RAGTIME: Paramount Presents...Blu-ray (Paramount, 1981) Paramount Home Video

Handsomely mounted, exceptionally nuanced and subtly underplayed to the point of perfection, director, Miloš Forman’s Ragtime (1981) remains an extraordinary picture about an unusual time in America’s evolutionary chronicle from young nation ushered into the hedonist glamor of the early 20th century. It also stockpiles a roster of mindbogglingly gifted performers, to include James Olson, Mary Steenburgen, Howard E. Rollins Jr., Brad Dourif, Elizabeth McGovern, Mandy Patinkin, Donald O’Connor, Jeff Daniels, Fran Drescher, Samuel L. Jackson, Ethan Phillips, Debbie Allen, and John Ratzenberger into its kaleidoscopic reflection of the gilded age, and, marks the final screen appearances of two Hollywood alumni, Pat O’Brien, and the legendary James Cagney, herein cast as Police Commissioner Rhinelander Waldo. Ragtime often meanders through its cornucopia of vintage Americana, sumptuously bedecked in vintage finery a la John Graysmark’s impeccable production design and John Dapper’s art direction, immaculately captured by cinematographer, Miroslav Ondrícek. Yet, it never fails to enthrall. At just a little over 2 ½ hours, and based upon E.L. Doctorow’s 1975 chart-topping historical novel, Ragtime is a magnificent, truthful and compelling tale of graft, corruption, hard knocks and vigilantism, set against the bustling, gritty metropolis of New York, with intermittent respites to the moneyed upper middle-class digs of New Rochelle and windswept/sun-filled boardwalks of Atlantic City. Parts of it were also shot in Britain, convincingly to sub in for the aforementioned locales.

If only for these virtues, to say nothing of Anna Hill Johnstone’s impressive costuming, then Ragtime would already have much going for it. Yet, even more impressive is the way Michael Weller’s screenplay, based on Heinrich von Kleist’s distillation of Doctorow’s sprawling proses, manages to weave seemingly dissimilar narrative threads into a finely wrought tapestry of life, teaming with a vitality generally ignored in period recreations, heavily involved in establishing their waxworks and moving tableaus as though it were a history that never was, painted with light for the paying customers. Ragtime, however, just feels genuine. Whether intentional or otherwise, the actors here, with varying degrees of success, embody their roles with a certain dignity for the work, but moreover, a distinct passion to ‘live’ in the moment of their performances. So, what we get is not a likeness of something we already thought to be true, but a fresh, new vigor breathed into a bygone era that was, in its time, as relevantly ‘of the moment’ as our own, where the rigidities of an imported Victorian age were suddenly, if still gradually, about to give way to the more progressive experiment that ‘was’ America at the turn-of-the-century.

Ragtime has, for far too long, been out of the public spotlight, despite its Broadway musical revival in more recent times – a movie (not a musical) whose distinct qualities and virtues, by now, ought to have branded it a bona fide classic rife for rediscovery and appreciation, instead of to endure as a critical and commercial flop it ultimately came to be regarded in its own time, perhaps, in part due to its multi-character roman à clef. Doctorow’s carnival-esque approach to livening up the past was very much of its own wrinkle in time, ostensibly, even uncomfortably to be considered passe by 1981. Yet, those intent, only on seeing Ragtime through this distorted prism of ‘quaintly’ watered down social critique, will undoubtedly find something lacking in Forman’s inability to see this exercise through to its darker, uglier truths – the sheen here, very much elevating the visuals while strangely devaluing its art into artifice. Czech-born Forman brings to the picture’s plush patina all sorts of ‘outside-looking-in’ verve for that idealized version of America much sought after by the immigrant class, eager to embrace its prosperity, only ultimately to unearth, with more than a modicum of disillusionment, a far more unusual, foreign, and, complex pantheon of iniquities. Ragtime is the beneficiary of this outsider’s perspective, while very much to foreshadow the nation’s brewing bicentennial cognizance in this ever-changing and frequently volatile American landscape.

