Like many people, I devoured E.L. Doctorow's sprawling novel, "Ragtime" prior to the release of the film. I also wondered how a director could handle characters known in the book only by their positions in the family. And how could more than a dozen threads that run contemporaneously throughout the novel be woven neatly together in a 2 1/2 hour movie? The answer to both questions is, "imperfectly."
Robert Altman was originally hired to direct "Ragtime." But he had a falling out with producer Dino DeLaurentis and backed out of the project.
So Milos Forman was brought on board. He had directed "One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest" to 5 Oscars, including Best Picture and Best Director in 1975, and would achieve even greater success three years after "Ragtime," when "Amadeus" picked up eight Academy Awards, including Best Picture and a second Best Director Oscar for Forman in 1984.
For "Ragtime," Forman assembled a first-rate cast. James Olsen as Father, Mary Steenburgen as Mother, and Brad Dourif as her Younger Brother just seem to spring off the pages of Doctorow's book. The bedeviled, ill-fated Howard Rollins, Jr. plays the equally doomed Coalhouse Walker, Jr. with great charm, passion and intensity. His is a star-making performance.
Numerous others in the large cast bear mention, but when "Ragtime" was released in December 1981, James Cagney's heralded return to the screen after a 20-year absence got the most ink. Cagney most likely would not have appeared in the film had Altman remained director. Milos Forman lived in the same New York neighborhood as Cagney, and persuaded him to play the fictional Police Commissioner, Rhinelander Waldo. He does so with a crusty, irascibility that is fun to watch, until he is an accessory to murder.
Robert Joy is memorable as the maniacal Harry K. Thaw; Moses Gunn is suitably dignified as Booker T. Washington; and Donald O'Connor and Pat O'Brien (who had made many pictures with James Cagney in the 1930s) are thrown in for nostalgia's sake and for good measure. "Ragtime" also helped to spark some new careers. Elizabeth McGovern, in only her second film (after "Ordinary People"), plays Evelyn Nesbit as somewhat ditzy, but she is certainly lovely to look at. Jeff Daniels made his film debut here, and Mandy Patinkin convincingly moves from tenement-dwelling street peddler to visionary silent film maker with great dash and style.
The production design, costumes and set decoration are jaw-dropping. Randy Newman's score is by turns wistful and jubilant. It's one of the best film scores of all time. Creating the look of this film and its soundtrack were obviously labors of love.
Where "Ragtime" goes wrong is in scrapping about 75% of the text of the novel. Perhaps it would not have been possible to do Doctorow's novel full justice except as a miniseries. Even so, devoting the bulk of the screenplay to Coalhouse Walker's search for racial justice throws the movie off-kilter. There is no reason why the movie could not have woven a carefully selected group of Doctorow's plot lines into a more satisfying whole. As it is, screenwriter Michael Weller's choice to concentrate on the sad crusade of Coalhouse Walker at the expense of other, equally interesting characters and their stories is a misstep. It's not a fatal one, but it drains away much of the tremendous energy built up in the first, glorious hour of "Ragtime."
In 1906, America was a cold, lonely and sometimes very dangerous place for women, immigrants and minorities of all kinds. The movie alludes to what the book thoroughly explores—that wealthy white men lived lives of bloated excess, while women were hamstrung by lack of opportunity, and seldom accorded any real respect. They were often exploited sexually and rarely taken seriously. First generation Americans of various nationalities pitted themselves one against another. Blacks occupied the lowest rung of all, and risked their lives if they tried to get ahead playing by white men's rules.
Coalhouse Walker's desire for equality with white men is, of course, reasonable, fair and just. In a very effective montage, Coalhouse pursues every legal means of redressing the original grievance committed against him. Understandably, when he gets nowhere, he decides to fight his battle on his own terms. He gains some unlikely allies along the way, in a subplot that provides both optimism and some comic relief, Coalhouse's tragic story finally eclipses those of all the other characters who are also victims of prejudice or injustice in one form or another.
