From the very start of Steven Spielberg’s West Side Story, this superb filmmaker distinguishes his spectacular remake from its classic predecessor, and he does it with dirt. The familiar whistle of the overture plays across a quiet construction site, where rubble and ruins give clues to the apartment buildings that once stood there. From the debris emerges the Jets, a scrappy — but handsome — gang of white boys who will rumble with the equally dashing Puerto Rican gang, the Sharks, over this turf. But a simple shot of architecture suggests how futile their fight will be. With a framing of gentrification, helmer Spielberg and heralded screenwriter Tony Kushner give this period drama another layer of tragedy that is achingly timeless. And this is just the first of many magnificent innovations in a truly inspired remake. 

It’s not that there was anything wrong with the 1961 version or the 1957 stage musical on which it’s based. Following in the tradition of theater, Spielberg and Kushner understood that it’s not enough to bring back the book and the songs with a shiny new cast (even if it is one that’s actually cast with Latinx talent in the roles of Puerto Ricans!) This revival was an opportunity to reimagine a classic story in a way that honors what came before but also gives audiences a fresh insight. So back to that construction site: A shrewd cutaway to a “coming soon” billboard reveals that this lot of dirt will give rise to Lincoln Center of the Performing Arts, where — cleverly enough — the film was screened for critics. So, sitting in one of Lincoln Center’s theaters, I became tangibly aware of how these impoverished New Yorkers were fighting each other, when the real threat to their neighborhood were wealthy developers who’d push them out, no matter who wins the rumble. Kushner drives this point home through the snarking Lieutenant Schrank (Corey Stoll), a racist cop who snarls at the Sharks and then mocks the Jets for being “the last of the can’t-do Caucasians.” He breaks up their fights, but urges disharmony all while smirking over the upcoming “slum clearance.”

Two groups of teens face off in the dance floor in 'West Side Story,'


Credit: Niko Tavernise / 2020 Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation

These small touches bring a sense of doom into play, perhaps even if you don’t know this play (or that it’s based on William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet.) The dirt is scattered throughout the film, an omen of a neighborhood coming apart even as it tries to rebuild. Where the 1961 version painted New York with an impressionistic flourish, Spielberg’s Upper West Side is more grounded, moving from dusty basement apartments to bustling sidewalks that spill past sun-battered storefronts and into crowded streets. A rotting dock marred with holes tweaks up the tension in “Cool,” as the Jets bob and dodge these pitfalls while dancing. The muck of urban decay marks the gangs, whose arms and faces are streaked with paint, dirt, and blood even before the end of the first number. 

All this grime makes Maria a brilliant contrast from her first frame. Newcomer Rachel Zegler stands on a fire escape in a crisp white dress, her shining face a beacon in the cramped alleyway. Matching her vibe is pretty boy Ansel Elgort as Tony, whose flawless skin and easy smile hide the Jets’ alumnus’s dark past. The awe that Speilberg has long channeled through childlike wonder toward friendly aliens, mystical McGuffins, and savage sharks (like the actual animals) is here channeled into the wide-eyed awe of young love. When Tony and Maria are together, their world is literally dazzling, thanks in part to Janusz Kaminski’s cinematography, which loves a lens flare to bring a sense of starlight down into gymnasiums or city streets. A date sequence set in the Cloisters proves an inspired addition, giving Tony and Maria a respite from their neighborhood’s fighting and filth. It also grants them a space that matches the pure beauty of their love. This is not to say the rest of the movie is ugly. Sure, there’s squalor. But it’s Spielberg squalor. 

Rachel Zegler as Maria in 'West Side Story' stands in a white dress at a school dance.


Credit: Niko Tavernise / 2020 Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation

West Side Story is alive with color, in its delicately detailed apartments, night scenes lit by the vivid glow of neon shop signs, and costumes that burst with thoughtful flourishes. The dirt is not just backdrop but kicked up as part of the choreography as if it’s a dance partner. Impeccable staging makes the concrete floor of a warehouse into a sort of shadow puppet stage, where the long shadows of two approaching gangs resemble a set of fanged jaws, drawing horridly closed. Even the iconic balcony scene is reconsidered so that the very tall Elgort won’t tower (potentially intimidatingly) over teeny, delicate Zegler. Such thoughtful blocking gives Maria a stronger role in this budding romance.

Subtle but smart changes throughout give the female characters have a greater sense of autonomy: A silent scene of Anita visiting the morgue, a defiant Graziella (Paloma Garcia-Lee) pushing back against the Jets in violent retaliation, and the transformation of Doc’s role, re-imagined to include Rita Moreno, who won an Academy Award for playing Anita in the original West Side Story movie. This time, she is Valentina, Doc’s widow and Tony’s confidante, who has an intimate understanding of interracial romance in this neighborhood. This particularly inspired change is punctuated by Valetina performing “Somewhere.”  This song of hope and regret is so tenderly performed that she’s already generating Oscar buzz. And she’s not alone. 



