'The Brutalist' Is a Fascinating Look Into The Soul of Our Infrastructure
The rumors are true. The Brutalist is a towering achievement. It's three and a half hours but well worth almost every second of its length. It doesn't feel like 3.5 hours for the most part. In others, it meanders with scenes that fill up screen time. But they're very few and far between. It's not like Killers of the Flower Moon, which was one scene of an Indian being killed after another. With the exception of a couple of small scenes featuring some random graphic sexual situations, The Brutalist is a breathtakingly beautiful film that is an homage to classic Hollywood flicks with a Prologue, Intermission, and Epilogue. Each act smoothly transitions from one to another without feeling dragged out, rushed, or forced. It all interconnects in a way where you could tell Co-Writer/Director Brady Corbet knew exactly what he was doing.
A huge thank you has to be thrown out to A24. In a world full of superhero films, it's refreshing to have a company that can invest in independent epics like this. The Brutalist might be labeled as an Indi film. But the movie, other than its length, is epic. During a question-and-answer portion of a screening I attended at the Music Box Theater in Chicago, Brady Corbet said that many people have pointed out that his film pays homage to other classic flicks. Ironically, Corbet states he didn't draw from any influences; he merely came up with the ideas himself. If that's true, then that's damned impressive. Watching The Brutalist is like watching a mixture of The Godfather and Once Upon a Time in America. The Brutalist isn't about crime, yet it looks and sounds like the love child of those films.
Shot on 35mm film on two different Arriflex cameras and developed in a lab in Hungary, The Brutalist is proof that film can rock digital any day of the week. The image is sharper than anything you can get on a camera that can shoot up to all the Ks you want. It still won't produce an image the way celluloid can. It can only try to copy it. There's a reason why filmmakers like Christopher Nolan, Quentin Tarantino, and Paul Thomas Anderson's movies look so distinguishable.
The film is visually magnificent. As the story progresses, so does its color. At one point in the movie, our protagonist meets success after all of his struggles. When this happens, the film goes from a flatter hue to a vibrant one where the ground, once filled with dirt, glistens with green grass. When entering the film's third act, its colors become slightly more harsh, resembling the pain our characters are in. To accompany the gorgeous visuals is the best score of the year.
Daniel Blumberg's compositions are mesmerizing. When I watched the movie in the theater, its grandness shattered my senses. The volume is deafening, yet it's intentional, making the audience aware of how important László's work was for the United States. The story is about a Bulgarian Jew who fled his country during World War II. When László Tóth (Adrien Brody) arrives in America, Blumberg's score rattles the chairs underneath the audience, emulating The Godfather Part II, where young Vito Corleone enters Ellis Island, viewing the Statue of Liberty along with all the other immigrants on the boat with him.
László Tóth's rags-to-better rags story reflects the early to modern-day immigration experience. László does everything he can to succeed in the US without having to surrender his morality or dignity. At its core, the story is about us not acknowledging our immigrants. For all the labor they put in to build our country's infrastructure they're given almost no recognition or credit.
When László arrives in America, he's given a small place to stay in as he's assigned to reconstruct a prominent businessman's library. The businessman's son assigns the library as a surprise for his father. Well, surprise! When Daddy arrives, he's livid. The angry client turns out to be a cruel yet charismatic, unhinged individual who goes by the name of Harrison Lee Van Buren. (Guy Pearce).
After being fired, László's forced to shovel coal to earn a living. To his good fortune, Van Buren locates and invites László to dinner to discuss work on a future project. Although initially infuriated with László's work on the library, Van Buren now cherishes the design of it. His admiration for László's construction leads to a new massive undertaking that Van Buren assigns to László. Under Van Buren's employment, László is expected to build a massive church that connects to a courtyard and gymnasium. It's an unprecedented undertaking for László. But he's a fix-it guy. So he has to do it. László accepts the job, reshaping the way Americans see most of their churches today.
When László fled Budapest he had to depart from his lover, hoping to one day see her again. With his love, Erzsébet Tóth (Felicity Jones), presumably dead either by execution or gas chamber, László dishonorably honors her memory by fooling around with a prostitute within the opening moments of the film. This includes a scene that will probably make headlines when the film gets close to release. We see Adrian Brody's hot dog in the movie. It's in a wide shot and only for a second, but it's graphic enough to come close to earning an X rating. The intention of the scene isn't for shock value as it's more about equalizing who gets sexualized in a film. Too often, we see a woman's body more than a man's. When we do see a man naked, it's usually for a punchline. Here, it's fairground with the nudity.
At one point in the movie, there's a scene where László is getting stimulated by Erzsébe while she opens her heart to him, making it more than just a sex scene. It's what making love is compared to having sex, contextualized in a singular act of passion. After spending a long time in the States, Erzsébe returns. Unfortunately, she comes back with osteoporosis. Despite cheating on her when she was gone, László stays by her side the whole way through their marriage. The movie is a grand thirty-year-spanning tale that would be forgettable if directed by a style(less) rent-a-director. Brady Corbet puts a unique stamp on the film where the director's vision is crystal clear, making a single frame from the movie noticeable. It's a visual powerhouse and a master class in acting.
Nobody seems to be phoning it in. Each actor is on point. This movie might be Adrien Brody's best performance since The Pianist. He nails the Bulgarian accent just like how he nailed his Polish accent in The Pianist. Brody is reflective, mournful, furious, and subdued in an exhilarating portrayal. He really sells his character's feelings when he bursts into tears when reuniting with his wife or cousin. Or when he explodes in a fit of rage during an argument with his wife. Most of all, we're drawn to his words about architecture. Brody makes it sound like poetry.
Aside from Adrien Brody, who leads the cast, Guy Pearce does a great job as well. His character is a blowhard jackass who gets anything when he wants it. Van Buren asserts his power to make others feel small. He's highly intellectual yet petty at the same time. However, his intellect makes him a fully rounded character. It may be one of the most layered roles Pearce has ever played since Memento. Felicity Jones does a splendid job of playing the role of Erzsébet. Sadly, she's underutilized in her role, spending much of her time yelling at her husband or screaming in agonizing pain.
The Brutalist is a gorgeous undertaking that rarely comes across as stale. It's a reminder that you can make a three-hour film with an intention for the length. Not only that, but you can also make films about things as common as architecture and make them fascinating. Because, after all, it is. It's the monuments we build, the buildings that give a voice to a city, and the homes we live in.
Things really heat up in the final 30 minutes of the film, where the relationship between László and Van Buren takes a very dark, unexpected turn. When that scene arrives, it'll be interesting to see each person's reaction. Despite some of its very slight misses, The Brutalist is one of those rare films that you have to see in the theater. Then see again at home. It's what good cinema is made for. A film that challenges and educates its audience. It's almost a sure bet that The Brutalist will be a major Oscar contender this year and a very worthy one.
