Review - The Brutalist

Directed by: Brady Corbet
Written by: Brady Corbet, Mona Fastvold
Starring: Adrien Brody, Felicity Jones, Guy Pearce
Running Time: 215 Minutes
Rating: 4.5/5

The American Dream is a towering monolith amongst dust and rubble. Every step soaked in blood, sweat and tears. All for a chance to start again. All for that dream. All for that life.

Brady Corbet’s The Brutalist is a challenging and solemn experience of the journey for the American Dream. At its core, an immigrant story across the frigid waters of the Atlantic - from the shadows of post-war Hungary to the glistening hope in the countryside of Philadelphia, United States of America. Laszlo Toth, a brilliant and talented architect, finds his way into the West in hopes of starting again. From the horrors of the Holocaust and his family left behind in Hungary; Laszlo is at odds with himself and his life, overwhelmed with the challenges before him, he must forge a new path to happiness.

The Brutalist is a monumental achievement in modern and contemporary cinema; a sprawling and rapturous epic that draws from cinema past - Once Upon a Time in America or even The Godfather, a cinematic novella that is as much reflective as it is despondent. Projected in true 70MM, the film clocks in at over three and a half hours, the only thing that The Brutalist could ever be - is longer.

A Prometheus in the most grandiose fashion; The Brutalist is, on paper, an intimidating watch. A 215 minute journey of an architect across decades of his life amidst his challenges in his new home. A filmmaking achievement that it almost feels blasphemous to have it exist in today’s contemporary cinema. Gargantuan in scale yet intimately profound, Corbet swings for the fences with a massive undertaking that never feels like a chore. Even in its most quietest of moments, the silence is deafening. The camera sits patiently and intent on watching every second and every emotion of Corbet’s characters. Brody, especially, is remarkable, in almost every scene; his eyes, filled with a traumatic past, but yet hopeful for a new beginning - his quiet confidence as Laszlo is inspiring at most, but also painful when it hits. Admirably, Guy Pearce stands his ground as a fascinating foil to Laszlo; Harrison Van Buren, a wealthy industrialist who is drawn to Laszlo’s talent and his architecture. Vicious, violent but yet, kind and comforting, he serves as an excellent match to Brody’s reserved Laszlo.

Split into two distinct halves, with a fifteen minute intermission in between, Brutalist feels like two distinct films explicated in two different eras of filmmaking. A narratively driven chase for the American dream is the first half, documenting Laszlo’s challenges as he enters America and his relationship with the new world, the new people and the class warfare of the rich and the poor. The first half of the film feels more deliberately forward, a push towards the future and crux of narrative tension. The second comes at a more meandering style; Laszlo has accomplished much by the start of the second half and now it is an exploration of his vices, his tortured soul and the enigma of his own hubris. It feels slower, darker and more focused on the intimacy of Laszlo’s soul and mind, rather than the focus of the narrative conclusion. The only criticism of this magnificent exploration of the human soul is Corbet’s epilogue; one that feels a little disjointed and void of any emotional catharsis that the previous 200 minutes were building up to. The journey was the achievement, even if the destination wasn’t as powerful as everything before it.

The Brutalist is a cinematic achievement that is almost extinct among Corbet’s contemporaries; Poetry in every frame, Corbet has crafted a film that is generational in its masterful execution and emotional resonance and depth. Centered around (another) career-defining performance in Adrien Brody; the film commands your attention for every single minute of its runtime. I admit that I was even skeptical with the runtime and even the logline, but every single moment is integral to Laszlo Toth’s journey. It’s a ship worth taking and a journey worth reveling in.


Rafael Cordero

Rafael Cordero is a writer, educator and assistant director in the Toronto Film and Television Industry. Maybe one day he’ll be the next Paul Thomas Anderson…or Danny McBride. When he’s not stuck on set or being a Letterboxd critic, you can find him at the movies or getting attacked on the Layered Butter Podcast.

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