"Anything I wanted was a phone call away. Free cars. The keys to a dozen hideout flats all over the city. I bet 20, 30 grand over a weekend and then I'd either blow the winnings in a week or go to the sharks to pay back the bookies. Didn't matter. It didn't mean anything. When I was broke, I'd go out and rob some more. We ran everything. We paid off cops. We paid off lawyers. We paid off judges. Everybody had their hands out. Everything was for the taking. And now it's all over. "
"Ah, man, this movie had it all. It had action, drama, comedy, suspense, and dance." - 'West Side Story’: Thunderdome
Since its debut on Broadway in 1957 West Side Story has touched the hearts and souls of generations. Its themes of racism, classism and violence are as relevant as ever; its thrilling, unapologetic depiction of violence through dance, its soaring soundtracks, its sweeping saga of first love, and its harsh landscape perfectly capture what it is to be young and in love, young and angry at the world and young and helpless in the face of circumstances that are stacked against you.
I have such a deep love for the 1961 adaptation that when I first heard of Steven Spielberg's intended remake my immediate response was rejection, then avoidance of anything and everything to do with the new film in the hope that it would go away. It didn't. Then, after months of hearing about how good the new version was and catching snippets of the soundtrack, curiosity started building in me. I rationalised to myself that West Side Story was originally a stage musical and musicals are adapted all of the time with countless different interpretations; there are hundreds of versions of West Side Story I haven't seen. Eventually I had to admit to myself that I wasn't annoyed about this new film, I was afraid of it. I was afraid it would be better than the original film. Steven Spielberg is a masterful storyeller and a masterful storyteller wielding the words of Tony Kushner, the lyrics of Steven Sondheim and the music of Leonard Bernestein and after finally giving in and watching it, I thought it was… fine. Great, even. Truly brilliant in parts. It didn't capture my heart the way the original screen version did on first viewing but that didn't stop me appreciating its differences and developments. Spielberg's West Side Story is Spielberg's West Side Story, his vision, neither better nor worse, just different. Where the original is grand, sweeping and vivacious, this new version is tight, grounded and thrumming with suppressed emotions. One is a hurricane, the other is a brewing storm, and both are powerful pieces of film that continue to convey the restlessness and hopefulness of youth.
The opening sequence of West Side Story - in any rendition - is iconic. A gentle, rhythmic snapping draws the viewer in until the stage - or screen - is filled with pirhouetting, jeté-ing gang members, leaping their way across the streets of Manhattan's west side. Immediately, the differences in both screen versions are apparent. The new version relies less on choreography to tell its story, where Spielberg opens the film panning over a construction site advertised as the future Lincoln Centre for the Performing Arts. By aligning the story with a real life occurrence, Spielberg and Kushner add a sense of realism to the piece while showcasing the source of the rival communities' hatred and fear. In this way, the actual city - or this particular part of it - plays much more of a role in the story than in the original, where the streets were simply a backdrop. It establishes the angrier tone by emphasising the Jets' animosity towards the entire Puerto Rican community, not just the Sharks, as well as the wider feeling of displacement experienced by all. Riff and the Jets take their anger out on the neighbourhood by blatantly stealing from shop owners, tearing down a restaurant's sign to reveal the orignal underneath for an Irish pub, and defacing a mural of the Puerto Rican flag, sparking a fight with the Sharks. This prologue is bursting with details that capture the on-going war between the two gangs as well as the wider context of the setting.
With choreographer Jerome Robbins co-directing, the original film's prologue delivers a similar message but entirely through dance. The Jets stride and leap down streets in cocksure confidence while Bernardo's control and the Sharks' contained frustration is displayed in short, fluid steps that are eventually let loose as war breaks out. Every movement, from basketball game to brawl, is planned to the last step, syncing up perfectly with Leonard Bernstein's score, as the story lives in service to the music, while high angles on the Jets and low angles on the Sharks further elude to their respective emotions thoughout the sequence and their places in society - one gang confidently takes up space and flaunts their strength and power while the other lies low, allowing their anger to simmer. The visit from Lieutenant Shrank and Officer Krupke that ends the prologue even takes time to show the two gangs briefly allying together against a common enemy, showing the awareness that they know where their real issues lie, but an inability to look beyond their territorial dispute.
No character better exemplifies the wider themes of West Side Story than Riff, and no performance better displays Spielberg and Kushner's developments than Mike Faist's. Faist's Riff depicts the tone of the film's setting, a gentrifying neighbourhood in the process of displacing its inhabitants, and a city ready to explode, "I wake up to everything I know either getting sold or wrecked or bein' taken over by people I don't like. And they don't like me." In every scene Riff simmers with pent up energy and anger, fuelled by a mis-placed hatred for the Puerto Ricans - but he is wholly devoted to his gang. Even when he has given up on Tony, and himself, he holds on for the Jets, "I don't know who I am, and who cares who I am? Nobody, including me…Know what's left out of all that? The Jets. My guys. My guys, who are just like me."
What Faist's Riff doesn't see is Tony's continued devotion to him to him only moments of what he sees as betrayal, but Tony, continues to defend Riff and even argues with María about him, "The whole world has been against Riff since he was born," and their falling out at the end of Cool reduces him to tears. Riff doesn't have to stop being friends with the Tony that left prison, but their ideals no longer align and he can't handle another loss in his life; unlike Tony, who wants to change, Riff is willing to die over this feud. He responds to Tony's new attitude with bitterness and anger, rejecting him early and putting a bold face on, "You're just too deep for me, kid." At the rumble he asks Tony if he's "friend or foe" something he likely never questioned before and when Tony tries to reason with Bernardo, Riff prowls around them, barely containing his rage, not at Bernardo but his friend, "What, are you afraid of your parole officer? You are breaking my heart with this shit!" And yet he intervenes, tries to direct Bernardo's attention back to him, and while the other Jets egg Tony on when he starts fighting, Riff appears conflicted (at one point, it even looks like he's holding his hand out to stop Tony). Riff is a violent and aggressive character, but the loss of Tony is earth-shattering for him, and in his last moments he tries to protect Tony in his own way, by intervening in the fight and telling Tony that it's okay he's been stabbed, "Take it out." He is not telling Tony to take out the knife and finish fighting Bernardo, but that it's okay that he's dying, to take it out and let it happen. Like he said, all he has left are his guys, and he will fight for them if it kills him.
Without the meatier subtext of Tony Kushner's script, Tamblyn's Riff appears more playful in comparison - a kid still playing gangs - but with a competency, reliability and hard edge that justifies his leadership over the Jets. He also has a moral code - if not an inner compass - and it's one he lives by strictly, even when others (the Jets included) would prefer to cut corners, "Protocality calls for a war council between us and the Sharks…" In the prologue, he lets the kids in the playground have their baseball and basketball back and walks around a little girl’s drawing on the ground. Riff's animosity is controlled, directed solely towards the Sharks and other unseen and unnamed gangs. Compared to Faist, Tamblyn's Riff has no interest in fighting the entire world, his feud is focused solely on their stretch of the street and those who dare to step on it (it's notable that the kids that Riff allows to use the playground during the prologue are white). His manners, for lack of a better word, also display how seriously he takes their squabbles and his role, knowing that, even though they are battling over a small piece of a humongous city, the pride they take in that can do more for his friends than anything the world could offer them, "I say this turf is small, but it's all we got."
