharks, a Puerto Rican gang who are the Jets’ sworn enemies.
The plot follows the original closely. Every great song, every laugh, and every heartbreaking moment is here. The rich script (penned by Tony Kushner) utilizes the expectations of cinematic and societal structures to compound the joys and tragedies of the classic story, so even those that know these beats by heart will find new life in the way it explores the expectations of family, race, friendship, gender and culture at large.
One way the film explores this is through language. The Spanish dialogue is without subtitles, so as to, as Spielberg said, not give, “English the power over the Spanish.” Who speaks what language and when is an integral part of the drama. Take, for instance, an argument Bernardo has with Maria and his girlfriend Anita (Ariana Debose). It’s a delectably written and performed scene, juggling different gender-based and personal dynamics. For instance, Bernardo argues that if Maria lives under his roof, he must follow her rules. His point is rendered null when Maria points out she also pays rent.
But Anita is where language becomes a major factor, as she repeatedly reminds the siblings to speak English. At first, Bernardo complies, but not long after each reminder, habit and the heat of the moment bring him back to Spanish. She reminds him to speak English, he frustratedly complies, frustration brings him back to Spanish, and the cycle starts over. At one point, Bernardo says something in Spanish. He briefly stops himself, and looks at Anita with regret. We’re meant to think that he regrets not speaking English, until Anita starts chastising him in Spanish. Anita’s not upset at the language he said it in, she’s upset at what he said.
It’s a funny moment, made less funny by a scene near the climax, where Lieutenant Schrank (Corey Stoll) interrogates Anita and Maria over the increased violence between the gangs. Maria says something in Spanish to get past Schrank’s ears, but he reveals he can also speak Spanish….and tells them to speak in English anyway. Through these two scenes, the film uses language to establish the dichotomy of oppressor and oppressed. Anita reminds Bernardo and Maria to speak English to survive, and Schrank is exactly who they need to survive.
Of course, West Side Story is a musical, and a glorious one. It’s also Steven Spielberg’s first musical, and the maestro’s instincts with spectacle and blocking are on full display, understanding that these sequences are integral extensions of the characters and drama.
One such example is the song “Cool.” In the remake, it’s centered on Tony and Riff, as the former tries to stop Riff from bringing a gun to a rumble with the Sharks. The sequence starts as a game of keep away, but escalates to a tense showdown. No longer playfully dancing, the lifelong friends enter a near life and death struggle over the weapon.
Another great example of correlating dance with drama is a school dance. The respective gangs see it as a time to meet boys and girls of their own race. The dance chaperones see it as a time to enforce a hollow, “can’t we all just get along,” form of anti-racism. Initially, they seem like your run-of-the-mill grown-ups who just don’t understand, until one of them tells a Shark to, “speak English at school events”, even when speaking to their own friends.
The Sharks see through the “anti-racist” charade, and whether or not the Jets are aware of the chaperone’s subtly racist intentions, they agree with the Sharks on one thing: they want nothing to do with their enemies. When the chaperone tries to make a game out of mixing the gangs, Maria’s date, Chino (Josh Andres Rivera), holds her back, protecting her from the Jets. But she doesn’t want to be held back. She wants to dance anyway she can, because her “protector” said no, she has no choice.
However, after the chaperone’s plan is foiled, Chino seems to leave Maria behind to enter the dance floor, devastating her. “How dare he? The man who told me I couldn’t dance is now dancing himself?” But this devastation soon gives way to elation, because Chino may have entered the dance floor on his own, but only so he could enthusiastically, delightfully invite Maria to join him through dance. He just wanted to prove himself, not to deny Maria of those joys. This moment is magnificent, capturing the tragedy of the film. It’s full of people like Chino, flawed kids making flawed decisions, but underneath these socially enforced insecurities is a boy who just wants to dance with his pretty date.
These socially enforced insecurities remain, though, and prove poisonous to the simple curiosity Maria and Tony have for each other. When the two lovers at the center of the film meet, it feels less like love at first sight than it does simple curiosity, but even this mere curiosity is shown disdain by their respective families. So, the socially enforced insecurities initially win out.
This all captures the core dichotomy of the film. It’s a musical tragedy. Its joys are just as inherent as its sorrows. That these sorrows, insecurities and structures inadvertently craft the joys doesn’t mean we should celebrate them in and of themselves. But we should understand how they warp good people, so that we may separate their good from their bad and help them when they inflict harm.
The ending is where this beautiful tragedy is at its most beautifully tragic. An unspeakable horror from the Jets leads to an angry, sympathetic lie from Anita. From this comes a domino effect, culminating in an event that irreparably shatters both worlds. The gangs can and will pick up the pieces, but the damage done can never be undone. But despite the tragedy, despite the irreversible damage, Tony and Maria embrace in the rubble. And from this embrace also comes a domino effect, culminating in the two gangs picking up those few remaining pieces, together.
West Side Story doesn’t condone the tragedy. It merely sympathizes with it, and it’s because of this sympathy that the joys of dancing and embracing are saved.
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