Wherefore art thou, oh great musicals of the American theater? Most of you exist in the distant past, when masterful minds came together to extend the boundaries of the form.

One of those musicals is in residence at the Benedum Center through Aug. 12, and the decades haven't dimmed its freshness or harsh truth. The Civic Light Opera is ending its 1990 season with "West Side Story," a work that remains as relevant today for its study of gangland insanity and youthful passion as it was in the much more innocent year of 1957.

The CLO's version, which opened last night, is a Robert L. Young & Associates production that has been touring for two months. It is an accomplished mounting that has respect for its material and an energetic, almost eager-beaver appeal. But this "West Side Story" also is intimidated by the creative brilliance of the magnificent Bernstein-Sondheim score, Arthur Laurents' forceful transference of "Romeo and Juliet" to the streets of New York and Jerome Robbins' galvanizing direction and choreography.

In Alan Johnson's reproduction of Robbins' staging, the lyric beauty and dissonant social issues have been blunted by a bland, all-purpose efficiency. Robbins' choreography should take to the air with balletic grace while retaining the edge of show dancing. Here, the dancers manage the steps with urgency, but not enough breadth to occupy the fervent emotional spaces.

The production moves with fluid swiftness, often too breathlessly to let either the dramatic or comedic moments hit their target. It's clear something is amiss when Chino shoots Tony and the audience chuckles instead of gasps.

And the show looks far better than it sounds. Campbell Baird's economical sets -- with their abstract fire escapes and dark corners -- and Ken Billington's atmospheric lighting are assets, as are Jonathan Bixby's garish and tattered costumes.

Unfortunately, none of the voices in this cast fully fills Bernstein's music with the expressive phrasing it demands. Sondheim's words -- his first for a Broadway musical -- occasionally make their whimsical, romantic or explosive impact, but an unpredictable sound system and some lax enunciation blur many of the savory lines. The orchestra has been reduced to the point where the score often sounds skimpy.

While no character is given an individual reading, Michael Gruber's Riff is authoritative in its brash attack and unrelenting tension. The lovers Maria and Tony are Betsy True and Peter Gantenbein, who are attractive and buoyant, but not commanding enough to seize the show's romantic center and earn our sympathy.

Jackie Lowe has a winning exuberance as Anita, yet she registers little of the girl's intrepid irony. As Bernardo, Robert Montano brings personality to a Puerto Rican boy who is wound up like a spring. Daniel P. Hannafin swallows most of his words as detective Schrank.

The production's high point comes in Act II, when the manic Jets offer a blisteringly funny rendition of "Officer Krupke." While the cast works hard to lead the drama to its shattering climax, the intensity hasn't been built with sufficient momentum, and the final scene sits there with static emptiness.

We are left admiring this "West Side Story" not for its tragic shadings but for its extroverted personality. The production rarely takes on the sharpness that marks the deadly knives Riff, Bernardo and Tony use to bring home the message of racial intolerance.

Society hasn't come very far since this show first appeared. It may even have regressed, and a production of "West Side Story" that doesn't strike at our conscience can't be said to have told the entire story.