Tamblyn's Riff doesn't have to worry about losing his home or his friends, he is concerned only with the their turf war and hanging on to the last thing that connects him to the freedom of his childhood (and his power as a gang leader) before adulthood arrives to take it all away. His leading of Gee, Officer Krupke shows this in the list of adult figures the kids make fun of - judges, psychiatrists, social workers - who are all trying to crack the code of juvenile delinquency, "He's psycholgically disturbed!" It also says that, while he certainly takes their feud seriously, it is still fun and games to him, not life and death. Riff's kingdom is a playground and a high school gym and it is in these places that he flaunts his power, so, when Bernardo stabs him at the rumble he expresses surprise, not having expected any real consequences to their fighting.
In any iteration Riff is the more dynamic and complex in his friendship with Tony and the one thing I wish any version of West Side Story included is a conversation between the two friends about María. Tamblyn's Riff would, I believe, have come around to the idea, based on his unrelenting support of his friend. In the gym, he stops Bernardo pursuing Tony and doesn't seem perturbed by his friend's behaviour at all. Their relationship is playful and lived-in and we can see the past these two have shared, "End you're suffering, little man, why don't you just pack up your gear and move out?" "'Cause your ma's hot for me." Although Riff tries to reel Tony back into the gang, he doesn't begrudge him his attempt at a new life, he just wants his friend by his side and when Tony hints at the way he's been feeling, Riff listens and tries to understand, "Come on, Tony, try me." His faith and loyalty in his friend never wavers and it is Tony being hassled by Bernardo that causes Riff to start the knife fight that ends his life. Riff is so devoted to Tony there is no question to him that this loyalty is reciprocated; he assumes Tony is on his side when he changes the terms of the rumble and, when he is stabbed by Bernardo, Riff turns and hands Tony the knife, fully believing he will finish the job for him, "he always came through for us and he always will".
In the 2003 documentary West Side Memories, Richard Beymer expressed a frustration he had with the motivations of his leading man, "How many times can I say 'Doc, I'm in love!'" with only the direction to do "more". His frustration is not unwarranted; until he kills Bernardo in a rage, Tony is difficult to buy as a former gang leader. During the war council is the only time we see Tony as he might have been, he knows their rules and knows how to manipulate the two gangs into the least violent outcome. He doesn't extricate himself from his friends or their turf war but he does attempt to defuse the rumble to a one-on-one fist fight, the smartest action he could have taken to de-escalate the situation and improve the circumstances for him and María. This is the Tony that Riff knows and the reason he wanted him at the gym. By balancing his past experience with his new-found peace of mind, it is his finest moment and a brief glimpse of the ideal world he wants to create with Maria. It is a moment he ruins, however, by promising María that he will stop the rumble altogether, an action that is ultimately destructive but entirely within character for the Tony we have met so far. In his introductory scene with Riff, Tony is bright-eyed and carefree and his reason for changing his lifestyle is vague, "Every single night for the last month, I wake up, and I'm reaching out." Throughout the film his head is empty of the consequences of his relationship with María despite his history as a gang member, "I'm not one of them, María!" When he returns to María after the tragedy of the rumble, Tony's optimism is shattered, he believes the only solution is for them to "get away." Shortly after, when he is shot after believing María dead, he puts his tragic ending down to not believing hard enough in their love. While Tony's blind, care-free nature might be frustrating to a young actor trying to prove his mettle this Tony is very suited to his role as the romantic lead; West Side Story needs its Tony to be idealistic, to really believe that his love will conquer all of the hate in the world. After meeting María, Beymer's Tony is on cloud nine, "twelve feet in the air," and he wants the rest of the world to reach his level, "Doc, I'm in love!".
Elgort's Tony is serious and almost beaten down from the get-go. There is an edge to him formed by his life in the gang and the year he's had to reflect in prison. This is a key difference between the two Tonys; Elgort's Tony had an entire year to reflect on his life and decided to change it, whereas Beymer's seems to have decided overnight and doesn't express any unhappiness with his former life. Elgort's Tony got a glimpse of where his - and Riff's - life would lead if he kept up his old ways, "I was disappearing down a sewer and taking you and everything with me." For someone in Tony's situation this realisation isn't far-fetched and his aspirations to keep his head down and work in Valentina's store are believable. After meeting María, Elgort's Tony tries, like Beymer's, to believe that love is enough, but the rest of the world won't let him, even María. He is realistic enough to realise that they could never be safe or happy in their world and so tries to seperate himself from it. He wants to do this quickly and easily and tries to ignore the consequences, disbelieving that any of his friends, Riff especially, would understand his feelings. By the time he brings himself back into the situation it is too late, he has disappointed Riff too many times for the other man to listen to any of his attempts to stop the rumble and so loses his closes friend and any chance he ever had at being with María.
María is a tough role to fill, as the romantic lead she is the symbol of hope, only for that hope to be extinguished by the film's end. In both versions, María and Anita are more eager than Bernardo to assimilate to American culture, however, the original María's interests are more vapid, "One month have I been in this country, do I ever even touch excitement? I sew in this place all day, I sit at home all night." She is concerned about having a good time at the dance, at not looking like a baby in her altered communion dress, then sulks until she realises being "the only one there" in a white dress will make her stand out. When Bernardo and Chino arrive she twirls prettily for her brother and he pets her hair while telling Chino to keep an eye on her. She pretends at frustration but takes his warnings with good humour, and when Anita and Bernardo kiss, she watches them fondly. Before they leave, she tells her brother it is "most important" she enjoy herself because it is the beginning of her life "as a young lady of America." María, like Tony, is idealistic, a true romantic who wants the love and connection Bernardo and Anita have. When she and Tony are drawn to each other at the dance, it is the spark she wants and is missing with Chino, "When I look at Chino nothing happens." Before meeting Tony, María is surrounded and protected by her family and wider community; she is eager to live her new life in America, but, like Tony, vague about what that means. Her desires and ideas about what living in America could do for her are marginal. She wants to “touch excitement” and stop being treated like a child, but, to do so in this world, all of that hope and innocence must be stripped from her until the childish optimism she displays throughout the film has completely disappeared.
