‘The Brutalist’ Review: Director Brady Corbet Breaks Through in His Third Feature, an Engrossing Epic Starring Adrien Brody as a Visionary Architect

As a film enthusiast with a keen eye for character-driven narratives that delve deep into human complexity, I found “The Brutalist” to be a captivating exploration of ambition, immigration, and the intricacies of artistic expression. László’s life story unfolds like a grand symphony, each note resonating with the raw passion and turmoil that comes with pursuing one’s dreams in a foreign land.


If you see only one madly ambitious, wildly allegorical movie this year about a fabled architect whose dream is to design buildings that define the future, make that movie “The Brutalist.” I’m saying, in other words, that you should choose “The Brutalist,” the third feature directed by Brady Corbet, over Francis Ford Coppola’s “Megalopolis,” an architect saga that’s diverting for about an hour, until it descends into a folly that’s anything but grand. Why did Coppola, the great retro classicist of the New Hollywood, ever convince himself that he was an avant-garde visionary? “Megalopolis” is a movie that crashes into glittering fragments.

With “The Brutalist,” director Brady Corbet takes a different approach compared to his previous works. Films like “The Childhood of a Leader” (2015) and “Vox Lux” (2018), though showing glimmers of greatness, were often marked by extravagance. However, “The Brutalist” leans towards the style of timeless classics. Clocking in at three hours and 15 minutes, it’s meticulously paced with a graceful solemnity, brimming with events and emotions. The narrative revolves around László Tóth (Adrien Brody), a Hungarian-born Jewish architect who migrates from Budapest to America post World War II, almost as if Corbet were crafting a biography about a genuine individual.

If the main character’s name seems familiar, it might be because he shares a name with Laszlo Toth, a Hungarian-born Australian geologist who vandalized Michelangelo’s Pietà in 1972. Naming the character Corbet after this controversial figure could be seen as an amusing nod, but it also carries a deeper meaning. The movie uses this connection to imply that any powerful creator is inherently destructive in some aspects.

I didn’t find Adrien Brody’s Oscar-winning role in “The Pianist” particularly appealing; to me, it seemed he overacted throughout the movie. However, in “The Brutalist,” Brody delivers a compelling performance as László, another Holocaust survivor who arrives by boat at Ellis Island. Despite moments of quietude, his portrayal is imbued with intense emotions.

Initially, Brody’s heavy accent gives László an awkward and seemingly harmless demeanor, appearing as a desperate refugee trying to blend in and survive. However, the filmmaking style presented by Corbet is far from quaint, offering a gripping side-view shot of the Statue of Liberty as László exits the ship’s gloomy and crowded interior. The scene that follows is unexpectedly graphic, not because László engages in sexual activities with a prostitute, but due to Corbet’s explicit portrayal of their encounter. “Your face is ugly,” she says. “I know it is,” replies László. This interaction subtly reveals the hidden vitality within him, and so does another aspect. László has a broken nose and used heroin to alleviate the pain during his journey to America. He continues to use drugs throughout the movie, becoming a secret, functional addict for its duration. This hints at an inner struggle in him that is both self-absorbed and self-destructive.

He has come to Pennsylvania to find his footing by staying with his cousin, Attila (Alessandro Nivola), a snake-oil smoothie who has his own custom furniture shop. He puts László up in a spare room in the back of the store, and for a while László forms a homespun unit with Attila and his WASPy wife, Audrey (Emma Laird), who turns out to be the film’s first signifier of treachery.

Soon after, László acquires a task for a library renovation: Harry Lee (Joe Alwyn), the son of a local business magnate, plans to transform his father’s outdated reading room into a cutting-edge library as a surprise gift. With intricate details about László’s past yet to be revealed (a characteristic style in Corbet’s writing), the architectural masterpiece he designs, featuring concealed shelves sliding diagonally and a skylight, along with an avant-garde lounging chair reminiscent of Mies van der Rohe’s design, culminates into a breathtaking showcase of architectural elegance.

Upon arriving at the estate, Harry’s father, Harrison Lee Van Buren (played by Guy Pearce), is enraged upon discovering the changes made to his cherished library. László and Attila are promptly evicted from the house without receiving their full compensation. However, it is later revealed that Van Buren has a tendency to exert control (he was particularly distressed because his mother was near death). The new library, a marvel of design, even earns a feature in Look magazine. Not long after, Van Buren proposes a meeting with Lászlo, expressing a desire to compensate him and more importantly, to collaborate with him. His ambition is to construct a building together, to shape the future.

1. Pearce consistently shines as a captivating character actor; however, it’s been quite some time since he’s taken on a role like this one. Sporting thick wavy hair and a mustache, with a booming, stentorian delivery that’s both plummy and hard to resist, he’s reminiscent of Clark Gable portraying Charles Foster Kane. The dynamic between László and Van Buren is complex, encompassing aspects such as artist/patron, immigrant Jew/American aristocrat, subordinate/exploiter, and eventually, something far more sinister. “You intellectually stimulate me,” says Van Buren, focusing his intense gaze on László. Few compliments have ever been so ominous.

Despite its massive, meaty expanse, “The Brutalist” clearly asserts itself as a daring art film, according to Corbet. The opening credits are as stark and austere as they’ve ever been since “Tár”. The movie is segmented into chapters with titles like “The Enigma of Arrival”, and it even includes an intermission, which lasts for 15 minutes and is accompanied by a modernist solo piano performance. For the initial half, the narrative primarily revolves around success, as we come to understand that László was a renowned figure in Hungary – a brutalist architect who hailed from the Bauhaus school. His blocky concrete structures were groundbreaking and built to endure, and this is exactly what Van Buren wants him to construct: an auditorium-cum-gymnasium-library-chapel made of concrete and Italian marble, which will serve as a lavish monument in Doylestown, Bucks County. The project’s cost? A staggering $850,000 – a sum that was beyond extravagant in the ’50s.

In the second part of the movie, Laszlo’s wife Erzsebet (played by Felicity Jones), who uses a wheelchair due to osteoporosis caused by her experiences in a concentration camp famine, makes an appearance. Laszlo has been longing for her, but Jones portrays her with a strong dose of Old-World pride that gives the film a jarring jolt of realism. Their marriage is far from idyllic, and from now on, life for Laszlo becomes more intricate.

The construction process of this building seems influenced by both “The Fountainhead” and “There Will Be Blood.” It’s not just any structure; it’s an American endeavor filled with both beauty and danger, much like a crusade. Financial issues continue to arise, and László’s decision to forgo his salary is the first indication that he’s taking on more than he can handle. His niece, Zsofia (played by Raffey Cassidy), arrives with Erzsébet, and when Van Buren’s son Harry develops an interest in her, it’s a warning of potential problems. The dynamic between László and Van Buren evolves into a challenging partnership that ultimately leads to a visually striking trip to the marble mines of Italy, where Van Buren commits a crime that is both shocking and deeply symbolic.

“What is the essence of ‘The Brutalist’? It’s a deeply personal and American story that explores immigration, ambition, and the experiences of an artist. However, it also delves into the complexities of Jewish identity in a world often indifferent towards Jews. Some viewers might find this theme overemphasized due to the era’s strong focus on assimilation. It seems clear that Corbet created this film with a desire for profound impact. Whether it achieves this is subjective. Primarily, ‘The Brutalist’ invites you to witness a life unfold, and perhaps that is its greatest significance.”

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2024-09-01 16:19