“When you’re a Jet, you’re a Jet all the way . . .” In West Side Story, the gang’s all here: the Jets and their neighborhood nemeses the Sharks in the back alleys of late-fifties NYC. They’re finger-snappin’ tough and rowdy—JDs down to their white Ts and leather. And, sure, the beatings are backed by beats composed by Leonard Bernstein, and when they rumble, the stompin’ is to the so-cool choreography of Jerome Robbins. But the West Side is the domain of youth struggling with a “social disease” that’s part poverty, part parents, and part passion. West Side Story is the dizzying rush of youth that knows no bounds.