The Curse of West Side Story - By N.L. Belardes
A death in the director’s family. A staff member falls backwards ten feet just before the curtain drops; and an entire gangland to educate about the ills of street violence in a hopeless effort to make a difference except in the lives of a very few. Saturday night I went to see Bakersfield Music Theatre’s completely modernized version of West Side Story with friends Matildakay, Flower in the Dale and Bambi (read Flower's gritty review)
Bambi had said, “There’s something going on down by the theatre.” Sadly there were emergency vehicles parked right outside the Harvey Auditorium just moments before the curtain dropped. We hoped the show would still go on as we made our way inside.
The musical itself was a series of magical urban street scenes filled with punker and Latino street gangs pitted against each other (Sharks versus the Jets). Director Shay Burke choreographed a major production of yesteryear’s lingo meets contemporary urban street-hating. Sure the production was huge, but then so is the problem with gangs in Bakersfield. Not sure an 'all singing all dancing' extravaganza is going to impact the hood I live in just mere blocks from the performance. I didn’t see any fliers that said, “Hey street punks, come and watch this.” You have to hand it to the director, it is a good idea in how to get the money-holding community involved. The target was people who have pocketbooks, who could mentor and help in the gang problem by presenting an over-dramatic glimpse in how the gang world does not talk or operate. I guess the idea is there is conflict in youth. In Bakersfield you wouldn't see punkers vs. Latinos.
This was a musical with lingo from 1957. Because of its unrealistic attempt at realism I had to try to wake myself up from the dead lingo and bring myself into the overall theme of conflicted youth and innocent death. Yet, the pocketbooks were hopefully swayed by the dark urban scenes, great costumes and mostly enchanting singing. Sure, there were too many dance numbers, a few flat songs, and the tweaker dancer from the punk gang was freaky, but the main actors and actresses performed with expert showmanship.
During the intermission I inquired why there were ambulances outside the theatre. I discovered that one of the staff had been sitting on a railing and fell backwards and dropped ten feet. Although that and the death in the director’s family seemed to have cursed the show, the staff member I interviewed did say, “The show must go on…” And it did.
Bambi had said, “There’s something going on down by the theatre.” Sadly there were emergency vehicles parked right outside the Harvey Auditorium just moments before the curtain dropped. We hoped the show would still go on as we made our way inside.
The musical itself was a series of magical urban street scenes filled with punker and Latino street gangs pitted against each other (Sharks versus the Jets). Director Shay Burke choreographed a major production of yesteryear’s lingo meets contemporary urban street-hating. Sure the production was huge, but then so is the problem with gangs in Bakersfield. Not sure an 'all singing all dancing' extravaganza is going to impact the hood I live in just mere blocks from the performance. I didn’t see any fliers that said, “Hey street punks, come and watch this.” You have to hand it to the director, it is a good idea in how to get the money-holding community involved. The target was people who have pocketbooks, who could mentor and help in the gang problem by presenting an over-dramatic glimpse in how the gang world does not talk or operate. I guess the idea is there is conflict in youth. In Bakersfield you wouldn't see punkers vs. Latinos.
This was a musical with lingo from 1957. Because of its unrealistic attempt at realism I had to try to wake myself up from the dead lingo and bring myself into the overall theme of conflicted youth and innocent death. Yet, the pocketbooks were hopefully swayed by the dark urban scenes, great costumes and mostly enchanting singing. Sure, there were too many dance numbers, a few flat songs, and the tweaker dancer from the punk gang was freaky, but the main actors and actresses performed with expert showmanship.
During the intermission I inquired why there were ambulances outside the theatre. I discovered that one of the staff had been sitting on a railing and fell backwards and dropped ten feet. Although that and the death in the director’s family seemed to have cursed the show, the staff member I interviewed did say, “The show must go on…” And it did.
This entry was posted by N.L. Belardes, on
Monday, January 30, 2006.
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