Steven Spielberg summons ‘West Side Story’ ghosts

THE OPINION OF THE “WORLD” – WHY NOT

A curious project to bring back to the screen a musical of which there is already a cinematographic version considered canonical in the history of the genre, and in the light of which, with all due respect to the great talent of Steven spielberg, we run the risk of being inevitably judged. The initial show was created by the composer Leonard bernstein, the lyricist Stephen Sondheim and the librettist Arthur Laurents on the Broadway stage in 1957, derived from Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare. But this is the film that the prolific drew from it Robert wise in 1961 – with Natalie Wood, Richard Beymer and George Chakiris – who determined the worldwide success of the work (in France, the title remained on the bill for four years when it was released).

Why tackle such a mountain? Homage to the work? Nostalgia for his younger years? Willingness to make it accessible to younger generations? Ambition to measure up to a myth? Probably a bit of all of that. Let us admit, however, that we left the two and a half hours of this show with the feeling that the film did not provide any satisfactory answer to these questions.

Remember the plot of this classic. In a New York slum on the brink of destruction, two gangs clash, fighting over this ridiculous territory. The Jets, native of the land and failures of economic success, and the Sharks, latinos Puerto Rican recently installed who contest their possession. Tony, one of the founders of the Jets, who is sidelined, falls head over heels in love with Maria, who is none other than the sister of Bernardo, the leader of the Sharks. This connection inflames the hatred between the two gangs. And will be fatal to the main protagonists of the story, by virtue of a gear where stupidity disputes it with fate.

Shiny digital varnish

There is, in truth, a whole network of motives organically linked to the 1960s: the beginning of the gentrification of New York, the awareness of the failures of the melting pot, the denunciation of racism and violence. And until the hope that this situation can be reversed. No doubt, as these evils have worsened, Spielberg gives the work a darker tone. Look at the two Bernardos: George Chakiris was in Wise the personification of elegant and poisonous grace; David Alvarez, at Spielberg, embodies the obtuse malfeasance of a low-forehead boxer.

Likewise, the final reconciliation of the two rival gangs over Tony’s corpse takes place in the author of Duel (1971) a decidedly sepulchral dimension. Far from the precarious balance – between death and life, derealizing stylization and social engagement, worry and fantasy – which made the vitalist originality of Robert Wise’s film, that of Steven Spielberg is embalmed by contemporary melancholy. The gleaming digital varnish that freezes the textures and the flesh, the synthetic workmanship that makes it look like a cartoon, the constant change of scale in the shots chopping small the unfolding of the choreographies, the camera in perpetual demonstration of lack of mastery ipso facto what it would be important to frame, the anachronism of all this enterprise, finally, contribute to considerably slow down the enthusiasm.

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