Doctorow’s novel was a more stylized and loose depiction of America’s melting pot. The movie tries, on occasion – desperately – to be less impish and franker about the troublesome miscegenate crossroads, straddling race and class, but never entirely finds that sweet spot in ‘wokeness’ Doctorow describes as ‘correspondent’ with humanity’s common spirit “touching one another like notes in harmony.” Forman does, however, get the essential rhythm of the piece down pat; no small feat, considering the disparate nature of these mediums and considerations essential, in which all books and movies are independently conceived. Doctorow’s runaway best seller, while hardly titanic in girth, was nevertheless impressive in its ability to intermingle a slew of deep and enriching characters into a story spanning from 1900 to 1913. Weller’s screenplay achieves almost the same effect, albeit, exorcising various characters, also, Doctorow’s tropes and trimmings, while still ambitiously to imbue this translation with a lush investment in visually stimulated creative substitutes the novel could only have guessed at. So, in the end, what we get is a rather earthy, smartly turned out, and exceptionally gorgeous movie, admirable despite its shortcomings. The rights to produce Ragtime were initially acquired by Italian producer, Dino de Laurentiis for director, Robert Altman. Alas, a ‘lover’s quarrel’ between these two over creative differences resulted in Forman taking the reins, in part due to his cache as the Oscar-winning director of the 1975’s One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.

In Forman’s life story, we have a bittersweet saga worthy of a film itself. His mother, Anna, died in Auschwitz in 1943. After the man Forman believed to be his biological father, Rudolf, also died from typhus while interned in Mittelbau-Dora concentration camp the following year, the impressionable youth was to learn his real father was a Jewish architect, Otto Kohn, who had actually survived the holocaust.  Subsequently raised by uncles and family friends, Forman aspired to become a theatrical producer, but studied screenwriting at the Academy of Performing Arts in Prague, departing his homeland after the Warsaw Pact invasion of Czechoslovakia in 1968, and, long after his first failed marriage to movie star, Jana Brejchová ended in divorce in 1962. A year after his immigration to the U.S., Forman divorced his second wife, Czech actress and singer, Věra Křesadlová. A fallow romantic period then followed, in which Forman filled his days with his creative genius on film, and, as a professor emeritus at Columbia University, before marrying for a third time, to Martina Zbořilová in 1999. Ragtime catches Forman’s career still at a rising apex, to be capped off by the stunning success of Amadeus 3 years later. A badly ailing James Cagney, came out of a 20-year self-imposed retirement to play Commissioner Waldo – a character not in Doctorow’s novel.

Of the many crisscrossing lives depicted in the novel, Ragtime – the movie – focuses on 3 evolving threads – the tale of an impoverished street artist, Tateh (Mandy Patinkin) who supports his young daughter (Jenny Nichols) by creating flip-books, eventually to become a filmmaker; ‘Gibson Girl’, Evelyn Nesbit Shaw (Elizabeth McGovern), whose husband, Henry (Robert Joy) – the mad millionaire, publicly executes aged architect, Stanford White (Norman Mailer) in the middle of Madison Square Gardens, and, the bittersweet story of Coalhouse Walker, Jr. (Howard E. Rollins Jr.) who, upon the untimely death of his lover, Sarah (Debbie Allen), with whom he has sired a child and planned to wed, now seeks blind justice after his car is desecrated by prejudiced fire chief, Willie Conklin (Kenneth McMillan). Forman concentrates much of his efforts on this latter story, otherwise to remain in the backdrop of Doctorow’s novel, but herein, reviewed through the eyes of empathetic whites, ‘mother’ (Mary Steenburgen) and ‘father’ (James Olson), the connective tissue between this and the trajectory of Evelyn’s story, linked by Brad Dourif’s ‘younger brother’ – who has hopes of inheriting the firework factory he helps to manage now, but applies his craft in service to Coalhouse’s cause to inflict vigilante justice on the city’s firehouses.

