Story keeps its moves

A favorite of the American musical theater is being recreated on stage at The Walnut Street Theatre.

West Side Story marked the star-crossed collaboration of Leonard Bernstein’s music, Arthur Laurents’ book, Stephen Sondheim’s lyrics (for his first Broadway show) and Jerome Robbins’ choreography. These elements account for the continuing appetite to see this musical on stage.

The 1957 musical, inspired by Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, tells the sad tale of warfare between rival Puerto Rican and Anglo gangs in New York and the young lovers tragically caught in the middle. The gritty mix of sex, violence and death wedded to a brilliant score, sharply crafted lyrics and the jaw-dropping choreography was a shock to audiences. Accustomed to musicals made primarily of cotton candy, this was a brutal and beautiful slice of life.

But times have changed.

Wars seem dirtier, stories of infanticide, patricide and genocide hit the papers almost daily and the ever-more violent gang wars of today are usually between groups of the same ethnicity. Shows such as Evita, Sweeney Todd, Miss Saigon and Rent have pushed the envelope of reality so far that a production of West Side Story has to dig deep into what is great and relevant about the show to keep it from seeming dated and quaint.

The book contains timeless observations on the tragic consequences of prejudice and the plight of inner-city youth. These connect with the heart and mind far more effectively than any morality play cobbled together to teach at-risk teens the error of their ways. The music and lyrics are some of the best written for the 20th-century American stage.

The story is as ugly as today’s street wars, but is also tender and forgiving. The play finds bits of beauty in a wasteland of discontent. The Walnut’s interpretation is an accomplished production that incorporates tension, hostility and confusion. The large cast renders a terse, vigorous depiction of rebels lost in a fantasy of hatred and revenge. Directed by Bruce Lumpkin, the work is clearly focused. Everything contributes to the total impression of wildness, ecstasy and anguish.

While critics raved at the 1950s’ opening, West Side Story was a little too advanced for the times. It wasn’t until the 1961 movie version that the score really entered the public consciousness.

Decades later, how does the old show stand up? Pretty well is the answer. The shock impact may be gone and the sociology may be suspect, but the score is a cracker, the choreography still dazzles and the dramatic structure is sound. It helps, of course, that Shakespeare supplied the basic plot. In one sense, Laurents’ book even improves on the original. In Shakespeare’s version, the deaths of the hero and heroine depend on the notoriously erratic Italian postal service.

Here, the false information about Maria’s death is only imparted because go-between Anita is assaulted and all-but-raped in Doc’s drugstore: the climactic tragedy is brought about by circumstance and character rather than by a piece of plot manipulation. Where West Side Story now looks somewhat shaky is in its equivocal attitude towards the gang warfare between the Jets and the Sharks.

The show’s most famous comic number, Gee, Officer Krupke, also implies these kids know how to press the right buttons and run rings round shrinks and social workers. In short, the show treats the kids as both victims and exploiters.

West Side’s theatrical substance is realized not in a talked plot but in moving bodies. The characters act and react in terms of movement, which is the most direct medium to convey their inner feelings.

Michelle Gaudette uses dance as an important dramatic element, fusing the choreography into the story with a drive, bounce and restlessness that moves it along.

The fight scenes have a swiftness of motion and technical assurance. John Farrell’s scenic design effectively creates the atmosphere of sinister streets and playgrounds. Douglass Lutz’s orchestrations have Bernstein’s frenetic rhythms of jazz, while mustering the energetic beat of Latin music. The language is hard-hitting and explosive, but not vulgar or profane.

Christina DeCicco is maidenly soft and glowing as Maria. She performs with a girlish ardor that is sweet and touching. Michael Gillis offers a Tony that is plain in speech and manner with a boyish fidelity and openness that are equally affecting. His singing voice is marginal.

Michelle Aravena is electric as she captures Anita’s toughness. She has a credible singing voice.

Jenny Lee Ramos gives a wonderful earthiness to the role of Anybody’s.

Rebecca Brancato is luminous in the minor role of Rosalia. Ron Nahass and Colin Cunliffe lend their pulsating excitement to the chaos as the rival gang leaders. Lee Golden turns in a first-rate performance as the troubled Doc, while the heavyset John Peakes is an unconvincing Officer Krupke.

The score is loaded with memorable songs such as America, Tonight, Somewhere, When You’re A Jet, I Feel Pretty, Something’s Coming, Maria and Gee, Officer Krupke. On opening night, the sound system was out of sync – the lyrics could not be heard clearly and, consequently, the songs lacked their usual emotional punch.

In this passionate Walnut production, the gangs, the girls, the drug-store proprietor, the welfare worker – are all in their right places submitting to the virulent rhythms of the performance.

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West Side Story
through July 24
Walnut Street Theatre
825 Walnut St.
Tickets: $10-$65
215-574-3550 or www.wstonline.org