(or, On Revivals and Missed Opportunities)
So I’m back, from outer space, with a second episode of my rant from a couple of weeks ago. This time, it’s prompted by something bigger than common mistaken choices that garden-variety regional productions make, sometimes perpetuating the choices of bigger productions that were revolutionary at the time but have become old hat. This is about someone making that kind of mistake on a much larger scale.
You have heard, no doubt, about the current Broadway revival of West Side Story. The one that (in)famously cut “I Feel Pretty,” the “Somewhere” ballet, the intermission, and all of Jerome Robbins’ classic choreography that is easily one-half the show’s libretto if we’re being honest; the one that cast the all-American Jets as a mixed-race gang, because it’s not like the show is about racial tension or anything; the one with a set consisting largely of dull, uninspired video projections and a cast of inexperienced performers (not necessarily inexperienced period, but inexperienced as far as musical theater goes); the one directed by the iconoclastic flavor of the moment, Ivo van Hove. That one.
I’ll be honest, I hate directors who are all “style” and have no substance, and to me, Ivo van Hove is the epitome of this. Like any such director, he has a bag of tricks that he deploys fairly regularly as a substitute for genuine ideas: the video projection was on painful ever-distracting display in his productions of Network in New York and All About Eve in London, and his “no sacred cows” approach to a show’s text led to the one professional production of Rent where Mimi died (one of his few dramaturgical choices I’ve ever personally agreed with, just so we’re clear that I don’t hate everything he does) and the single-evening revival of Angels in America which was practically surgical in its editing and dropped, among almost two hours of significant material, the closing Bethesda Fountain scene. His oeuvre seems to be in the recent European tradition of the director-dramaturge, whose work has a casual relationship to the text at best and should be considered an independent event that cannot be rationalized by the intentions of the original creator(s).
That would be fine if it didn’t seem like his real intention was to court controversy in the process. Someone who makes it their mission in life to do so doesn’t “do it” for me, and it especially didn’t work in the production bearing loose relation to West Side Story that I saw. You don’t have to be self-consciously experimental to do something new with this piece; it’s much simpler to look at the original, determine its intentions, and try to deliver on them with something newer that gets similar results or has a similar impact today. In his desire to “make it relevant” by moving as far from the original as possible, he threw out the baby with the bathwater, picking a modern dance choreographer who threw out all of Robbins’ steps (only to see a lot of her work discarded or polished by a couple of consultants during previews, which reportedly irked her to no end) when he could have made a different, much better choice of collaborator to begin with, and created something far more interesting and exciting.
Any production of West Side Story that wants to do something new has to contend with three especially picky demographics: those who’ve seen it done the same way since 1957 and don’t want to see something new, those who’ve seen it done the same way since 1957 and do want to see something new (for novelty’s sake, if nothing else), and the Latinx community, whose opinion, as recently expressed succinctly in the title of a New York Times op-ed column by Carina del Valle Schorske, can be summed up as “Let West Side Story and its stereotypes die.” Stereotypes refer, of course, to “the painful way it depicts Puerto Ricans,” as her byline puts it.
(There’s also a group that comes distantly in fourth place: the people who see West Side Story on the marquee, recognize the title, remember it fondly, and decide to purchase a ticket. But they’re not as important to this discussion, because, particularly, in this case, they’re either very confused thanks to their memories of the original, or entertained as hell because one’s first experience of something will always be their best. It’s really down to the three groups above.)
Today, while idly perusing YouTube, I stumbled by chance upon the person who would have been the answer to this revival’s troubles, had she been approached from the beginning. The person I stumbled upon is a legend, a choice for a choreographer that would’ve done something revolutionary, someone who’d satisfy — and score points with — all three demographics, or at least quell the opposition somewhat in the case of the last one, which I don’t think would ever be truly satisfied (and for good reason; I’m not knocking their reaction to it).
I speak of the incomparable Toni Basil.
- She satisfies the purists because she was in a major L.A. production of the show with original cast members (sort of a super-company of the cream of the crop who’d done it up to that point) in the early Sixties, just after the movie. Jerome Robbins — and, more specifically, the dance of that era — is part of her vocabulary, and she would know instinctively where to use iconic moments that she couldn’t improve on.
