"West Side Story," the stage musical that shocked audiences in 1957 with its portrayal of gang warfare, made its way to the big screen four years later, still carrying the risqué charm of its origin. However, watching it now feels like a journey into "entertaining camp." The sight of juvenile delinquents twirling about and tossing around antiquated phrases like "daddy-o" may have been daring back then, but for a modern audience, it's more eye-roll-inducing than impactful.
Even in its original release, the notion of gang members scheduling their rumbles with a sense of premeditated formality stretched credulity. And in that pivotal scene where they actually heed the advice of a supposed mentor figure named "Doc" to avoid assaulting Anita - it's a hard pill to swallow. The idea that these street toughs had a wise elder guiding them feels like a far-fetched concept, even in the context of the 1960s.
The much-touted romance between Tony and Maria, at the heart of the narrative, falls disappointingly flat. Their love at first sight, forged during a dance where they seemingly know nothing about each other, strains credibility from the outset. Even with Spielberg's attempt to give Tony a backstory in the reboot, spending time in an upstate prison does little to enrich his character.
The 1961 film outshines Spielberg's revival in one aspect - concise and to-the-point dialogue scenes, accompanied by the underscoring of Leonard Bernstein's powerful musical themes. We don't watch "West Side Story" for its plot intricacies; instead, we indulge in the captivating music, Stephen Sondheim's clever lyrics, and Jerome Robbins' sensational choreography.
Critics may grumble about the film's departure from the stage musical's song order, and while Spielberg's decision in the reboot to swap "Cool" with a Tony-Riff dynamic makes sense, the same cannot be said for the rearrangement of "Somewhere" which the original got right. Despite these hiccups, personal highlights remain, including The Jets' song infused with Sondheim's clever wit, Robbins' innovative choreography in "America," and the satirical gem "Gee Officer Krupke," humorously skewering therapists and social workers in each version.
Natalie Wood commands attention as the enamored Maria, outshining Richard Beymer's Tony, who lacks the star power to match his leading lady. George Chakiris as Bernardo convincingly leads the Sharks, and Russ Tamblyn's Riff strikes a balance without overplaying his hand. Special mention goes to Rita Moreno, perfect as Anita, Maria's confidante, and Bernardo's girlfriend.
The narrative follows a predictable path with the inevitable demise of both gang leaders during the rumble. Maria's ardor for Tony, even after he kills her brother, feels more bewildering than poignant. The standout moment occurs in the second act when the tormented Anita falsely claims Chino killed Maria, leading to Tony's tragic demise.
As the film concludes with Tony's death supposedly bringing peace to the warring gangs, suspending disbelief becomes a necessity. Is it a genuine resolution, or just a temporary truce? Don't come to "West Side Story" for its dated dialogue or implausible story. Instead, revel in the music and dancing that promise endless entertainment.
Even in its original release, the notion of gang members scheduling their rumbles with a sense of premeditated formality stretched credulity. And in that pivotal scene where they actually heed the advice of a supposed mentor figure named "Doc" to avoid assaulting Anita - it's a hard pill to swallow. The idea that these street toughs had a wise elder guiding them feels like a far-fetched concept, even in the context of the 1960s.
The much-touted romance between Tony and Maria, at the heart of the narrative, falls disappointingly flat. Their love at first sight, forged during a dance where they seemingly know nothing about each other, strains credibility from the outset. Even with Spielberg's attempt to give Tony a backstory in the reboot, spending time in an upstate prison does little to enrich his character.
The 1961 film outshines Spielberg's revival in one aspect - concise and to-the-point dialogue scenes, accompanied by the underscoring of Leonard Bernstein's powerful musical themes. We don't watch "West Side Story" for its plot intricacies; instead, we indulge in the captivating music, Stephen Sondheim's clever lyrics, and Jerome Robbins' sensational choreography.
Critics may grumble about the film's departure from the stage musical's song order, and while Spielberg's decision in the reboot to swap "Cool" with a Tony-Riff dynamic makes sense, the same cannot be said for the rearrangement of "Somewhere" which the original got right. Despite these hiccups, personal highlights remain, including The Jets' song infused with Sondheim's clever wit, Robbins' innovative choreography in "America," and the satirical gem "Gee Officer Krupke," humorously skewering therapists and social workers in each version.
Natalie Wood commands attention as the enamored Maria, outshining Richard Beymer's Tony, who lacks the star power to match his leading lady. George Chakiris as Bernardo convincingly leads the Sharks, and Russ Tamblyn's Riff strikes a balance without overplaying his hand. Special mention goes to Rita Moreno, perfect as Anita, Maria's confidante, and Bernardo's girlfriend.
The narrative follows a predictable path with the inevitable demise of both gang leaders during the rumble. Maria's ardor for Tony, even after he kills her brother, feels more bewildering than poignant. The standout moment occurs in the second act when the tormented Anita falsely claims Chino killed Maria, leading to Tony's tragic demise.
As the film concludes with Tony's death supposedly bringing peace to the warring gangs, suspending disbelief becomes a necessity. Is it a genuine resolution, or just a temporary truce? Don't come to "West Side Story" for its dated dialogue or implausible story. Instead, revel in the music and dancing that promise endless entertainment.