Julio Ricardo Varela is the editorial director for Futuro Media.
At least this time around, moviegoers will see vestiges of the San Juan Hill section of the Upper West Side as it crumbled under the gentrification push for a new Lincoln Center. They will hear more Spanish in the dialogue — even specific Puerto Rican terms — without subtitles and translations. They will notice more Latino and Latina actors, an Afro-Boricua Anita and a group of Sharks proud of their heritage.
Still, it was difficult to enjoy the film; instead of leaving me feeling pride and joy as a Puerto Rican, it left pressing questions unanswered: First, why retell this story? Second, when will we ever see actual Puerto Ricans tell big-budget, English-language Puerto Rican stories on the big screen?
While Spielberg’s “West Side Story” may become a critical and commercial success that could actually open doors for Latino and Latina actors, there still needs to be a critical discussion about why this one story has been the only concrete mainstream example of the Puerto Rican experience.
Frances Negrón-Muntaner, a Columbia University professor who has studied the stereotypes and issues of identity in “West Side Story” for years, recently addressed how even making a “better” version of the film was still problematic. “Bringing ‘West Side Story’ back to life under these conditions — rather than using these resources to support and amplify Latino voices — is to reinscribe its symbolic importance, affirm white cultural authority, and prevent other narratives from coming into being,” she wrote.
The reality is simple: In the overwhelmingly White world of Hollywood, the Puerto Rican experience is “West Side Story” and nothing else. There have been a few films that focus on Puerto Rican characters (“El Cantante,” “Mucho Mucho Amor,” “Piñero”), but none had the cultural influence and impact of the original “West Side Story,” which managed to reduce Puerto Rican identity to women who are “virginal and childlike or sexual and fiery” and men who “are violent and clannish,” as Negrón-Muntaner so aptly put it in her latest essay.
Even if the Spielberg version tries to give such stereotypes a bit more dignity and dimension, the final product still feels stale and tired. The familiar characters might play to the mainstream, forever etched in musical history, but they are and always have been just a tiny sliver of what it means to be Puerto Rican.
In recent years, Puerto Rico has gotten increased attention, often for tragic reasons. Many scars from Hurricane Maria’s destruction in 2017 are still present today. A fiscal control board, blessed by both Democrats and Republicans, continues to implement austerity measures that squeeze any hope of a future. Political corruption and anger at the political class led to the 2019 resignation of a governor amid mass protests. Questions of status and the island’s relationship with the United States still remain unanswered.
Puerto Ricans must constantly fight for visibility and real political agency. It’s time our stories reflect our contributions and this broader ongoing struggle.
This remake of “West Side Story,” by revising some of the “mistakes” from back in the day, might win over more skeptics, but it does nothing to elevate Puerto Rican storytellers. Someone like Spielberg has the power to tell new stories instead of recycling a production aimed more at baby boomers than actual Puerto Ricans. Spielberg did hold a town hall in Puerto Rico about concerns over “West Side Story,” but it was obvious that he was going to do the film no matter what.
Which is why we must take this opportunity to promote Puerto Rican stories by actual Puerto Ricans.