In 1981, much of the critical consternation heaped upon Ragtime centered on McGovern’s gratuitous nude scenes. These did nothing to advance the plot, though much to earn the picture its ‘R’ rating from the MPAA. Odd, however, the basic critical response to Forman’s hotchpotch of Americana should come under severe scrutiny while his contemporary, Robert Altman, could do no wrong similarly with such incongruent narrative threads. As with the music to have inspired this generation, the rhythm of Ragtime – the movie – goes well beyond the great American songbook or even the performances, of which Howard E. Rollins Jr. was justly singled out for a Best Actor nomination at Oscar-time. Rollins, a schoolteacher, was also acknowledged for his work with a Golden Globe Award for Best Newcomer – rather insultingly, to lose out to Pia Zadora. Yet, Ragtime’s milieu of disheveled lives caught in happenstance, bring about vignettes - both fêted and outrageous. Forman’s modus operandi here is not to provide us with a moving tapestry faithful to the historical record, rather, an emotionally-driven facsimile where the likes of a J.P Morgan (Robert Bisset), Harry Houdini (Jeffrey DeMunn), Teddy Roosevelt (Robert Boyd) and Booker T. Washington (Moses Gunn) might have existed. But even at 2 ½ hrs., Forman has no choice, except to distill much of the context and characterizations in Doctorow’s Ragtime into a Coles Notes’ abstract, emblematic of a civilization in flux, relying on the actors to fill in these gaps with their presence and presence of mind. Forman’s non-linear approach to recreating this snapshot, caught between history and fiction, deemed as disorienting in ’81, has since caught up to contempo film-maker’s temperaments and tastes. If anything, Ragtime makes much more sense of the world it was trying to embody then - now, than it ever did back then. And Forman, with his own immigrant’s view of America – the not so beautiful – has come to conclusions about the vivacity, virtue, venality and sway of a nation – the idea of America greater than its parts, and, firmly fermented in the hearts and minds of those tired, huddled masses, yearning to breathe free.

Ragtime begins in earnest with a discombobulated series of images, some combined with newsreel montages, depicting the celebrity class of its time - Houdini, Roosevelt, Stanford White – the New York crème de la crème of a bygone era, set to the tinkling piano of Coalhouse Walker, Jr. Millionaire industrialist, Harry Kendall Thaw stirs a ruckus after White unveils a nude statue atop Madison Square Garden, presumably modeled on Thaw’s wife, Evelyn Nesbit. Convinced White has deflowered his wife, Thaw executes him with a pistol during an elegant soiree. Meanwhile, an upper-class family in New Rochelle is marginally scandalized after their maid, Brigit (Hoolihand Burke) discovers a naked black baby abandoned in their garden. Mother, takes the child in and soon, finds compassion in her heart for Sarah, the near-mute woman who bore the babe out of wedlock. The family take Sarah in. Not long thereafter, Coalhouse reveals himself to be the baby’s father and proposes marriage. Sarah is grateful, but naïve. After Coalhouse’s car is defiled by members of the local fire brigade led by Willie Conklin, Coalhouse first seeks representation from the local constabulary. And while P.C. O'Donnell (Jeff Daniels) is deeply sympathetic to Coalhouse’s indignation after having discovered horse excrement placed on his front seat, he is powerless to exact the justice Coalhouse seeks. Driven to vigilantism, Coalhouse and his cohorts ambush the firefighters at night, killing many and wounding others. Meanwhile, Sarah, believes she can speak directly to the President on Coalhouse’s behalf. Instead, she is bludgeoned in the crowd of on-lookers by police, later, to expire from her wounds, leaving Coalhouse to pursue his crusade against the elitist power structure responsible for his sorrow. Younger brother offers his services as an explosives’ expert. Soon, Coalhouse and his men are inflicting fear across the city.

