Tribute To a Classic

2001 marks the 40th anniversary of the release of "West Side Story." To this day, it remains my favorite work of art. I know there are better films, but none moves me as much as this modern retelling of Romeo and Juliet. My sister gave me the soundtrack at Christmas in 1962. I was twelve. I still have it, although it is heavily scarred, unplayable. I now have a cassette. I know the lyrics by heart, although it was many years before I was able to discern phrases such as: "...terrible time in America...." I sang along each time I spun it, playing all the parts, much to the neighbors chagrin, I'm sure. I have the timber of Vito Corleone. I've been called "Godfather," or "Gotfotta," as it is pronounced by some Brooklynites.

I've never had the privilege of seeing a stage production. I pray Broadway will soon host a revival. Never has a literary classic lent itself so well to adaption. Other Shakespearean works have been modernized, but none approaches this masterpiece. From the moment Russ Tamblyn begins snapping his fingers until the heartbreaking finale, it rings with a beauty and poignancy for which all artists strive. Sure, most of the cast members are too old, but that has always been a problem in Hollywood's depiction of youth ("Rebel Without a Cause" "Blackboard Jungle"). I doubt it would have been possible to assemble a cast of teenagers capable of executing the requisite dance routines.

Sure, the dialogue is dated, as friends often remark. Well, isn't the language of Shakespeare dated? Yet the work is still relevant today, 400 years later, translated into almost every language known to man, now playing and discussed in every corner of the globe. And my guess is that "West Side Story" will also be appreciated centuries from now. The story is timeless, the insight into the human condition keen, the artistry magnificent.

Sure, people don't break into song and dance while walking down the street. I got so annoyed during a viewing of a re-release off-campus circa 1970. A female student clucked at the start of each number. What had she expected? One must suspend belief to enjoy a musical. One should know that before entering the theater. Art is larger than life, and never larger than in a musical.

Sure, Natalie Wood was not Latin. In fact, she feared she was miscast herself. I disagree. Her radiance alone more than fills the bill of an immigrant excited by America. And her soliloquy during the finale is gut-wrenching, despite an imperfect accent. She is adorable, the definitive Maria, despite having had her singing voice dubbed by Marni Nixon. And I will fight anyone who says not - I mean it! She was one of my early loves. How disappointed I was when I discovered she was a smoker, not perfect like Maria.

I never had the privilege of seeing Carol Lawrence, who originated the role, other than in a brief clip on an Ed Sullivan rerun. I'm sure she was great, although she wasn't/isn't Latin, either. Sadly, her work lives only in the memories of those who witnessed it. As far as I know, it is not available on videotape. And to those who claim the work portrays Puerto Ricans in a stereotypical light - I know Puerto Ricans who love it - so there! When playing Sharks and Jets as a child, to be different, I was always a Shark. I've always felt like an outsider, anyway. My deep tan, in the days when we weren't afraid of the sun, invited invective.

When viewing the film, I wonder if Shakespeare envisioned the future. How else can one explain the natural, perfect transition from the Capulet party to the Dance at the Gym, the swordfight to the Rumble and, best of all, the balcony to the fire escape? Are you kidding me?

And has there ever been a more rousing score than Leonard Bernstein's? Somehow, in a classical vein, he communicated the jazz/rock tempo of the age. And has there ever been a musical with lyrics more penetrating than Stephen Sondheim's? There is not a single throwaway song. "Officer Krupke" is satiric genius, lampooning several theories on delinquency and coming full circle to "...just no damn good...." And has there ever been a couplet that more accurately describes how blind one can be emotionally than: "...When love comes so strong/ There is no right or wrong...." ("I Have a Love"). Sure, it is hard to believe Maria would make love to, run away with, her brother's murderer, but bizarre things have always happened in the name of love. Maria and Tony are romantics, fighting the reality of ghetto life personified by the animosity between the Sharks and the Jets. For many years I deplored hyperbole in love songs (I've since changed). "Maria" and "Tonight" were exceptions. They've always worked for me because they reflect the idealism of young love, while the brilliant "America" and "Officer Krupke" represent the profound cynicism the lovers face. And the "Tonight Medley" blends all the emotions together. It gets my blood pumping like no other musical piece.

And the dancing has a modern feel unlike that in any prior film musical. In his choreography, Jerome Robbins captured, made high art of, the hormonal conflicts of youth. The Prologue is a thrilling panorama of horseplay culminating in a fight. I wish I had a nickel for every time I'd seen that on the street. The Dance at the Gym teems with earthy sensuality, "America" with an elegant one. And "Cool," its setting a sparsely-lit garage, has the cramped, pulsating edginess of urban life. Friends argue that the action is over-choreographed. "They fight like sissies," said many of my childhood buddies. I admit that at times during the Prologue the dance moves do seem odd, out of place, but only briefly. No work, however great, is perfect, and all are open to subjective interpretation , even to clucking.

Given that "West Side Story" was one of the few joys of my youth, I may be utterly incapable of an objective opinion about it. To me, it is the world's greatest work of art, combining music, dance, story and theme as no piece before or since it. As headlines too often bear out, in the end hatred wins the day, love loses. It is a tragic truth that endures, that plagues too many, one touchingly expressed when Baby John drapes the shawl over the kneeling, devastated, madonna-like Maria. I salute the army of immensely talented collaborators who did the unimaginable - they outdid Shakespeare. Is there a greater accomplishment in art?

What do you think?

Mirisch Pictures/Robert Wise/United Artists 1961
Director: Jerome Robbins/Robert Wise
From the Book by: Arthur Laurents
From the Play by: Robert E. Griffith/Arthur Laurents/Harold S. Prince
Screenplay by: Ernest Lehman
Score by Leonard Bernstein/Stephen Sondheim
Choreography by: Jerome Robbins

Close to the Edge
You are welcome to read excerpts of my book, Closer to the Edge, a suspense thriller about fears and insecurities in dating, and one man's solution.