Between his two Oscar wins for One Flew Over the Cuckoo Nest and Amadeus, Milos Forman created this gem that has been criminally underlooked among period pieces of the 1980s.
The source novel intertwined icons of the era like Harry Houdini, Jacob Riis, Booker T Washington, and Sigmund Freud; lesser-known figures like Evelyn Keys and Stanford White who were intertwined in a scandal that captured national attention; and fictitious characters.
In the film, the focus shifts from Evelyn Keys (Elizabeth McGovern) to a radical brother of an upper-class family (Brad Dourif), to ragtime piano player Coleman Walker Jr. (Henry Rollins Jr.) whose encounter with a racist fire chief (Kenneth McMillan) pushes him over the edge to commit a terrorist attack. It's a great ensemble piece that pulls into and out of focus, with a number of interesting characters that meander into and out of the main story, and often create their own interesting tangents.
In particular, a character solely named Father (James Olson) is an interesting litmus test for our modern-day views on allyship. He disapproves of adopting Coleman's daughter (from their domestic help played by a then-unknown Debbie Allen) when he first discovers her, and he's clearly established as the yin to his enthusiastically revolutionary brother-in-law's yang, or his more compassionate wife. At the same time, he's never anything less than respectful to his black colleagues, and makes a leap of faith when it matters. Similar depth is given to a lot of the characters here, and that's what makes this film such a thought-provoking one.
Like Amadeus, the film is one of the most visually ornate films I've seen.
The source novel intertwined icons of the era like Harry Houdini, Jacob Riis, Booker T Washington, and Sigmund Freud; lesser-known figures like Evelyn Keys and Stanford White who were intertwined in a scandal that captured national attention; and fictitious characters.
In the film, the focus shifts from Evelyn Keys (Elizabeth McGovern) to a radical brother of an upper-class family (Brad Dourif), to ragtime piano player Coleman Walker Jr. (Henry Rollins Jr.) whose encounter with a racist fire chief (Kenneth McMillan) pushes him over the edge to commit a terrorist attack. It's a great ensemble piece that pulls into and out of focus, with a number of interesting characters that meander into and out of the main story, and often create their own interesting tangents.
In particular, a character solely named Father (James Olson) is an interesting litmus test for our modern-day views on allyship. He disapproves of adopting Coleman's daughter (from their domestic help played by a then-unknown Debbie Allen) when he first discovers her, and he's clearly established as the yin to his enthusiastically revolutionary brother-in-law's yang, or his more compassionate wife. At the same time, he's never anything less than respectful to his black colleagues, and makes a leap of faith when it matters. Similar depth is given to a lot of the characters here, and that's what makes this film such a thought-provoking one.
Like Amadeus, the film is one of the most visually ornate films I've seen.