Revisiting the West Side: Broadway’s met a girl named Maria

With the ominous echo of one finger-snap, a hoodlum captivates the cavernous Palace Theater.

An instant sense of urgency radiates through the theater, antsy with high expectations for this latest revival of the revolutionary classic West Side Story, which opened last Thursday.

Infused with new fervor, the production takes the revamped Romeo and Juliet—now Tony and Maria—one step further in both authenticity and theatrical passion. Thanks to Arthur Laurent’s masterful direction (at the impressive age of 91, no less), the mosaic of villainous gangs and forbidden love creates a show that no one should miss.

Immediately commanding the entire stage with that single ricocheted snap, Cody Green—who plays Riff—established the show’s aura and summoned his Jets as leader of their gang.

Claiming their turf, the Jets seamlessly glided into the precision of Jerome Robbins’ original choreography­, restaged by Joey McKneely. They floated over an Upper West Side street corner, only to be jolted by the challenging presence of Bernardo, played by George Akram, and his fellow Puerto Rican Sharks.

Dramatic leaps, mocking body language, and sweeping masses of gangsters choreographically attacking each other reproduced the violence of the dingy streets and Robbins’ active choice to employ dance as the primary medium to communicate the full-blown hatred between the Jets and Sharks. After years of productions gradually casting aside the dance of musical theater, West Side Story revived the art form in one gulp of much needed air.

The unbelievable precision of choreography throughout the show visually emphasized the pervasive oneness of gang mentality through two very distinct styles of movement­—Latin for the Sharks and lyrical jazz for the Jets. Though Robbins’ choreography was originally quite subtle and, yes, lyrical, this generation of dancers modernized the presentation with a punching meticulousness.

West Side Story used the power of the classic to reassert the necessity of a prestigious standard of theater and dance traditionally characteristic of Broadway that over the years has been slipping. With the incredible dancing talent of the cast and vocal ability to match, the production is not only the revival of West Side Story, but also of the triple threat.

Twenty-one-year-old newcomer Josefina Scaglione illuminated the stage with her lovable innocence as the young star-crossed lover, Maria. Her operatic training lends the soprano the vocal strength to carry the role, but also infused Scaglione’s ability to exude emotion through Stephen Sondheim’s lyrics. Her voice lingered in the air like a lullaby in both “Tonight” and “One Hand, One Heart,” beautifully complementing the strong vibrato of co-star Matt Cavenaugh’s Tony.

But Scaglione’s ability to convey emotion was not limited to her song. Whether fancifully dreaming of her wedding night, reprimanding elders for blatant insensitivity, or mourning her lover’s death with tears pelting his body, Scaglione drew in her audience and yanked on their heartstrings, compelling them to identify with her every whim.

Though Cavenaugh’s harmonizing vocals impressed—emoting through gentle falsetto, a sweet lower register and a vigorous but well-used belt—his acting was far too inconsistent. While he adeptly played a hopelessly-in-love Tony, the blinding rage that allegedly overcomes him at the sight of the death of his best friend, Riff, appeared contrived.

Karen Olivo gave the true standout performance as Bernardo’s girlfriend, Anita. She commanded the stage with her maturity, both in her character and experience as a performer. From the moment she hit the stage, her comedic timing bit and her sassy attitude shone through. Olivo’s powerhouse vocals enlivened Leonard Bernstein’s well-known “America,” and deeply resonated in the newly Spanish version of “A Boy Like That,” now “Un Hombre Así.”

While Olivo brought maturity and truthfulness to the stage, so did the infusion of Spanish dialogue and lyrics, unique to this production. The Sharks spoke Spanish everywhere they naturally would.

Though mixed opinions have prevailed regarding audience accessibility, and at times the change in lyrics seemed to detract from the original poeticism of Sondheim, the Spanish translations provided by In the Heights scribe Lin-Manuel Miranda truly heightened the emotional depth of the show. It preserved the feisty attitude of the Sharks, further defining their separate world within the Upper West Side while escorting the presence of Spanish in our America to the artistic forefront.

David C. Woolard’s costumes reflected this theme of separation—Jets were flecked in orange rust and Sharks were coated in deep purple, as in the original production. The vast brilliance of color, especially in “Dance at the Gym,” flooded the stage, inciting excitement and competition and offsetting the appropriately dreary pallet of James Youmans’ decisively simple sets.

But the styles in the costuming­, especially for the girls, portrayed conflicting time periods. This may have been an attempt to portray the timeless quality of the story, but it was slightly too ambiguous and sparse to read as a conscious choice rather than an accident.
While the love story of Tony and Maria truly is ageless, the current revival of West Side Story commits to timeliness, talent, and truth.

Tags: Arts & Entertainment, Ruthie Fierberg