Rita Moreno gazes out a window to the sky in 'West Side Story,'


Credit: Niko Tavernise / 2020 Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation

Rachel Zegler is a revelation. Her voice is not only beautiful, but also it carries so much emotional weight that her every song is a knockout. Her dark eyes sparkle and draw us into the rapture of falling in love. Radiant in close-up, she shoulders the whirlwind love story with aplomb and astounding screen presence. Yet Ariana DeBose may have had the trickier role as Anita, a character who is fast-talking, funny, ferocious, and ultimately endures horrible heartbreak. On top of all that, DeBose has to perform the role opposite the living legend who originated it onscreen 60 years ago. All this challenge, yet DeBose is divine. Earlier this year, this beguiling triple-threat was a standout as the charming schoolmarm in Schmigadoon!, but with West Side Story DeBose proves she’s a star. In “America” she explodes with energy and charisma, dropping barbs with a sexy smile and swishing her skirt with precise playfulness. In domestic scenes, she’s a mother (or nurse) figure to Maria, devoted but also understandably frustrated. Then, that final act. Her smile shatters, her eyes quivering with tears and rage, she is devastating and captivating. I literally got chills watching Anita’s last stand. 

David Alvarez has crackling chemistry with DeBose as her Bernardo. He suavely blends a softness for sister Maria with a protective passion and a mesmerizing machismo. Plus, he — and Zegler and DeBose and other Sharks — perform in two languages. Their characters slide from English to Spanish and back again throughout the film, giving a deeper reflection of Puerto Rican immigrant culture. In a move that might bring some handwringing, Spielberg doesn’t provide subtitles. Perhaps he felt subtitles would be othering, suggesting this movie is intended for an audience who doesn’t understand Spanish. Perhaps he felt there’s no need, as context clues are enough to communicate the meaning in these dialogue scenes. Perhaps he worried subtitles would distract from the film’s fantastic visuals. Whatever Spielberg’s reasons, he was right. I don’t speak Spanish. I didn’t have any trouble following the scenes, even if I couldn’t follow every line of dialogue. Knowing the plot is likely a help. But the performances here don’t demand that “one-inch tall barrier” to be understood. 

I could go on and on, celebrating this spectacular ensemble. But special attention needs to be paid to Mike Faist, who is absolutely riveting as Riff. From his first crooked grin, Faist encapsulates a distinct brand of New York machismo. He’s wiry, volatile, yet smooth as the pomade. With a lively New Yawk accent, he cracks wise fearlessly. Yet there’s a vulnerability that flashes in his eyes, especially when he talks to Tony. They are more than Jets, maybe more than brothers “womb to tomb.” The way Faist plays the role, I believed Riff is in love with Tony. So, the rumble and Tony’s rejection of it (for Maria) are about much more than gang dominance to Riff. Tony’s attempt to quell the fight cuts much deeper than a switchblade. Through this lens, that final embrace between the two is freshly gutting. 

Ansel Elgort stands in a blazer, while others dance around him in 'West Side Story.'


Credit: Niko Tavernise / 2020 Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation

As Tony, Ansel Elgort is…also in this movie. He’s got a pretty face and a pretty voice and is a graceful dancer. And yet, the Baby Driver star doesn’t match the level of this ensemble of lesser-knowns. If they’re playing Broadway, he’s in a high school production. He’s not bad. He’s aggressively fine. He’s just not spectacular. Elgort can make the Spielberg Face, but there’s something missing in his eyes. Instead of sincerely awe-struck, he seems like he’s posing. His casting feels like a misplayed note. Otherwise, though, West Side Story is rapturous.


It’s cliche to say of a great film ‘this is why we go to the movies.’ But…This is why we go to the movies. 

Award-winning playwright Tony Kushner’s sophisticated adapted screenplay deepens character development and frames the central battle against an ominous backdrop from its first moment. Steven Spielberg is at the top of his game, delivering a musical marvel that is overflowing with emotion and visual splendor. The songs are gorgeous as ever. The dance numbers are astonishing, not only in the talents of their performers but also in a sublime synergy of cinematography and editing that truly relishes in the movement of camera and subject. Banished are the frenzied quick cuts and close-ups that cut off a dancer’s exquisitely extended limbs. Here, the cuts are seamless and splendid. 

It’s cliche to say of a great film “this is why we go to the movies.” But when the theater throbs with a rousing song, the audience is entranced by a star-making performance, and your body is rippling with chills from the sublime power of cinema, what else can you say? This is why we go to the movies. 

West Side Story opens in theaters on Dec. 10.

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