In her first scene, Zegler's María is similarly concerned with her outfit for the dance but, here, her desire to be viewed as a grown-up is more justifiable. She is eighteen, has a job and has been taking care of their father since she was six; later, Anita reminds Bernardo that she also contributes to their rent. This María is not the naive, happy-go-lucky girl of the original movie, who puts up with her brother's protective nature and has a whole family in New York to look after her. Zegler's María is defiant, argues with Bernardo and, most importantly, has hopes and ambition for her new life in America. She expresses an interest in attending college and isn't interested in cleaning at Gimbels or marrying Chino; she wants respect in her home and autonomy outside of her community "I want to make a life, a home." (By all rights, in this version of the musical, it should be Maria singing Something's Coming while Tony tells all of the Jets how pretty he feels) When she catches Tony staring at her across the gym she is hesitant, as if she isn't sure that she is the one he's looking at, but when it becomes clear, she is drawn in by his attention and the possibility it offers. She silently directs him over to the bleachers, where she leads their dance and surprises him with a kiss. Her intent in this scene is clear; she brings up the fact that he is not Puerto Rican, that she's never seen him before then kisses him immediately after, eager to engage with someone who doesn't come with any preconceived notions about her, who might see her and treat her like an adult. The next morning, María is angry with Bernardo for continuing to treat her like a child by ordering her not to see Tony. María doesn't see Bernardo's perspective; all he saw was her emerging from the bleachers looking nervous, with Tony following close behind. Bernardo knows what the Americans are capable of and displays his fear in anger towards Tony (a fear that is unfortunately manifested, later on, when Anita is assaulted by the Jets). So, she meets his orders with defiance, "Maybe Chino and your friends fall down at your feet and maybe you scare the americanos when you make fists and angry faces, pero yo no estoy interesada en boxeo ni en peleas. Y tú no eres mi jefe. And I am not interested in what you have to say." She tells Bernardo that she was perfectly fine without him while she was in Puerto Rico taking care of their father and he was in America building the kind of life she now wants to build for herself. An interesting detail here is that Tony is not part of María's plans for the future. When Bernardo makes a comment about her marrying him, María is flabbergasted, "Marry him? I danced with him." Even in love, this María keeps her feet on the ground.
Individually, these added layers are wonderful but let María and Tony down as romantic leads. The new María and Tony are far more thoughtful, smarter and responsible, but, because of that, I can't help but think they should know better. On their way to the cloisters, María argues with Tony about their actions and how it affects their friends and families, "We can't pretend what we do doesn't cause trouble." At this point Tony is trying to seperate from the gang and doesn't want to hear it, when she asks him about the upcoming rumble he tries to brush her off, "News to me." While Wood's María is convinced that her Tony has the power to stop the rumble, Zegler's María isn't so convinced. Until their faux-marriage scene their love for each other seems one-sided. Tony tells María, "I don't just like you," while María laughs at Bernardo's suggestion that she is going to marry Tony. Tony's intensity and his confession to her, "…it's like I'm always just about to fall off the edge of the world's tallest building. I stopped falling the second I saw you," suggests that he sees María as a source of redemption for his crime and that the stakes in this relationship are higher for him. Bernardo's comments at the rumble back up this implication, "…and you see my sister, and you think, how 'bout I get myself a brown girl…If I can be with a coloured girl like her, I'll be somebody better than I was." Tony sees the pure joy and innocence María radiates at the dance and thinks he has found the antidote to the violence and anger of his former life. If he can be with someone as pure as he believes María is (he is surprised when she kisses him behind the bleachers, expecting her to be timid), then maybe he'll be somebody better than he was.
In contrast, María's love for Tony is a slow build. Before the dance at the gym, Bernardo tells Chino, "She says all the time she doesn't want anyone like me," and piece by piece we see María's interest in Tony grow stronger. While his initial attempts to shrug off her concern about the rumble bother María, after he confesses his crime to her and his desire to change, she begins to see that his ideals line up with her own and they both want the same thing - an end to the fighting and a chance at a future. Tony then seals the deal when he promises her he will stop the rumble. During these scenes, Tony initially ignores her fears but is spurred to action only when María begins to express the same level of devotion towards him by initiating their pretend marriage and telling him, "I shouldn't have asked you to stop the fighting. I don't want you to go anywhere near the fighting," slotting into the role of his guardian angel. His commitment to stopping the rumble all of a sudden is an effort to preserve their new-found balance as well as María's innocence, "I swear to you, María, there won't be any fight." Their relationship here is far more complex and while that makes them fascinating characters, in a tragic love story there is not enough time afforded to allow these nuances to unfold, as they must swiftly fall in love with each other then grieve for each other with the totality of their beings. As lovers Tony and María should be lead by their hearts but these two have too much of a head on their shoulders.
In contrast, Beymer and Wood's couple are idealistic in their belief that love will make everything better, and they are on the same page as soon as they lock eyes with each other across the gym. Although his explanation is vague, the problem with Beymer's Tony at the beginning of the film is that he is ready to grow up and leave his childhood behind; falling in love with María is the next step towards adulthood and a further separation between him and his childhood (the Jets). María is not a source of salvation simply because this Tony doesn't feel he needs saving; instead, she represents change and adulthood. María herself wants to feel the excitement of the love she sees in Bernardo and Anita and doesn't feel for Chino and wants to be seen as a young lady, not a little girl that needs protection. Their desires are far more simple than in the new version, and they are so much less complex, but that is nearly for the better. As Tony and María, Beymer and Wood fly on the wings of their love so convincingly it is easier to believe they would get themselves into this mess. Tony is so willing to do whatever it takes to make María happy that he jeapordises the fair fight he arranged at the war council. In turn, María trusts him so faithfully that it is easy for her to commit to him heart and soul when confronted with Anita's ire, "I love him, I'm his. And everything he is, I am too." They're idiots. And are so consumed with their love for each other that they believe the Jets and Sharks capable of putting aside years of hate and anger. It only becomes apparent that this won't happen when Tony is killed and María experiences loss, hate and anger and the tragedy of their love is that loss of hope and innocence.
There isn't much of a difference between Rita Moreno and Ariana de Bose’s Anitas. Both are fiery and unafraid to speak their minds, protective of María and hopeful about their lives in New York. There are some moments in the new version that I don't think add to Anita's character, but certainly embellish the traits both versions share. Out of the three core Puerto Rican characters, Anita cares the most about assimilating to American culture, she insists they all speak English at home and throws around the word "ain't" like the native New Yorkers. As well as this, she voices her reasons for countering Bernardo's rose-tinted loyalty to Puerto Rico, "And if you think that I'm going back home to Puerto Rico with six kids that I put to bed hungry every night? Amor de mi vida, you are dreaming." Instead of simply pointing out how bright and shiny and new everything in America is, as Moreno's Anita only ever gets a chance to, this Anita has practical aspirations and approaches them realistically, "You want to know where my home is? It's where I pay rent, right here. It's where I work my fingers raw mending pants and hemming neck ties so that I can earn enough money to pay other girls to sew for me. So that someday, I can rent a shop of my own, in this great, big, beautiful Nueva York." Duing the America performance, there is a moment where she seems serious and angry with Bernardo, "You forget, I'm in America." This line, with that attitude, literally reminds Bernardo that he wants to be with Anita and she wants to be in America, that she's not going to roll over and return to Puerto Rico after all the work she's put in to build her life and her business.
