The Off-Broadway Theatre Review: Ragtime

By Ross

An upright piano stands silently and singularly on stage in a cool pool of light just waiting to bring the epic sounds of Ragtime to life. A few keys are played, simply, but with meaning as two young children begin to tell us a story; their story, and we are hooked. It’s a captivatingly caring beginning, that opens up that wide New York City Center stage to the wondrous sight of the large powerfully-lunged cast in choir formations singing harmoniously. The sound is huge and vibrant, resonating within our bones bringing light and love into our hearts with that delicious sound. They message forth the theme vibrantly, about searching for something to believe in before they all separate into three distinct units of structured, classed constructs, that sadly still carry so much weight and history on their backs.

Ladies with parasols cluster, giving clean references of power and privilege, before the true life and heartbeat of this magnificently sung musical, with lyrics by Lynn Ahrens (Anastasia), music by Stephen Flaherty (Once on This Island), and a book by Terrence McNally (Frankie and Johnny…), sails strongly in from Harlem and beyond, thanks to the choreography of Ellenore Scott (Broadway’s Funny Girl). The energy dances from deep within, infusing this historic piece of theatre and art, based on the novel “Ragtime” by E.L. Doctorow, with community and care. It docks itself solidly on our shore, standing tall before the NYC Center Orchestra, led most majestically by music director, James Moore (Encores! Off-Center’s Road Show).

With Houdini, played by Rodd Cryus (Signature’s My Real Mother), standing in the forefront, determined to escape the chains of being an immigrant in America, the dream of this country rises up, filled with hope and determination. It’s a strongly constructed opening, that hits squarely home, especially as we reel and rotate in our inner anxiety over our current political situation and climate, particularly with the hate that is being thrown at us about immigrants and race. I will forever be amazed by the attitudes of more Americans than we ever could have imagined who have forgotten the clear fact that most have their ancestral roots fully grounded in immigration, with their ancestors coming by some form of transportation to live on these shores. Each one of our ancestors, for the most part, is from far beyond these borders, unless of course, you can call yourself a native Indigenous person. What we are hearing right now rattles our moral sense of right and wrong as we wait with stressed anticipation about what will happen on election day, 2024. I can only hope that the people of this country find the heart and an understanding of what’s at stake, and do the right thing. If not, I don’t know what will become of the optimistic America Ragtime sings so clearly about.

But it’s not all sunshine and success like all those on that stage. These determined POC and immigrants want to believe. They desperately want to hold their head up high and believe that they have escaped some sort of trauma, poverty, or injustice in their lives, to find themselves standing where opportunity exists for each and every one of them. And not just for the chosen few, like the privileged upper class embodied here by the likes of J.P. Morgan (John Rapson) or Henry Ford (Jeff Kready). Emma Goldman, played with purposeful passion by Shaina Taub (Broadway’s Suffs), quite naturally, is there to stand up for the rights of many, but against the power of the wealthy, it feels, as it does now, that the scales of justice are off balance and difficult to right. That’s an understatement for what transpires within this approximately three-hour running time, and like most of this production, directed with a clever eye by Lear DeBessonet (Encores/Broadway’s Into the Woods), it sends intense shivers of love, power, determination, and grief through our veins and nervous system, taking us on a powerful journey through a time long past that is as relevant as ever, as we realize how resilient some can be, and how little the injustices of this land have changed beyond the superficial.

Sung at full power by a cast of the most excellent performers one could hope for, this Ragtime, is as gloriously bare-boned as would expect from New York City Center and their annual Gala Presentation, with set and projections designed by David Rockwell (RTC Broadway’s Doubt), costumes by Linda Cho (Broadway’s POTUS), lighting by Adam Honoré (Off-Broadway’s Drag: The Musical), and sound by Kai Harada (Broadway’s Once Upon a Mattress), delivering the thematic scenarios in three-part unison. Unpacked separate at first, this Ragtime is destined to transport us all to a place of connection, weaving together the frameworks in ways unexpected and surprising, especially for this theatre junkie who wasn’t lucky enough to have seen either the extravagant 1988 production or the more pared-down 2009 Broadway staging.