Meanwhile, having witness White’s murder at Madison Square Gardens, younger brother becomes obsessed with Thaw’s wife, Evelyn, whom he briefly courts on the sly. To spare her husband’s life, Evelyn agrees to lie to the court about his sanity in exchange for a million-dollar payoff, much to the strenuous objections of Thaw’s mother (Eloise Taylor – actually, Mrs. Pat O’Brien). However, when Thaw’s attorney, Delmas (Pat O'Brien) catches her and younger brother in a passionate flagrante delicto, the offer of remuneration evaporates into a paltry $25,000 to keep Evelyn’s infidelity a secret. Nevertheless, Evelyn is considered a celebrity. She also encounters street artist, Tateh on the lower East Side, witnessing him cast his own unfaithful spouse (Fran Drescher) into the streets. Ostracized by their white community and under siege from reporters, Father and Mother leave for Atlantic City where they encounter Tateh, now a silent film director on a photoplay, starring Evelyn. Mother is attracted to Tateh and she and Father quarrel. Coalhouse’s rebels take the Pierpont Morgan Library hostage. Police Commissioner Rhinelander Waldo plots to use Coalhouse’s child as his bargaining chip to snuff him out. Mother staunchly refuses. Mother and Father split, with Father offering to aid Waldo while Mother departs with Coalhouse’s baby for parts unknown. Booker T. Washington fails to procure Coalhouse’s surrender. Conklin is made to apologize to Coalhouse and Waldo, disgusted by his bigotry, has him arrested. Having achieved what he set out to do, Coalhouse plans to surrender if Waldo permits his entourage their escape unmolested by police, while Father volunteers to remain as Coalhouse’s hostage. This agreement is only half-successful. Younger brother helps Coalhouse’s cohorts disappear into the night. However, as Coalhouse surrenders, he is gunned down on Waldo's orders. Ragtime concludes with another montage. We see, Evelyn, having made a great success in Vaudeville. Thaw is released from the asylum. Younger Brother returns to his former career at the fireworks company and Father quietly observes as Mother departs with Tateh from their home in New Rochelle, determined to care for Coalhouse and Sarah’s infant son.

At age 81, James Cagney agreed to appear in Ragtime only after Milos Forman’s first choice for a ‘name’ above the title – Jack Nicholson – inexplicably bowed out. Mis-diagnosed in his later years with glaucoma, but actually diabetes, Cagney had also suffered a mild stroke in 1977. While he ostensibly recovered from this latter setback, it deprived him of several passions, including horseback riding and dancing. Forman’s invitation to partake of Ragtime gave the aged actor a much-need boost in morale. “Everything fades but talent,” Forman later commented, “I think he's some kind of genius. His instinct, it's just unbelievable. I could just stay at home. One of the qualities of a brilliant actor is that things look better on the screen than the set. Jimmy has that quality.” Cagney, who had not made a movie since 1962’s One, Two, Three for Billy Wilder, a picture and the experience of making it, he would rather to forget - having met Forman ‘socially’ in Connecticut several years before, finally agreed to partake of Ragtime on two conditions. First, Cagney would not sign a contract, and second, he could pull out of the picture as little as 3 days before shooting began, if failing health precluded his participation. Forman willingly agreed to these terms, but kept them a virtual secret from de Laurentiis and Paramount. For Cagney, however, the experience of coming back to the screen proved poignant. Crowds mobbed him as he departed the QE2 in Southampton, a show of affection unseen, even for the more popular stars of the time. And the reception to his return was even more gratifying on Cagney’s first day at Shepperton Studios, where he was greeted with thunderous applause from the British film crew whose standing ovation seemed to go on forever.

Turning to Forman with tears streaming down his cheeks, Cagney whispered, “I guess I’ll do your movie.” Cagney, having matured his craft in the days when far more was expected of the ‘star’ class, not only stayed to shoot his close-ups, but remained on the set for the reverse shots in which he did not appear, feeding his fellow actors their lines to maintain the continuity of the scene, reinstating his reputation among the troop as professionalism plus.  Cagney also encouraged Forman to hire Donald O’Connor for the minor role of Evelyn Nesbitt’s dance instructor and Madison Square gaslight-era entertainer – a part, that nevertheless, afforded O’Connor one final opportunity to perform a ‘lighter than air’ dance routine on celluloid. Co-star, Howard Rollins admitted to feeling intimidated by the aura of Cagney until he actually met the man in the flesh. Upon Rollins query for a bit of free acting advice, Cagney explained, “You walk in, plant yourself squarely on both feet, look the other fella in the eye, and tell the truth.” Cagney also told Rollins the best way to ‘die’ on camera was to “just die!”  Rollins later admitted, “It worked. Who would know more about dying than him?”  However, the most prestigious honor for Cagney came when he and costar, Pat O’Brien attended the Queen Mother's command birthday performance at the London Palladium. Cagney’s appearance so startled the Queen ‘mum’, she took to her feet in hearty applause and later, broke protocol to attend Cagney in a private conversation backstage.