Moreno's Anita is fabulous and defiant, she is an older sister to María, a more playful and comforting foil to the stern, over-protective Bernardo, and fiercely independent, but, like all characters in the original version, the ins and outs of her life are played down. She likes America for the possibilities it offers her and is dismissive of Puerto Rico for everything it doesn't have, rather than the real problems they experienced living there, "It's so good there? We had nothing." Her concerns are with the present moment and her dialogue is based on sensation "After a fight that boy is so healthy," with no voiced thoughts about the future. What Moreno's Anita does have over de Bose's, is the opportunity to react to María's relationship with Tony before their duet. After the dance, she argues against Bernardo's reaction, siding with María, "Girls here are free to have fun, she is in America now," and the next day she actually meets Tony. In this scene, Anita is surprised and wary then understanding. She doesn't exactly approve and warns María to be home quick, but she sees that Tony is trying and, ultimately, believes what she told Bernardo: María is in America now and should experience everything that means. Anita is a creature of sensation and understands this about other people, explaining their behaviour because of it "You saw how they danced, like they got to get rid of something, quick. That's how they fight." As easily as she accepts that Bernardo has to fight the Jets, she accepts that María is in love with Tony.
Like Anita, there is little change in Bernardo across both films. Both versions are prideful, powerful Puerto Rican men who share disdain for their peoples' treatment in America. George Chakiris won an Oscar for his role in the original film and rightly so; his graceful, controlled movements hint at a contained power while making his necessity to fight in a street gang more tragic - he shouldn't be here, playing these games with the American Jets. We get slightly more of Bernardo's perspective on the fighting from Alvarez' version when he tells Chino, "It's stupid. We gotta do it, but it's stupid." A sentiment that applies to both even if Chakiris' Bernardo was never given the opportunity to vocalise it. Both Bernardos are above the gang warfare but are forced into it for the good of their people. It's a shame that, with Chakiris' Bernardo, other than to say that he was attacked the first day he moved to New York, his background and current life are not alluded to at all in the film; we don't know what he does for a living and we don't know what he wants for the future. He is the leader of the Sharks and seems to have lead the Puerto Ricans' move to America, "When I think of how I thought it would be for us here, we came like children, believing, thrusting, with our hearts open…" only for that belief to be quickly shattered by the reality of the racist American culture.
In an interview with Entertainment Weekly, Alvarez spoke of going to the source material - Tybalt in Romeo and Juliet - as a touchstone for his version of Bernardo, "…Tybalt is an incredible fighter…he's vicious, he has this anger that he can't control, but he also loves his family and he wants to protect his family." Like Chakiris', his Bernardo understands the reality of their situation more than Anita and María. An addition to the new Bernardo that I love is his boxing; he is literally fighting against the city through his chosen profession, and Alvarez’ tight and powerful dancing exude this career. Although Tony tries to be friendly, Bernardo's concerns for María and anger towards Tony are not mis-placed; all he sees is his sister coming out from behind the bleachers with a white man, what happened between them; during the rumble, he fairly calls out Tony's stint in prison and accuses him of looking for some kind of redemption in María. His dismissal of Tony's placating, while detrimental, is not unwarranted: Bernardo is desperate to protect his family and responds to Tony and Riff in the way this country taught him to - with violence.
The greatest disparity between the two versions is, to me, the execution of the finale. In the original, Tony's death and María's final speech are heart-breaking; this scene is the shattering of innocence and belief in the good of a world where, it turns out, loving is not enough, "Not here." The new version feels like a rush job that severely lacks the tension of the original as we watch Zegler just hitting the beats of the scene rather than wallowing in them. There is no time in between these moments for us, or María, to sit with the tragedy of Tony's death and all of the sadness and anger that comes with it before she has moved on to the next line. It is also where Zegler's lack of experience turns against her when it hadn't before. As a bright-eyed girl experiencing her first love, she shines, as the frustrated younger sister of an over-bearing brother she is humourous and defiant, for most of the film, she is transcendant. But the finale is the first time María and Zegler carry a scene by themselves, without another character or actor to bounce off of. The awkwardness of the scene is not entirely on Zegler's shoulders of course; pacing is the biggest issue as there is little time for María to process one emotion before she has jumped to the next. The staging is lacklustre with only a handful of Jets and Sharks to witness María's turmoil and feel the consequences of their fighting, and, as the procession begins to leave, the focus bizarrely shifts from María to Valentina who approaches Chino, then back to María, then back to Valentina and Chino as the police arrive and the group carries Tony's body into Doc's drugstore. This finale refuses to wallow in María's grief nor does it spend enough time on any of the other characters to suggest a wider theme on the consequences of the gangs' violence.
The original, in comparison, flourishes. From the moment Tony dies María is allowed to express a bevy of emotions, and, imperatively, the two gangs are made to face these emotions. In the seconds after Tony's death, María's face expresses not sadness or anger, but deep regret that another young man had to die. As she lays his body down the camera cuts to the Jets and Sharks who are about to spring at each other and brawl before María orders them to stop, exhausted by the antics that have killed Tony, Bernardo and Riff. When she rises, it is with anger, that they could so quickly start fighting again after everything that's happened; María demands the gun that killed Tony from Chino's hand and points it at them all, "All of you! You all killed him, and my brother, and Riff. Not with bullets and guns. With hate! I can kill, too, because now I have hate!" She begins this speech calmly questioning, then builds to a great anger until tears spill from her eyes and she finally succumbs to her despair. While she is curled up, weeping, Lieutenant Shrank arrives and approaches Tony's body, María notices him passing and shrieks at him, "Don't you touch him!" as she throws herself across his body. A second later, she realises who she has just yelled at but so powerful are her feelings that Shrank backs away respectfully, allowing María a final moment to say goodbye. María knows this is her last chance and in this moment she looks back and forth between Tony and the two gangs, not pleading with them, but softly challenging them to say or do something. She looks first to the Sharks, who look away, then to the Jets, most of whom are uncomfortable until Action (the most antagonistic and eager for violence) steps forward and stands at her side while she says goodbye. Finally, Action and two more Jets step forward to take Tony's body; when they struggle to pick him up off the ground, two Sharks race forward to help. There is a moment, then, when the rival gang members just look at each other, silently assessing each other before silently agreeing to drop their feud, if only for this moment. María, like a statue, remains where she is while the others follow Tony's procession until Baby John picks up her scarf and gently places it over her head. When she is ready, wearing the red dress she was so eager to try when we first met her (representing not just the love and passion she has experienced, but the anger, hatred and violence) with her black, funereal shawl wrapped across her head and shoulders, María, stone-faced, rises as the woman she has become after this night. The camera pans back and allows the characters to leave one by one before finally stopping to rest on the playground, now empty of Jets and Sharks, the childish games they played, and María and Tony's love, all gone in a matter of minutes.
