Life, and More Life in Pompeii at the British Museum.

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West Side Story at Sadler's Wells

So, I haven't blogged in a while - sorry! I intend to make up for it now though, so prepare yourself for a plethora of heterogenous posts!

Last weekend I went to London to visit my two friends from University, and we went to see West Side Story at Sadler's Wells theatre in Islington. Now, I'm not the greatest lover of musicals (the Lion King left me tearing my hair out), and always prefer straight theatre, so I was sceptical to say the least. What made me more sceptical (and confused) were the posters in the toilets that insisted that Sadler's Wells was, quote 'not just a dance theatre'. Why would there be posters advertising this, I wondered.

As the show started, it quickly became clear that it is because SW IS largely a dance theatre (clearly, they're trying to increase their target market by diversifying their portfolio, however, having WSS, possibly the most dance-heavy broadway musical as their headlining show is perhaps not the best way to achieve it).

In the first five minutes of the performance, I wanted to leave. My friend later said that she meant to warn me that the show's opening is off-putting. It basically consisted of the Sharks and Jets engaged in some sort of quasi-interprative dance-off, throwing each other around the stage, and partaking in some suspiciously homoerotic entanglements. I stuck with it, and gradually became more engaged, yet my attention wasn't truly captured until the emergence of the female performers, notably Maria and Anita. Largely the women of the play, more-so than the men, were vibrant. passionate, compelling and entertaining. Together, male and female performers also worked effectively. I'm not a massive dance fan, but was fascinated by the 'dance' scene: a lively, swirling mass of colours, music, culture and different styles of dance, clashing and intermingling in an Puerto-American whirlwind.

I found the scenes between Maria and Tony slightly cliche (but then again I'm a cynic), yet they were both excellent singers (i.e. 'Tonight'), and really managed to carry the rest of the cast along (Riff = terrible). As the performance developed, it was again the females who stole the show, with upbeat numbers such as 'America' and 'I Feel Pretty', the songs that everyone knows and loves.

More interpretative dance (ugh) came with the deaths of Riff and Bernardo in a street rumble. Post-rumble, I feel the show fell apart slightly. However, I think this is because of integral plot flaws, rather than poor execution. After all, the actors have to do the best they can with the material thrust upon them. Here are the a couple of points which left me puzzled:-

• I don't have a brother, but I'm 99% certain that if I did, and my lover had just admitted to killing him (regardless of  mitigating 'revenge' circumstances), I'd be less than inclined to invite him into my bed with open arms. Maria's willingness to overlook this 'small' digression on Tony's part made me seriously question her integrity, and the moral world of the play in toto. 
• Why doesn't Anita tell Maria to 1. Shut-up about loving Tony 2. Grieve over her brother. If Anita loved Bernardo as much as we are lead to believe she did, one would expect her to be more upset and less eager to help Tony, his killer, run off into the sunset with Maria. 
• The Jets are at their best performing a very funny song about being hoodlums/scoundrels, including impersonations and catchy lyrics. However, this piece of comedy is SO ridiculously out of place. I'm all for bathos and dramatic license, but would you really pause to perform a slapstick comedy ditty when one of your friends lies murdered, another is on the run for murder, and you're potentially culpable. NO. 

Anyway, back to the actual show. The cast's performance of the famous 'Somewhere' was interesting to say the least. They stage is bleached with light, and the cast return dressed in white for some MORE interpretative dance and a rather literal and amateurish (see fake blood) re-inactment of the Riff/Bernardo face-off. A couple of problems with this reinterpretation:

1. It felt like it was trying too hard to be different/original. What's wrong with a simple, unadorned, heart-felt rendition of the classic?   
2. The absence of the singing voice on stage was misleading, confusing and created a lack of engagement and distance between the voice and the audience. One loses the passion and connection the song is meant to convey.
3. The sameness of the white outfits meant that - especially from our seats in the upper circle - it was nigh-on impossible to tell which character was which. Perhaps this was intentional (meant to convey unity in death etc, a blending of different cultures, a healing of old wounds), yet this intention was masked for me by the difficulty of having to strain my eyes figuring out who's 'killing'/ embracing who. 

The play concludes with Chino's murder of Tony, after a brief and shabby allusion to the 'Romeo and Juliet' plot (Tony is told that Chino has killed Maria, and invites him to kill him also, just as the very alive Maria appears on the scene. Again this is something annoying about the play, not the performance, so ignore me). Maria's reaction to Tony's death was compelling, for about a minute. Her repeated screams and threats to shoot both Jet's and Sharks were less engaging that awkward and protracted, as was what felt like several hours of silence as everyone looks each other up and down. In the final moments, Sharks and Jets 'come together' (CLICHE ALERT) to carry off Tony's body, led by Maria. However, there is no closure, no real sense of rivalries healed by tragedy, no true 'happy ending'. I suppose, in one sense, this is a good thing. The play refuses to fulfil the audience's epistemophilia and put a positive twist on an essentially disastrous situation. However, considering how neglectful the players have been of morality throughout the rest of the performance (i.e. Maria not caring much about her brother's death), this sudden injection of devastation seems incongruous. As an audience member, I wasn't left feeling particularly challenged, or made to ruminate on the harshness of life, I was just like 'oh, is that it'. 

Overall, I enjoyed the play, and often felt my dissatisfaction was more to do with the writing than the acting. West Side Story is not, as the Evening Standard claims, a 'masterpiece', but it's a decent portrait, with movement, colour, and the occasional - but overlook-able - unsightly blemish.