Anyone glancing at the cover art on the show program of Moonlight's "West Side Story" is in for a surprise. With its cartoonish lettering and whimsical style, the quaint, vaguely cheery design suggests something along the lines of a romantic musical comedy -- "She Loves Me," perhaps. Thankfully, nothing could be farther from the truth in director Steven Glaudini's dark, grounded production of the classic musical tragedy.

Allan Snyder and Ayme Olivo

Copyright©2007 Ken Jacques

It was exactly 50 years ago today that the original Broadway production premiered out-of-town at the National Theatre in the sticky steam bath that is Washington, D.C., in August. Painstakingly created by four eager young Jewish men with a story to tell, the superbly integrated musical adaptation of Shakespeare's "Romeo and Juliet" was a long-running success, if somewhat overshadowed by the safer nostalgia of that season's bigger hit, "The Music Man." It wasn't until a few years later, in 1961, that the restructured (and slightly tamer) film version made "West Side Story" the well-known classic it is today, picking up 10 Academy Awards (including Best Picture) along the way.

For those most familiar with the film, Glaudini brings this "West Side Story" back to its darker roots (much as he did with the sinister "Cabaret" three years ago, his most recent Moonlight production). His firm directorial hand doesn't shy away from the brutally horrific, as in what is usually politely referred to as Anita's "taunting scene" with the "American" gang, the Jets. There's no question here that what we are witnessing is not the highly stylized "taunting" violations of "Man of La Mancha" or "The Fantasticks," but a disturbingly raw gang rape in progress. Similarly, even in comic numbers like "Gee, Officer Krupke," Glaudini grounds his Jets with a straightforward desperation that immediately sets them apart from the lightweight chorus boys of the film.

Anyone wondering what a "West Side Story" might have looked like in the hands of Michael Bennett or Gower Champion need only notice Glaudini's fluid staging, which includes several almost-cinematic crossovers during scene changes, in a very effective use of the passerelle.

It's interesting to note the division of directorial and choreographic duties in this production, for although the notoriously egomaniacal Jerome Robbins will forever be immortalized with a box around his name for both his direction and choreography of the "entire original production," it is widely acknowledged today that librettist Arthur Laurents and others helped Robbins with the direction as well. Choreographing this production is Carlos Mendoza, and his partnership with Mr. Glaudini appears to have paid off well here, letting each accomplish the herculean (and often very separate) tasks of directing and choreographing a huge dance piece with an equally daunting dramatic storyline.

Indeed, "West Side Story" is generally thought of primarily as a dance piece, but Mr. Laurents' contribution is too great to be overlooked so easily. His concise libretto even manages to change the reason that Tony (Romeo) doesn't receive the message that Maria (Juliet) is still alive, from Shakespeare's all-too-convenient plague to the musical's prejudice -- the factor basic to the story's theme -- in a rare improvement of Shakespeare himself.

In keeping with Glaudini's cinematic, streamlined approach, he and Mendoza have excised the show's big second-act "Somewhere" dream ballet (cut from the film version as well). Though a few purists may scoff, it's not greatly missed in the pair's impressively staged production.

The purists may have some issues, too, with Mendoza's slightly simplified version of Robbins' choreography. For a large, mostly non-Equity cast that includes no fewer than 33 dancers, Mendoza's choreography is remarkably clean and, for the most part, impressive.

Jennifer Rias and Shark Girls

Copyright©2007 Ken Jacques

Mendoza has also modified much of Peter Gennaro's original choreography for the Puerto Rican gang, the Sharks. The more authentically Latin steps absolutely sizzle in the Dance at the Gym's mambo section, though some of the choreography for the rooftop "America" seems repetitive. As Anita, Jennifer Rias, with her effortless-looking extension, and the other Shark girls (including a fine-voiced and funny Joyelle Cabato as Rosalia) are excellent dancers. Their skirt-twirling choreography, though, could stand to be a tad flashier to rise to the level of Leonard Bernstein's horn-happy orchestrations.

While we're at it, if there is one improvement the film version made at all, it's the addition of the Shark boys to the re-envisioned "America" sequence. If an entire dream ballet can be cut here, surely the battle-of-the-sexes version of "America" that helped win Rita Moreno and George Chakiris their Oscars in the film can be recreated on stage. Even so, Elijah Reyes (Bernardo) is a commanding presence as the leader of a talented, though underused, gang of nine Shark boys, and Brian Conway is strong in the pivotal role of Maria's betrothed, Chino.

As the fated lovers Tony and Maria, Allan Snyder and Ayme Olivo are a well-matched pair. Snyder's strong tenor lends itself well to difficult solos like "Something's Coming" and "Maria." Olivo is a sweet, girlish Maria who by evening's end displays a rapidly found maturity, and shows off a confident soprano that belies her equally strong mid-range.

Because of the way the show is structured, the Jets are showcased more than their Puerto Rican counterparts. As Riff, Robert Pieranunzi leads a smoothly-voiced and -danced "Cool," with able support from the imposing Mitch Lewis (as firecracker Action), Jeffrey Scott Parsons (subtle, as wisecracking A-rab), Andrew Ruesch (heartbreaking as the gang's youngest, Baby John), Justin Weatherby (as the menacing Snowboy), and David Marchesano, Kevin Morin, and Aaron Marcotte rounding out the Anglo boys. The leggy Anna Schnaitter and Brenna Delay lend a feminine touch as lead girlfriends Graziella and Velma, and the versatile Jennifer Bishop trades in her feather boas and floral prints from her star turn in last month's "Me and My Girl" to take on the role of tomboyish Anybodys.

Elijah Reyes, Robert Pieranunzi, and Ensemble

Copyright©2007 Ken Jacques

The somewhat peripheral adult roles -- with no singing or dancing required, usually among the easiest to cast -- are a bit uneven here. As Doc, Ralph Johnson's reactions to the violence all around him are gut-wrenching, and Jaysen Waller (as stammering dance organizer Glad Hand) is a study in getting the most mileage possible out of a character on stage for about five minutes. Don Evans' police lieutenant, Schrank, however, is hampered by a lackadaisical monotone delivery that is woefully out of place in the elevated emotional intensity of Glaudini's mostly well-cast production.

With musical direction by Elan McMahan, the 22-piece orchestra is expertly conducted by Ken Gammie, doing almost full justice to Bernstein's one-of-a-kind score (with only five string players, though, he could easily use twice that number to bring out the lushness of the arrangements).

The vertical set (courtesy of Starlight Theatre) evokes the claustrophobic nature of Manhattan city streets, and Steven Young's lighting design is nicely subtle. Carlotta Malone and Mela Hoyt-Heydon's costumes are accurate, though many of the gang members' jeans have a relaxed fit that looks too contemporary. Skinny jeans are definitely making a comeback nowadays, everywhere except on stage in 1950s-era shows where they belong, it seems.

But if suspicious-looking jeans and some other minor imperfections are the worst things that can be said of this "West Side Story," take Maria's request and dye them all red for all I care.

'Twould be a small price to pay for an overwhelmingly outstanding production that could very well prove to be the highlight of Moonlight's already strong summer season.

VIEW PROGRAM HERE (PDF)