This is not an attempt to decide, ultimately, which film is better - no one has a right to make that decision, let alone me. I hope, instead, that it is a celebration of differences, of what makes both films beautiful and timeless, but also what makes them flawed pieces of art, created by highly talented but no less human hands. There is a reason West Side Story has stood the test of time, perhaps the same reason its source material has also; West Side Story is a melting pot of heated, heightened emotions, love professed, wars fought, grief experienced and revenge exacted. There are questions of race and class, loyalty and brotherhood, redemption sought and innocence lost. You don't have to come from this city, this era or any of these backgrounds to recognise the love, joy, loss, grief and anger felt by each and everyone of the characters. Every iteration brings something new to discuss, to compare and contrast with previous attempts, be it a local stage production or directed by a giant of film or theatre. The beauty of West Side Story is its universality, that it can speak to people from all walks of life. The lesson of West Side Story is the fatality of hatred and an acceptance of the new; the Jets and Sharks had to lose their friends and loved ones to learn it, I just had to watch a movie.
"We all need a partner." - Human Connection in the Worlds of Wong Kar-Wai
Wong Kar-Wai is a film maker known for his distinct visual style, dreamy soundtracks, saturated worlds and sparse storytelling. While all of his films share this unique aesthetic his choice of stories remains eclectic. Included in his ouevre are small-time gangster flicks (As Tears Go By, Fallen Angels), the fallout of a relationship between two men (Happy Together), the budding relationship between two neighbours (In the Mood for Love), martial arts period dramas (Ashes of Time, The Grandmaster), a man's desperate search for his birth mother (Days of Being Wild), and a contempory romance (Chungking Express). Indeed, it is difficult to summarise his films in one short sentence; they are these things, but so much more. Wong's films are made up of moments, shot in stylistic fashion and eclectic order. In an individual movie storylines may not be connected but share thematic similarities. What ends up connecting these films then, the characters and the events of their lives, is a desire for connection, felt deeply and passionately yet often missed out on or actively avoided. Wong manages every time to grip audiences in his clutches, compelling them along these mundane journeys as the yearning of his characters to be with someone, to love and be loved, yet often rejecting the love they receive, becomes our own.
Like many successful directors, Wong Kar-Wai is fond of bringing back the actors he has worked with in the past, often to play characters they've previously portrayed if only for a moment's screentime. Such is the case with his loose trilogy of dramas made up of Days of Being Wild, In the Mood for Love, and 2046. While 2046 is a direct sequel to In the Mood for Love (and a more indirect sequel to Days of Being Wild), links between the three films are tenuous and crafted with mere hints and nods. Tony Leung appears in a silent, almost inexplicable scene at the end of Days of Being Wild (only explicable when you've seen In the Mood for Love) while Maggie Cheung appears as a fleeting memory in 2046. To me, what connects these three films is their rejection of romantic love; while so many of Wong Kar-Wai's characters search for love, there are as many that find it and say no.
In Days of Being Wild, the main character, Yuddy, forms a relationship with two women who he inevitably breaks up with when they grow too close to him. The first with Su Li-Zhen he ends suddenly and agressively when she suggests they live together. He leaves his next girlfriend, Lulu, without telling her that he's leaving for the Philippines in search of his birth mother. Yuddy's identity is tied into finding this woman, thus his rejection of Su Li-Zhen and Lulu: there is an emptiness shaped by his mother and neither of these women fill it satisfactorily. In a tragic turn of events, when he finally finds his mother she refuses even to see him and Yuddy is forced to continue on with this emptiness inside him and experiencing the rejection he administers so freely. The final person he meets is Tide, a cop turned marine, who we previously saw offering comfort and advice to the heart-broken Su Li-Zhen. As a man, Tide is not subjected to the same treatment by Yuddy as Su Li-Zhen and Lulu were; Yuddy can interact with Tide without worrying about having to give something of himself in return, while Tide can offer comfort and advice without being expected to fill the mother-shaped hole in the other man's life.
During his final moments, he asks Tide to tell Su Li-Zhen that he forgot about her, "When you see her again, tell her I remember nothing. It's better that way for all of us." Yuddy wants no responsibility for the hurt he's caused. As romantic love is low in his estimation, he expects it to be as easy for everyone else to forget. Seconds later, Yuddy is gone, having cut off every emotional tie in his life and denied the only connection he really wanted.
"I thought we wouldn't be like them, but I was wrong." Although In the Mood for Love also depicts a denial of love, here it is a decision made by both parties. Chow Mo-Wan and Su Li-Zhen are neighbours whose spouses are cheating on them and although they commiserate and lean on each other for support, they adamantly refuse to pursue a romantic relationship, desiring to be "better" than their spouses. However, as their friendship blossoms, the film encourages viewers to root for Chow and Su with its provocative soundtrack, heady lighting and lustful, rose-tinted colour palatte, their clandestine glances and near-constant close proximity to each other, framed in narrow alleys and hallways, or cramped together in the back of a taxi or one of their small rooms. The very fact that they don't act on their feelings raises them in our estimation as decent people, while also making us want them to be with each other more; we want characters we like to experience the things that they want. Wong Kar-Wai knows how to make his characters yearn for each other and here he skillfully makes the audience yearn for them too. Yet, he does not allow them a conventionally happy ending. Instead their story ends with a series of missed opportunities and the continued denial of their happiness. There is a maturity to In the Mood for Love that contributes to the characters' decision to remain friends; instead of impulsively acting on their feelings Chow and Su restrain themselves so as not to emulate an act that hurt them so much through their spouses - as Chow says in his confession to Su: "You won't leave your husband. So I'd rather go away."
While the ending of In the Mood for Love would lead us to believe that Mr. Chow has left his love behind him, 2046 shows us that it's not as simple as turning your back and walking away. Here, Chow Mo-Wan returns to us a different man than the one we met in In the Mood for Love, one who is more cynical in his pursuit of love and keeps a distance between himself and his partners through a series of fleeting arrangements. In Lulu, the first woman we see Chow interact with, we find a forewarning for the life Chow could lead if he doesn't learn to move past Su Li-Zhen. Lulu, the same character from Days of Being Wild, has not since recovered from her experience with Yuddy as evidenced by Chow's re-telling of their previous meeting, "You talked a lot about your late boyfriend…You said he was the love of your life." Lulu is still grieving the loss of Yuddy, and does not get the opportunity to learn and move on from him, as Chow eventually will, as she is soon killed by a jealous boyfriend.
The shadow of Su Li-Zhen stagnates any potential relationship Chow could develop with the women in his life as he holds them up to her memory, "I never dreamed I'd meet another Su Li-Zhen." When feelings develop in him or in the women he meets, they are ultimately rejected by the receiver. So it is with Bai Ling, who initially rolls with the punches of their affair until she develops feelings for Chow only for him to turn her away. Chow, in turn, is rejected by another Su Li-Zhen who believes she will only ever be a replacement for the original. Chow's relationship with Bai Ling was almost purely sexual, the opposite of his experiences with both Su Li-Zhens, and as such it's likely he never considered her as a serious option for his future. With the other Su Li-Zhen, a distance was maintained between them while she helped him repay his gambling debts; they worked together and maintained a platonic relationship while feelings mounted between them - a replica of the relationship in In the Mood for Love and likely building his feelings even more. Had Chow not told the new Su Li-Zhen about the original, something might have happened between them, but Su recognised his stagnant feelings and wisely chose to protect herself from heartbreak.
