Review by Ron Fassler . . .
Eleven months ago, the City Center Annual Gala Presentation of Ragtime, minimally staged by director Lear DeBessonet, received excellent reviews (mine among them). Hopes that it might return at some later date in an expanded production didn’t have its chances hurt by DeBessonet being named to succeed Andre Bishop after thirty-two-years at the job as the head of Lincoln Center Theatre. In a smart move, she has inaugurated her tenure by installing it at the Vivian Beaumont Theatre, where you can now see this brilliant musical from composer Stephen Flaherty that features heartrending lyrics by Lynn Ahrens and a masterful book from Terrence McNally. Originally, the job of crafting Ragtime into a cohesive whole fell to the late director Frank Galati, whose 1990 staging of John Steinbeck’s Grapes of Wrath was critically acclaimed for its sensitive imagery and stark storytelling. In a similar vein, he helped shape Ragtime into something just as dramatically bold and daring, though this time on a grander scale. Boasting a then-record-breaking $8 million price tag that featured massive sets, some 400 costumes, and a cast of fifty-one, some criticized it as being too unwieldy. Reduced now to thirty-eight actors, very little in the way of visual scenery, and nowhere near 400 costumes, DeBessonet has stripped the show down to its essence. Once again (only differently), Ragtime triumphs.
When the concept album of Ragtime’s score was released early in 1996, like many, I was swept up by the scope of Flaherty’s music even before I saw it onstage. With a company headed by Brian Stokes Mitchell as Coalhouse Walker Jr, it came to Los Angeles for its American premiere after Toronto, which is where I saw it, prior to its opening on Broadway. It had me at “hello”; its opening number so gracefully, elegantly, and dramatically choreographed by Graciela Daniele. I broke out in a sweat, chills went up my spine, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. It’s one of only two opening numbers to Broadway musicals that has ever elicited tears from me (the other is The Lion King’s “Circle of Life”). It felt no different twenty-eight years later at the press preview I attended; my vision blurred by tears at the sight and sound of the full company crescendo in song, emphatically stating that “The people called it ragtime.” Absolutely glorious.
Set in 1906, Doctorow’s novel, in all its sprawling splendor, takes a fictional family known only as Father and Mother (their son Edgar is given a name), who live in New Rochelle, New York along with Mother’s Grandfather and Younger Brother. Through a series of events, they are thrown together with such real-life men and women as the anarchist Emma Goldman, the magician Harry Houdini, the Girl on the Velvet Swing—Evelyn Nesbitt—as well as Henry Ford, Booker T. Washington, and J. P. Morgan. The novel’s other fictional characters given major space are Tateh, a Latvian, Jewish immigrant and his daughter, and Coalhouse Walker Jr., a charismatic ragtime piano player who headlines an all-Black traveling orchestra. It is Sarah, a young Black woman whom he impregnates, who brings the story of the wealthy New Rochelle family into hers and Coalhouse’s orbit when she buries her baby after its birth over shame, being alone, and feeling helpless. When Mother discovers the baby in her garden, it constitutes the crisis upon which all its drama flows.
Doctorow’s novel proved a tough nut to crack in its 1981 film version, directed by Milos Forman from a screenplay by playwright Michael Weller. Of course, many characters had to be jettisoned and truncated, but its biggest flaw was giving the entire last third of its 2-hour, 35-minute running time to Coalhouse and his men fighting the white establishment he feels responsible for destroying Sarah. Terrence McNally, to the story’s benefit, doesn’t lose its focus on the triangle of Mother, Father and Tateh. That said, Act Two has always been a rougher sit than Act One, and this is not the sort of musical from which you exit the theatre feeling light and bubbly.
In terms of performances, this is an A-level cast. Joshua Henry imbues both the light and the darkness of Coalhouse with his extraordinary singing voice. Ever since first seeing him in The Scottsboro Boys I’ve been a huge fan and here he is simply magnificent. As Mother, Caissie Levy is faultless, finding passion and depth in an arresting characterization. Brandon Uranowitz is born to play Tateh, whose arc from pennilessness to prosperity is an impressive symbol of the American dream. Colin Donnell handles the difficult role of Father with proper righteousness and sings it beautifully, while Ben Levi Ross finds the profound ache in Younger Brother’s dogmatic psychology (and is no slouch in the singing department). And as Grandfather, Tom Nellis still manages to get a laugh on every single one of his lines. How much do you love an actor who can do that?
I regret that as powerful a singer as Nicelle Lewis may be, her acting as Sarah remains somewhat one-note, offering little improvement from her performance a year ago. Her works feels unfocussed and makes it hard to decipher just who Sarah is and what her level of intelligence may be. It’s a tricky part and any nuance is substituted by a generality that begs the question of whether Sarah is mentally impaired. If this is what she and DeBessonet are going for, whatever their intention, it stubbornly stays ill-defined.
David Rockwell’s minimalistic scenic design at City Center has been adapted by David Korins for the Beaumont’s deep, trust stage with a similar simplicity. It works, but I still miss the Ford Model T used in the original production which drove onto the stage and was prominent in the staging for “Wheels of a Dream” which, for some reason, goes missing in this staging of that pivotal song. Linda Cho’s costumes, which go from silken white elegance to peasant rags, are evocative, and Adam Honore’s lighting is striking. Ellenore Scott’s choreography is a total pleasure, encompassing gestures large and small, and it’s an overwhelming joy to hear the late William David Brohn’s incredible orchestrations with a 28-piece orchestra impeccably led by James Moore.
There’s been a chronic complaint about Ragtime’s score for close to three decades that it contains “too many anthems.” It’s hard to argue with that because it’s true. However, my answer is, “so what?” When the quality of the music and lyrics are as strong as what Flaherty and Ahrens have accomplished then it makes it beside the point. Musical theatre doesn’t get much better than the dramatic scene and song delivered by “New Music” midway through Act One. That it is then followed by the bravura of “Wheels of a Dream” within in bare minutes is a marvel. The night I attended, this duet got a spontaneous full and complete standing ovation—in the middle of the first act—something I’ve never experienced in my more than 50 years of theatergoing.
If you can name a better score in the past 29 years, I’m open to suggestions. What’s undeniable, however, is that this production makes it possible to hear a major American musical performed to peak professionalism by a fabulous cast. Ragtime is a must-see event.
Ragtime is playing a 14-week engagement through January 4, 2026 at the Vivian Beaumont Theatre at Lincoln Center. For further information, please visit: https://www.lct.org/shows/ragtime/
Photos by Matthew Murphy.
Headline photo: The full company of Ragtime.