Resonating with such modern-day, carefully defined clarity, Ragtime dives in deep, delivering in epic formulations the tensions that shiver in our collective bones with those strongly felt orchestrations by William David Brohn (Wicked). Conquering oceans with such hopeful determination, brave souls, like Tateh, compassionately portrayed by the impeccable Brandon Uranowitz (Broadway’s Leopoldstadt), stand resolute, holding the hand of his young daughter (Tabitha Lawing) as they arrive with the solid expectations of so much more than what actually awaits them. It’s a tender touching engagement, that wraps us quickly in his warming, life-affirming prayer shawl, and doesn’t let go.

Bathed in white and societal privilege, Mother, organically portrayed by the magnificent Caissie Levy (West End/Donmar’s Next to Normal) delivers this ship forward magnificently as she says goodbye to Father, callously well-played Colin Donnell (Broadway’s The Shark Is Broken), who boards a ship that will take him far away for some time. He is leaving her to care for a family that includes their little boy, lovingly embodied by Matthew Lamb (NYTW’s Merrily We Roll Along) – who always speaks the truth with such clarity, that we can’t help but love him. There is also Mother’s Younger Brother, spiritedly portrayed by the excellent Ben Levi Ross (Kennedy Center’s Next to Normal), and the grumpy Grandfather, stoically portrayed by Tom Nelis (Broadway’s Indecent). Each has their role to play, especially when Mother obstinately cradles into the family the baby of Sarah, played with emotional clarity and care by Nichelle Lewis (Broadway’s The Wiz), who, although not speaking her truth initially, needs all the help she can get.

Piano-playing Coalhouse Walker Jr., muscularly portrayed by Joshua Henry (Broadway’s Carousel), learns early on where his Sarah is, and heads out to get her back. No matter how many Sundays it takes. That drive forward, in his brand new Ford motor car, is one of the main catalysts for driving these separated units into a unified one, giving rhapsody blues notes to the constructs of racial injustice, prejudice, class inequality, and social upheaval, layered in with the complex stance taken by activist Bookie T. Washington, played solidly by John Clay III (Broadway’s Choir Boy).

The main spokes on this Ragtime wheel find grace and magnificent power in both their vocal performances and tenderly felt interactions. Henry’s Coalhouse drives this car forward with his passion and muscular fury, finding a focus that almost obliterates his love for Sarah. His is the muscular flesh of this Ragtime. Uranowitz gives us the blood of this piece, delivering a different kind of grace and power that is just as meaningful, as we watch and feel him dig deep into his soul letting us join in with his pain and anguish. And Levy’s Mother, most naturally, gives us the heart of this epic production, pumping the emotionality throughout with her clearly defined sense of self, and her material fearlessness, even when she has to stand up to her proud arrogant husband.

The others, to different levels of success, uncover their sense of purpose within the body of this impressive musical, with Ross’s delivery of his ‘Mother’s Younger Brother’ role in the most endearing way possible, especially when he is broken by the casualness of the most beautiful woman in a swing, Evelyn Nesbit, played with a strong sense of “weeeee” by Stephanie Styles (RT Broadway’s Kiss Me, Kate). Taub’s determined Emma Goldman seems ever so secondary, striding in strong, but giving little to do. This is somewhat the case with many of the secondary characters inside Ragtime, playing symbolic gestures with little overall effect, yet somehow, thanks to the music, the broken hearts that arrive on the wheels of a dream haunt me still.

This Ragtime, my first, pulls on our emotional strings with great purpose. The show is so big and wide, filling the space with a power that is almost deafening. It almost feels that the grand stage of New York City Center might not actually be big enough or strong enough to handle the show’s passion and power. Emotions creep up on us throughout, overtaking our souls and our senses as the era of Ragtime runs out. Yet, it lives on. It reminds us, at a time that we really do need reminding, that we can never go back to before. We take in that newly formed family of the three units combined at the end of this tale, and feel its optimistic energy, leaving us with the still-relevant question, Where is the America we were supposed to get? I hope something closer to it arrives soon, and that hateful orange monster goes away forever.