- She satisfies those who want something new, and especially Ivo’s unconventional casting practices, because this woman, with groups like The Lockers and others, pioneered forms of American street/underground dance before anybody knew what “locking” or “hip-hop” were, and was a seminal influence in bringing it to the public eye. She could easily bring a different, more modern aesthetic and flow to the piece for new audiences by drawing from that influence.
- And last but not least, no one may ever completely satisfy the Latinx community when it comes to this show, but they could never upbraid her for not bringing authenticity to the table, because since the Nineties, she’s cultivated a whole award-winning second career in Latinx music and dance, as a performer, musician, and choreographer. There’s no way she wouldn’t bring the Sharks into line with that world’s true tastes, choices, and flavor for maybe the second ever time in the show’s history, if you count the late Arthur Laurents’ bilingual revival a decade ago.
I am confident that Toni would have offered something new and more authentic while still retaining more than a hint of familiarity. I’d go so far as to say, some obvious missteps such as casting a performer with a dubious reputation (and that’s putting it mildly) aside, that Ivo could’ve cut whatever he wanted and cast whomever he pleased, and damn near everybody would have walked out hating him less for daring to try because of what Toni would have contributed that made up for all that.
Of course, this isn’t the only controversial take on West Side Story coming up around the bend. Steven Spielberg has been working on a film remake for the past six years, from the time he announced interest in 2014 to now, as it prepares for a December release. No less a personage than Tony Kushner was engaged to work on the screenplay, which is expected to hew more closely to the Broadway version than to the film; $100 million has been spent on this picture; continuity was even maintained with the original film in the form of executive producer Rita Moreno, who will reportedly play Valentina, a reworked version of the character Doc, in the movie as well. The cast is chock full of Broadway names (or, in Hollywood terms, talented unknowns), as is the creative team (you know you’ve got clout when Jeanine Tesori takes a break from composing to be your flick’s vocal coach).
I hate to be Debbie Downer, but Steven Spielberg should not be doing the remake. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I get that he’s Steven Spielberg, but he’s never done a musical, and everything he has ever done is no kind of prep for West Side Story. One’s first musical is a very bad time to be tackling a remake of an acknowledged classic.
At the same moment, as I figured out Toni Basil was the better choice for the stage revival, I had a sudden flash of inspiration that revealed who should be doing the film remake as well. The person who should be directing it is Quentin Tarantino.
Stop laughing, I’m serious. Yes, Quentin Tarantino should be directing the West Side Story remake. I mean it.
Lest you think I’ve departed off the deep end, follow me, because I do have supporting logic. Given current cinema’s taste for gritty reboots, he’s a logical choice for that reason alone. This guy’s oeuvre is the definition of grit, as only someone with a deep love for the Fifties, Sixties, and Seventies grindhouse/pulp/cult cinema can cultivate. Combined with his decidedly modern sensibilities when it comes to cinematic editing, I honestly think you could tell him “West Side of New York, last days of summer, 1957” and he could snap his fingers and create something spectacular, something unique and involving. He would bring the blood and guts, the “reality,” that the original is “missing.” (Shit, you think Quentin Tarantino, of all people, would blink at allowing Sondheim to go back to “Every last fuckin’ gang on the whole fuckin’ street” and “Gee Officer Krupke, fuck you”?)
I’ll go one step further. Given that they’ve now collaborated on Once Upon a Time… in Hollywood, slap in Toni’s putative choreography on top of that, and you may not have a new cinematic classic, but you would probably have a credible effort that stood on its own merits, something of which you could at least say, “Well, it’s not the original, but holy fuckin’ shit is it bold and considered, and it makes intelligent choices.”
Let me tell you, reader — it’s far too late for either production to reverse course and start from square one with them, but I think I just made the “so crazy it just might work” choice in the theater of my mind’s eye that could have saved them before they even got out of the gate. I honestly think you’d have a West Side Story for the ages from those two. I can’t tell you how much it hurts to have the answer to everybody’s problems, and not be in a position of power to apply the fix. Everyone else holds the reins.
In a sense, it’s a good thing, because if I had said it beforehand and anyone in either crew had brains, they would’ve robbed me blind, but on the other hand, I feel like we were cheated out of something beautiful now. It’ll never be too late for another reboot, sure, but at some point, it may be too late for a reboot with either of those perfect choices, and that’s what hurts most — that other experienced producers never gave it that level of thought.
This seems like a good spot to end things. Hopefully, in the future, I’ll be back with something more constructive, and not another rant.