In a similar vein, Chow falls for Wang Jing-Wen, the daughter of the hotel owner. Chow grows close to Wang Jing-Wen when he helps her send secret letters to her Japanese boyfriend and she helps him with his novel, another thread reminiscent of In the Mood for Love and a period Chow refers to as the happiest in his life since that last collaboration. Like both Su Li-Zhens their relationship is initially platonic but Chow falls for her the more time they spend together. However, Wang Jing-Wen is committed to her boyfriend and doesn't notice his attentions. Like Yuddy, Chow sees these new women as potential fillers for the hole in his life and in an unusual displays of emotional sagacity (for Wong Kar-Wai characters, anyway) neither women pursue an inevitably futile relationship with him, leaving Chow to navigate his journey alone. It is even possible that these interactions have rubbed off on Mr. Chow as he afterwards makes more considerate choices in his relationship with Bai Ling. After writing his novel, Chow reflects on his behaviour with the second Su Li-Zhen, how he wanted her to be his old love instead of letting her be a new one. In the final scene, Chow and Bai Ling reunite but he rejects her invitation to spend the night with her. When she asks why it can't be like it was before, Chow simply says that it's something he can't do. Although 2046 leaves the viewers with a margin of hope for Chow - who is no longer willing to live in an unchanging world, stringing people along and hurting himself and others - it looks as if the cycle of heartbreak will continue in Bai Ling, until she learns how to move on, or, like Lulu, remains stagnant.
In contrast to these three films, others in Wong Kar-Wai's canon depict a desperate, almost adamant, desire for love and connection regardless of where it comes from. Chungking Express and Fallen Angels are connected in their anthological story-telling style and depiction of Hong Kong street life, while Happy Together takes a sharp turn to the airport and flies to Argentina to portray the deep, if problematic, connection between two former lovers. The common denominator is the loneliness of the characters and their desperation for connection even if it is with the wrong person.
"We're all unlucky in love sometimes." In the first of Chungking Express' two storylines, Cop 223 spends his free time trying to get into contact with his ex-girlfriend. Like many Wong Kar-Wai characters he is heartbroken, hung up on the past and looking to fill a void. Cop 223 is a character obsessed with timing - "Somehow everything comes with an expiry date" - and his is poorer than most. After his girlfriend broke up with him on April Fool's Day, he lives under a deadline until May 1st, his birthday, when he will finally give up on her coming back, "We split up on April Fool's Day, so I decided to let the joke run for a month." The night before his birthday he bumps into a gangster known only as "the woman in the blonde wig", his attempts at flirting fail, but he ends up taking her home anyway where she passes out from exhaustion. Cop 223 then spends the entire night in her hotel room while she sleeps, watching TV and ordering room service, desperate to develop a connection with someone that he stays up in this woman's hotel room the entire night on the off-chance it might be her. He leaves the next morning, his bithday, giving up on his girlfriend and the woman. However, to his surprise, he receives a birthday message from her and vows that, "For this, I'll remember her all my life." The woman in the blonde wig may not have been the right woman for Cop 223 to fall in love with that night, but their brief connection is enough to give him hope and encourage him to move on. Unfortunately, the next woman he tries to flirt with - Faye - falls in love with someone else, "Six hours later, she fell in love with another man." So, Cop 223's cycle of bad luck with women continues, but so does his determination.
Like Cop 223, Cop 663 is hung up on his ex-girlfriend and remains morosely unaware of the interest shown by Faye, a new employee at the snack counter he frequents on his lunch break. Here, both characters are looking for love in places where it cannot be found. When Cop 663 leaves a key to his apartment in the care of the snack bar, Faye begins sneaking in when he's not there, tidying his apartment, replacing some of his items and redecorating. When Cop 663 eventully realises that Faye is in love with him he asks her out on a date she doesn't show up for. Instead, Faye decides to take a break from her one-sided infatuation and pursue her dream of traveling to America - but doesn't give up on him. She leaves behind a message for Cop 663, a boarding pass drawn onto a napkin dated a year later. On this day, Faye returns to the snack bar to find that Cop 663 has bought it and wants to turn it into a restaurant. He produces the napkin he has kept all this time, the destination blurred after being caught in the rain. Faye begins to write him a new one and asks where he'd like to go: "Wherever you want to take me." Of all the relationships discussed, Faye's and Cop 663's is the most promising, but they had to grow to reach this point. When they first meet, Cop 663 is so fixated on his ex-girlfriend that not only does he not notice Faye's feelings, he barely notices the changes in his apartment. At this time, Cop 663 is not ready for Faye but when they arrange a date anyway, her rejection of him wakes him up out of his stupor and encourages him to change. Their year apart from each other allows them to grow and change, so when Faye returns, their interest in each other is more even and the possibility of a relationship between them is heightened.
In Fallen Angels we meet Wong Chi-Ming, a gangster partnered with a woman he has never met in person, referred to only as the Killer's Agent. Each time Wong Chi-Ming finishes a job the agent goes to his hideout to clean up after him. By going through his rubbish she feels she has come to know him better than anyone, but it is a connection she is forced to fabricate by taking home his rubbish, going to a bar she knows he likes and even masturbating on his bed, while Wong Chi-Ming is too afraid to meet this woman who understands him more than he'd like. When he decides to quit his job, instead of meeting her face to face, he leaves her a coded message he knows she will understand, "Being partners, you get to understand each other. Almost able to read each other's minds. I'd often leave her some clues to trace my actions or my whereabouts. After all these years, she's become part of my life." In the middle is Punkie, an unabashedly erratic woman whose behaviour is designed to make her memorable. Unfortunately, the only person she cares about impressing, Wong Chi-Ming, has forgotten her once before, "You like me now. That's fine." Wong Chi-Ming's problem is not lonliness - he actively cuts all ties with the people in his life - but Wong Chi-Ming is not the one looking for a connection, he is the object of pursuit. Both the agent and Punkie look to Wong Chi-Ming for something he is unwilling to provide and both are so desperate for this connection that they are content with the measly relationship they've managed to fabricate with him.