Viewed today, Ragtime is arguably a movie that would never be made – its ‘quaint’ shadings of racism turning a basically honest man into a vigilante – considered too ‘politically incorrect’ for our ‘woke’ times. In the editing process, Forman lost 13-minutes of Randy Newman’s music cues; also, a planned performance by Scatman Crothers, singing ‘Change Your Way’ – a song and performer otherwise never to appear in the finished film.  In the formative stage of production, Forman had wanted Doctorow to collaborate on the movie’s screenplay. Alas, the author saw his own literary work as more of a 10-part miniseries than a movie. An agreement could not be reached to bridge this creative chasm. The Coalhouse Walker narrative in Ragtime is actually a rehash of Heinrich Wilhelm von Kleist’s 19th-century German novella ‘Michael Kohlhaus’ in which a Brandenburg horseman, made to pay a ‘toll’ by a member of the nobility, only to observe as his beloved stallions are destroyed, exacts his own justice on the perpetrators. But even Von Kleist's story was once removed from a 16th-century story, similarly themed. And Kohlhass’ story had already been told on film in Der Rebell (1969). America was a relatively 'young' nation on the cusp of some very heady times when ragtime gripped its sunny shores. Forman's movie reincarnation is absent of the embalming quality that oft plagues such excursions into antiquity, and, better still, manages to typify all the exoticism and excitement of that faded generation for the present age, frustratingly bent on its own 'woke' hypocrisies. Moreover, it brings that crazy quilt of a past rushing back to life in ways that have not appeared to age at all. Very finely done, indeed.  

Ragtime fittingly arrives on Blu-ray via the Paramount Presents…prestige line-up. And while the studio has deigned to include not only the original theatrical cut, but also, Forman’s director’s edit, running almost 38-minutes longer, Paramount has mastered this latter version from a work print, rather than going back and re-editing the excised footage into a properly remastered scan from the best surviving elements. The work print is in very rough shape. Setting aside the included scenes in B&W, for which presumably, no other elements survive, the rest of the footage here is badly faded, and, suffers from the added shortcomings of edge enhancement, minor chroma bleeding and a barrage of age-related artifacts. Frankly, it is a real slog to get through the director’s cut of Ragtime – housed on a separate Blu-ray herein. And truthfully, the extended scenes do not really add much to the continuity of the story, nor our overall pleasure in seeing these actors in ‘more’ of the same. Now, for the good news. The theatrical cut of Ragtime looks gorgeous. Here, Paramount has gone back to a competently archived master and done their due diligence to create a new 4K scan, dumbed down to 1080p with predictably fine results. Color saturation is plush, and contrast could scarcely be better. A hint of black crush persists, but is, if not forgivable, then none too distracting either. A light smattering of grain looks indigenous to its source. Ragtime features a 5.1 DTS audio. It sounds marvelous. Paramount has included both its ‘legacy’ extras as well as new-to-Blu stuff to augment our viewing experience. The work print contains no extras. But on Disc One we get Milos Forman’s audio commentary, recorded for the DVD release from 2005, plus newly discovered deleted and extended scenes, Ragtime Revisited – a conversation with Larry Karaszewski and screenwriter, Michael Weller, and Remembering Ragtime – a vintage featurette that also belonged to Paramount’s DVD. Bottom line: Ragtime is a fascinating, if flawed, film endeavoring to capture and bottle the excitement and social hiccups of a generation all too eager to break free from the restraints of its ancient classist and racial prejudices. Its greatest achievement is Forman’s lyrical, lovely, graceful handling of period Americana – the outsider looking in, having embraced America in its fully faceted form from page to screen. Wonderful stuff here, and presented in the ‘theatrical cut’ in a quality befitting the talents gone into its creation. Very highly recommended!

FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)

4

VIDEO/AUDIO

Theatrical – 5+

Work Print – 2.5

EXTRAS

3

 

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