At 91, Arthur Laurents seems endowed with better acuity, instincts and vitality than most Americans one-fourth his age. At least, that's the impression one draws from his mostly exhilarating revival of West Side Story, which Laurents has brought back to Broadway somewhere in between reviving an award-winning of production of Gypsy and skiing in St. Moritz. The West Side Story that opened Thursday night at the gigantic old Palace Theater is traditional where it matters—faithfully recreating Jerome Robbins's transporting choreography—and unorthodox where it doesn't; some scenes, for example, are performed almost entirely in Spanish without supertitles.
Of course, Laurents wrote the book, so he's entitled to take chances, and for the most part the risks pay off. Even English-speaking audiences familiar with the uncomplicated melodrama—a retelling of Romeo and Juliet with adolescent New York gangs (Polish vs. Puerto Rican) replacing the Montagues and Capulets—may find themselves frustrated by a couple scenes, but that frustration is most likely intentional, as a way of literalizing the immigrant alienation (not to mention marketing the revival to a Latino demographic that's been turning out for In the Heights, whose creator, Lin-Manuel Miranda, did the English-to-Spanish translation here). Unfortunately, Laurents doesn't do anything radical about West Side Story's lopsided two act structure, which dissipates most of the dramatic tension by intermission, leaving a second half that grows increasingly maudlin.
Joan Marcus
As Maria, Argentinian actress Josefina Scaglione is an angelic embodiment of pure grace, with a dazzling smile and irresistible voice. And Matt Cavenaugh is perfectly wholesome in the role of Tony; his exquisite singing could easily win him an award of the same name. But as the narrative draws closer to the tragic conclusion, Scaglione becomes a bit unconvincing, and her final choked sobbing sounds hollow. For me, West Side Story's first act is a stand-alone masterpiece, missing only act two's sublime ballet rendition of "Somewhere"—the one bulletproof reason to stick around after intermission. In this revival, the first ninety minutes are incessantly breathtaking, as Laurents uncorks all the fizzy potential in Leonard Bernstein's magnificent score.
Laurents is also well-served here by his rugged ensemble; though some succeed more than others in affecting a contemporary thuggishness, they're all in complete command of their gravity-defying bodies, and Robbins's choreography, recreated by Peter Gennaro, is still enthralling. When West Side Story originally premiered in 1957, it was only Robbins who won a Tony award. But the generous, passionate spirit of Leonard Bernstein permeates every moment of this stirring revival. Maestro would have been 91 this year, too, and it would be sweet to see his surviving collaborators share a belated Tony on his behalf.