Another character desperate for connection is He Zhiwu, a recently escaped convict who falls in love with Charlie, a nutcase out for revenge against her ex-boyfriend's fiancé. A mute since childhood, He Zhiwu admits that he has "very few friends". In his desire to connect with people (and have something to do) he opens other peoples' businesses at night and harasses potential customers by shoving produce in their faces and often knocking them to the ground. In an effort to make himself understood, He Zhiwu is physical with people but is always pushed away. When he meets Charlie she latches onto him, literally using him as a shoulder to cry on, and is just as physical as he is as she drags him around Hong Kong in her attempts to get back at her ex. The fact that she doesn't push him away encourages He Zhiwu's feelings, though Charlie clearly doesn't feel for him in return. After she stands him up one night, He Zhiwu puts her behind him and throws himself into a real job and his relationship with his father - the strongest one in the movie - however, when his father passes away, He Zhiwu returns to his old delinquent ways, devoid of another person to keep him grounded. Around this time, he bumps into Charlie again and tries to get her attention but she has cleaned herself up and ignores him completely while she waits for her new boyfriend. Later on, downtrodden and beaten up by gangsters, He Zhiwu spots the Killer's Agent in a restaurant, a woman he has seen before but never thought to engage with, "I knew we'd never be friends or confidants. We'd let too many chances pass us by," but this tme she asks him for a lift home. Once again, Wong provides that strand of hope; in this moment they are both broken-hearted and lonely and although both are sceptical about the future of this relationship, for one night, at least they find comfort and solace in each other, "The road wasn't that long, and I knew I'd be getting off soon. But at that moment I felt such warmth." Again, we see our characters pursuing the wrong people until they get to an emotional point where they can look for the right ones.
"We could start over." These are the words repeated by Ho Po-Wing each time he wants to get back together with Lai Yiu-Fai in Happy Together. Although, Lai Yiu-Fai knows better than to continue this relationship, he and Ho Po-wing are too deep in each others' emotional pockets to truly separate. On a failed trip to Argentina in an effort to rekindle their relationship, the two men become invariably linked - by their history, their lack of money and their isolation in a foreign country. They are forced to live together in a tiny apartment while Ho Po-Wing recovers from a beating and Lai Yiu-Fai tries to earn enough money to return to Hong Kong. What follows is a long-drawn-out power struggle between two people who are unafraid to manipulate and control each other since they've seen and done it all before. While Ho initially appears to be the insitigator of their toxicity, we soon learn that Lai is no angel after he steals Ho's passport taking away his ability to leave. In their literal isolation in a foreign country both men latch on to the familiarity of their ex-partners and like the characters in Fallen Angels they desperately cling to even the most tattered thread of connection so as not to be left absolutely alone. That is, until Lai Yiu-Fai meets Chang, a young back-packer working in the same restaurant as Lai to supplement his trip. Chang grounds Lai, bringing relief, companionship and sanity to his current life and obliviously helps Lai step back and review his recent behaviour. Happy Together does not give its viewers a conventionally satisfying ending but it does offer hope in Chang; not that he will become Lai's partner (his sexuality is never discussed), but that, after meeting and learning from Chang, Lai will move on from Ho and, this time, not turn back. Chang is travelling to the southernmost point of South America to visit a lighthouse where, he has heard, a person can leave their sadness behind before going home. Chang's optimism, his carefree ability to weave in and out of environments, adapting as needs be, is the antithesis of Lai and his situation with Ho and the catalyst for Lai finally leaving Ho and returning to Hong Kong. On his way home, Lai visits Iguazú Falls, the destination of an unsuccessful road trip at the beginning of the film, "I felt very sad. I always thought there should be two of us standing here." After finally seeing the very thing they traveled to Argentina to see, Lai can leave Ho and all of their sadness behind him.
"Love is all a matter of timing. It's no good meeting the right person too soon or too late. If I'd lived in another time or place… my story might have had a very different ending." These are only some of the recurring themes that appear in Wong Kar-Wai's films and none are the definitive concept behind a particular movie. Across each of these films a desire is kindled in the viewer for these characters to "end up" with someone, often despite knowing better. It is their happiness we really want and it is something we rarely get. Wong's characters are constantly being pulled in different directions by neccesity and desire and these are themes and emotions that the director has been using and developing on since the beginning of his career. Even his martial arts films, Ashes of Time and The Grandmaster are, at heart, stories of love and longing, unrequited and forbidden. As Tears Go By, his first and most conventional film, depicts this struggle in Wah, another small-time gangster trying to leave the life behind. Wah attempts to leave his criminal life after meeting and falling in love with Ngor; he even leaves the city to be with her, but is shot when he returns to Hong Kong to help his "little brother" out of a tight spot. Even before this tragic ending could split them apart, Ngor had subtly let him go knowing he will always follow the call back to Hong Kong, both choosing necessity over desire - but they had to try. For these characters, the pursuit of connection is almost more important than the result - it is a way out, a chance for a different life; for Chow to forget his love for Su, for Yuddy to reconnect with his birth mother, for Cop 223 to get over his ex. Even when they don't want to be tied down, know they are with the wrong person or desperately want someone they can never have, it is this yearning for connection that keeps them going and eases their broken hearts. In their lives, connection is a matter of survival or, sometimes, of simply getting through the night.
Title: God's Own Country
Directed by: Frances Lee
Written by: Francis Lee
Cast: Josh O'Connor, Alec Secareanu, Gemma Jones, Ian Hart
Director of Photography: Joshua James Richards
Year: 2017
The atmosphere of God's Own Country is brilliantly informed by its landscape. Its lead, Johnny, is isolated, stark, cold and gruff in his interactions with people, but opposite him is seasonal worker, Gheorghe, who, through his calm, methodical actions, reminds Johnny of the beauty that can be found in their mountains and the gentleness that can live alongside the roughness of rural farm life.
Johnny is not entirely unjustified in his attitude. Farming requires hard work under normal circumstances, but he is shouldering the farm's responsibilities on his own - before Gheorghe arrives his only companions are his elderly grandmother, who is now only able for domestic work, and his ill father who is not able for work of any kind. As well this, Johnny lives under the scrutiny of his father and grandmother and their unfair criticisms of his inability to be in two places at once. His only outlets from this life are drinking in the local pub at night and fleeting sexual encounters. When we meet him, Johnny is a mess, but his fading care for the farm is understandable. When his father and grandmother hire Gheorghe to help with the lambing, Johnny is initially dismissive of him - and often racist - but finds himself captivated by the other man. When they first have sex, it is a battle in the muck between Johnny's usual functional, unemotional methods and Gheorghe's desire for something slower and easier. Their interactions thereafter - sexual and otherwise - display the same callousness from Johnny and determined gentleness from Gheorghe until Johnny eventually comes around to Gheorghe's way of living and begins to envision a life where he can continue working on the farm and be happy.
God's Own Country highlights the beauty that can be found in a bleak, stark landscape and while it is tough, it never dwells in misery. It is refreshing in its depiction of Johnny's issues with his family as they don't stem from his sexual identity but rather his anger and behaviour - when his grandmother finds a used condom in his room she is only concerned that Johnny is going to let his relationship with Ghoerghe affect his work and when Johnny convinces his father that for the farm to survive changes will have to be made, it is understood by both men that Gheorghe is part of those changes. In this, as well, God's Own Country is refreshing, because in spite of its rural lonliness and its main character's emotional stagnation, it allows Johnny and Gheorghe a happy ending.
"I'm thirty-six years old, I love my family, I love baseball, and I'm about to become a farmer. And until I heard the Voice, I'd never done a crazy thing in my whole life."
