There was a time, not so long ago, when a film like West Side Story would have taken the Oscars for everything they had. On paper, this was everything the Academy loves. Vibrant, classically handsome cinematography? Tick. A revered and unproblematic filmmaker in the twilight of his career? Tick. A general sense of dewy-eyed nostalgia for the Hollywood of yore? You’d better believe that’s a tick. It’s easy to see why Steven Spielberg’s glossy musical adaptation was widely tipped for Oscar glory before anyone had even seen a frame – and the final product doesn’t disappoint.
This new West Side Story is a near-impeccable work of adaptation. Taking the seminal Shakespeare-inflected musical by Leonard Bernstein and Stephen Sondheim and giving it one hell of a spit-shine, Spielberg improves on the canonised 1961 film version in pretty much every way. Aesthetically, it shines: from butter-smooth camera glides to expertly evocative close-ups. Musically, it’s got the edge – and not just because the actors do their own singing this time. There are also small but significant tweaks to modernise the material, including more authentic casting, and a sturdier, more contemporary grasp of the story’s socio-political underpinnings.
