1961 New York, New York
Thomas Herman
Born in 1946
New York City, New York
Interviewed on 9 September 2019
By Andy Xie
It was my 15th birthday, which would’ve made the year 1961, and my present that year was a ticket to the West Side Story. Mom and Dad came, as well as a few of my best buddies, but aside from that, I don’t remember all too many details from the night. I suppose that when you see a really special work of art, you don’t always remember what you did, where you went, or how you got there. But I remember that story. Boy, do I remember that story.
It was profoundly shaking. A gripping tragedy, you could see the end coming and nothing could be done about it. At the time, I was living in the Upper East Side of New York City, and I wouldn’t say it was a complete bubble, but I did grow up without feeling or experiencing much of the mindless hate that I saw in that film. My school always prided itself on rejecting bigotry, so to see the Jets and Sharks feuding on the West Side, with an intolerance for all things different than themselves, was both a riveting social commentary of the times and ultimately a seminal moment of growing up.
I had never seen a musical before, but I remember being astounded by the ability of dance and music to compel the story forward. One song – “Officer Krupke” – has stuck with me vividly: sometime in the first half of the film, when the Jets are trying to sweet talk an officer, one man remarks that “I’m depraved on account of I’m deprived.” At the time, I knew it was profound, but what really struck me was how often I’d continue to hear a similar line used in court cases during jury duty years after that night in ‘61; it really was ahead of its time.
I marveled at the beauty of the lyrics in “America,” which deftly explored the promise of the America Dream but also the sacrifices needed to leave one’s home. It was like listening to Shakespearean poetry for our time. Musicals have a reputation of being light and frothy, yet this was anything but. The harshness of the songs deepened the sense of tragedy and sharpened its themes.
And what an experience it was to be in a full theater – to witness art collectively. It was as if the audience were a character itself, collectively gasping, teetering, breathing, and ultimately adding to the overall intensity of the experience. We were all in awe at the power of storytelling. Actually, those two friends that came to see the film with me – one was so captured with what he saw that he went on to become a writer for Broadway; the other became a television producer. He’s now the head of NBC news.
We all live by stories, and the West Side Story truly captured so much of what it was like to live in a big city like New York at the time. Even now, with the growth of nationalism and terrorism, its themes ring true. My wife and I live in Battery Park City, near the southern end of Manhattan. Across the street from us is Ground Zero. I don’t have to look far to find the mindless hatred and bigotry that the film brought my attention to all those years ago.
I’ve watched and re-watched the West Side Story many times over the course of my life. But I must admit I’ve never seen any of the newer versions; I’m afraid they’ll delude my memory. It was really that good.