Review: Speed Racer - Beautiful, Inspiring and Everything That Art Should Be
Title: Speed Racer
Directed by: Lilly and Lana Wachowski
Written by: Lilly and Lana Wachowski
Cast: Emile Hirsch, John Goodman, Susan Sarandon, Roger Allam, Christina Ricci, Matthew Fox
Production Design by: Owen Paterson
Set Decoration by: Peter Walpole
Costumes by: Kym Barrett
Year: 2008
"Speed, when I watch you do some of the things you do, I feel like I'm watching someone paint or make music."
There was a lot working against Speed Racer before I started watching it. It was late and the film is long and action-heavy, I have never seen an episode of the anime that it's based on, and I really had no idea of what I was about to get into narratively and visually.
And holy moses did I have a great time.
While the film's CGI and intense visual aesthetic was, admittedly, a shock to the system at first and took some getting used to, there was one moment in the very beginning of the film that convinced me to settle in. Speed Racer opens with a flashback, as an older Speed, getting ready before a big race, remembers a day spent driving with his older brother Rex. This brilliant sequence begins with a young Speed barely sitting in his chair at school as he daydreams of racing in his own car. This is the moment that locked me into Speed Racer. Surrounded by childish, cartoonish drawings this moment captures exactly what it is to be a kid daydreaming of big adventures. Two minutes into Speed Racer and I'm already tearing up.
Following this is a high octane sequence that involves the older Speed driving in both a real race and a phantom one with the memory of Rex, cementing in our minds the importance the family dynamic is going to have throughout the film - Speed slows down before he can beat Rex's record, preserving his brother's memory more important to him than personal glory. Between the thrilling visual effects, the solid humour and crazy (in the best way) action, the relationship between the two brothers and the entire Racer clan acts as a touchstone to keep us grounded. Because it's not for glory that Speed's family cheer him on, but the thrill of watching him race.
There is a wonderful simplicity in the Racer family's love of racing. They want Speed to win and be the best driver he can be, but their enthusiasm is rooted in love of the sport that connects them all, not a desire to climb to the top. Speed enjoys winning that race in the beginning of the movie, but he only wants to win so that he can keep racing. Then we see that in times of strife, Speed connects to his parents through their love of racing: watching an old race drags Pops out of the mire he was in after Rex's death and Mom reminds him about the heart of racing, when the corruption of it clouds his eyes: "I go to the races to watch you make art. And it's beautiful and inspiring and everything that art should be."
Sport as art is always an apt connection, especially here given that so much of the film is about maintaining integrity in an industry that wants you to do anything but. Speed Racer's villain is Arnold Royalton, a charismatic tycoon who wants Speed to race for his company, but who then dashes all of Speed's bright-eyed dreams when he refuses. Speed's main antagonist then becomes not other racers but the corruption inherent in the sport he loves: "It doesn't matter if racing never changes. What matters is if we let racing change us."
I understand why Speed Racer was over-looked in its time. Its tone and visual aesthetic are like nothing that came before and it's bright, kitschy colour scheme and energy are the opposite of what made the Wachowskis famous with The Matrix. It is, essentially, a live-action cartoon, with cartoon Vikings and cartoon gangsters and cartoon ninjas all played by real people, and scenes with its youngest character stray too far into grating silliness, degrading the balance of humour and heart that is handled so deftly for the rest of the film. But it is a testament to the sincerity of its cast and crew that Speed Racer has stood the test of time. Yes, it's crazy and cars go vroom and sometimes jump in the air, but they belong to a sport that revitalised a grieving father and brought him closer to his son. Yes, it's cartoonish, but in it Mom sees art and Speed feels most like himself. These elements elevate Speed Racer and ground is as not just an excellent action movie but an excellent sports movie, authentic in its portrayal of a sport, a talented athlete and the people who surround and support him.
And Speed Racer has integrity. From its directors to its cast and its incredible crew, all involved played their parts with utmost sincerity and earnestness, traits not often celebrated in big-budget flicks these days, which often lean more towards sarcasm and realism than warmth and genuine love. Speed Racer is a ground-breaking feat, earnest, warm-hearted, sincere and unafraid to be unironic. its stacked cast brings nothing less than their A-game makng those moments of connection between the family honest and heart-felt. So, yes, I understand why it was over-looked in its time, but, so was Vincent Van Gogh.
Other bits:
more on Spritle: I tried really hard not to hate Spritle but his energy is so out of orbit with the rest of the characters, more suited to a Disney Channel movie than this brilliant blockbuster. I know that Speed Racer is a film for all ages but Spritle really felt out of place to me and that the cartoonish elements and lack of swearing and gore were enough to keep it family friendly without having his character take up so much space. The end.
it's funny to think about this compared to The Matrix because of course, tonally and visually, they are nothing like each other, but in terms of trying something that's never been done before and crafting a complete world with a clear visual aesthetic, then they are both very Wachowski Sisters
also I haven't quite crafted this thought, but something, something this came out a year before James Cameron's Avatar, a film that was lauded for its use of CGI in crafting a distinct world, and only one of them became famous (but only one of them is good #justiceforspeedracer)
there is also maybe a correlation between this and The Phantom Menace but I'm going to have to put more thought into all of this (#justiceforspeedracer)
anyway
I am FASCINATED by Emile Hirsch's performance in this film, Speed is so calm and sincere and polite, it's hard to believe he's based on an anime character
Emile plays his Speed so quiet and calm I can't tell if it was a choice to have their main character come across this way or if he's just not good and I can't tell (I do think he struggles with the one-liners but only because Speed's energy is so unlike a main character it's weird to hear him spew one-liners) I'm choosing to believe it's the first one and that this was a decision by the Wachowskis to make their main character cool (as in collected and calm under pressure)
I loved the colour tones for each of the characters and general aesthetic vision of all of the practical effects (set, costume, etc.) and how they leaned into the 60s vibe
and I really liked how clear it was that Speed and Trixie were friends before they were boyfriend/girlfriend and that their relationship had that foundation
and I loved how much Sparky and Trixie were members of the family
"Terrible what passes for a ninja these days."
Hiroyuki Sanada?!
Gonna post Pops' speech to Speed because it's stunning: "I made a mistake trying to tell you what to do at Cortega. You were right. I was wrong. I won't make that mistake again. I want you to know that I acted rashly. I said things I wish I hadn't. Your mother usually protects me from making an ass out of my self but I was determined to do it this time and I guess I did a pretty good job of it. I wanted to make sure you understood how sorry I was...The truth was, I couldn't have been more proud of you son. Not because you won, but because you stood up, you weren't afraid and you did what you thought was right." "So? It didn't amount to anything. It was completely meaningless." "How could it be meaningless? I saw my son become a man. I watched him act with courage and integrity and drive the pants off of every driver on the road. This is not meaningless. This is the reason for a father's life."
more Pops: "Speed, I understand that every child has to leave home, but I want you to know, that door is always open. You can always come back. Because I love you."
gonna stop before I post the whole script
but just imagine: that and Susan Sarandon's speech about art and being proud of Speed
my god!
roll on 2028 this film is definitely going to explode on its 20th anniversary
turnnoffyourmind
germansingergirl
titsay
ellievsbear
areudirty