"Ragtime" is not a failure, not by any stretch. The acting is uniformly fine, and it is a marvel to look at. Despite its flaws, "Ragtime" remains a well-intentioned film that yields many pleasures and reveals a good many truths about American life one hundred years ago.
Robert Altman was originally hired to direct "Ragtime." But he had a falling out with producer Dino DeLaurentis and backed out of the project.
So Milos Forman was brought on board. He had directed "One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest" to 5 Oscars, including Best Picture and Best Director in 1975, and would achieve even greater success three years after "Ragtime," when "Amadeus" picked up eight Academy Awards, including Best Picture and a second Best Director Oscar for Forman in 1984.
For "Ragtime," Forman assembled a first-rate cast. James Olsen as Father, Mary Steenburgen as Mother, and Brad Dourif as her Younger Brother just seem to spring off the pages of Doctorow's book. The bedeviled, ill-fated Howard Rollins, Jr. plays the equally doomed Coalhouse Walker, Jr. with great charm, passion and intensity. His is a star-making performance.
Numerous others in the large cast bear mention, but when "Ragtime" was released in December 1981, James Cagney's heralded return to the screen after a 20-year absence got the most ink. Cagney most likely would not have appeared in the film had Altman remained director. Milos Forman lived in the same New York neighborhood as Cagney, and persuaded him to play the fictional Police Commissioner, Rhinelander Waldo. He does so with a crusty, irascibility that is fun to watch, until he is an accessory to murder.
Robert Joy is memorable as the maniacal Harry K. Thaw; Moses Gunn is suitably dignified as Booker T. Washington; and Donald O'Connor and Pat O'Brien (who had made many pictures with James Cagney in the 1930s) are thrown in for nostalgia's sake and for good measure. "Ragtime" also helped to spark some new careers. Elizabeth McGovern, in only her second film (after "Ordinary People"), plays Evelyn Nesbit as somewhat ditzy, but she is certainly lovely to look at. Jeff Daniels made his film debut here, and Mandy Patinkin convincingly moves from tenement-dwelling street peddler to visionary silent film maker with great dash and style.
The production design, costumes and set decoration are jaw-dropping. Randy Newman's score is by turns wistful and jubilant. It's one of the best film scores of all time. Creating the look of this film and its soundtrack were obviously labors of love.
Where "Ragtime" goes wrong is in scrapping about 75% of the text of the novel. Perhaps it would not have been possible to do Doctorow's novel full justice except as a miniseries. Even so, devoting the bulk of the screenplay to Coalhouse Walker's search for racial justice throws the movie off-kilter. There is no reason why the movie could not have woven a carefully selected group of Doctorow's plot lines into a more satisfying whole. As it is, screenwriter Michael Weller's choice to concentrate on the sad crusade of Coalhouse Walker at the expense of other, equally interesting characters and their stories is a misstep. It's not a fatal one, but it drains away much of the tremendous energy built up in the first, glorious hour of "Ragtime."
In 1906, America was a cold, lonely and sometimes very dangerous place for women, immigrants and minorities of all kinds. The movie alludes to what the book thoroughly explores—that wealthy white men lived lives of bloated excess, while women were hamstrung by lack of opportunity, and seldom accorded any real respect. They were often exploited sexually and rarely taken seriously. First generation Americans of various nationalities pitted themselves one against another. Blacks occupied the lowest rung of all, and risked their lives if they tried to get ahead playing by white men's rules.
Coalhouse Walker's desire for equality with white men is, of course, reasonable, fair and just. In a very effective montage, Coalhouse pursues every legal means of redressing the original grievance committed against him. Understandably, when he gets nowhere, he decides to fight his battle on his own terms. He gains some unlikely allies along the way, in a subplot that provides both optimism and some comic relief, Coalhouse's tragic story finally eclipses those of all the other characters who are also victims of prejudice or injustice in one form or another.
"Ragtime" is not a failure, not by any stretch. The acting is uniformly fine, and it is a marvel to look at. Despite its flaws, "Ragtime" remains a well-intentioned film that yields many pleasures and reveals a good many truths about American life one hundred years ago.