
Written by: Brady Corbet & Mona Fastvold
Starring: Adrien Brody, Felicity Jones, Guy Pearce, Joe Alwyn, Raffey Cassidy, Stacy Martin
Rating: [4.5/5]
Prosperity, beyond all else, remains the defining promise of the United States of America, where anyone could come over and leave their mark. A country so young and still malleable to this day that allows an artist to create something that defines a legacy. However, fighting bigotry as an outsider remains another promise and one the famed architect in The Brutalist must encounter, as his talent can never make up for his identity in the eyes of others. Triumphant, momentous, and epic all come up when thinking of the artistry involved in this incredible filmmaking feat.
Making a difficult voyage from Hungary to the United States, László Tóth (Adrien Brody) moves in with his cousin Atilla (Alessandro Nivola) who lives in Philadelphia. Famous for his groundbreaking architecture back in Europe, Tóth must begin anew as he awaits for the hope that his wife and niece can find their way over to him from abroad.
The very existence of The Brutalist feels like a miracle where a 215-minute film centered around an immigrant architect made for under $10 million dollars would ever see the light of day in today’s landscape. Nothing about this film screams that it would turn a profit for those involved, but then again, this feat runs fairly in line with what transpires within its very own narrative. We follow the life of a man who utilizes his art not solely for the purpose of commerce, but rather an expression of himself to a degree where the progress of his projects mirrors his inner state to an intentional degree. What he creates carries incredible importance to himself and when elements of it start to fall apart, we see that happen along with him and the different relationships he crafts throughout the story.
As much as this film centers on one man’s journey, the relational dynamics he has with others inform so much of what the story seeks to communicate. We see this from the very onset with Tóth’s relationship with his cousin, Attila, a man who moved over to the United States many years ago and has made a life for himself here. Surprise initially hits Tóth at seeing how his cousin has lost his accent, has married a gentile, and even has a business, “Miller & Sons.” As we can imagine as a Hungarian man, Atilla’s real last name is not Miller, but he represents the necessity to assimilate not only as a foreigner to this nation, but also as a Jewish man. A harsh lesson Tóth continually learns as he must decide what level of compromise he will agree to and how much it impugns with the art he seeks to create.
The other fundamental relationship, the most important, is the one with Harrison Lee Van Buren (Guy Pearce), who serves as the wealthy patron financing a project that allows Tóth to embark on this monumental project. Pearce portrays this character with a level of menace and formality that made him so frightening. The man certainly knew how to yell but also lay down some comedic line delivery, especially on each occasion where Van Buren admitted he found the conversations he has with Tóth to be “intellectually stimulating.” Overall, Van Buren represents the American fabric and someone whose views of Tóth lie solely in the utility he provides, which gets presented on such cynical display. One moment, the Van Buren can sing the man’s praise while in another, he seeks to demean him in such stark ways.
Coming in third, only because of the order in which she appears in the film, we have Tóth’s relationship with his wife, Erzsébet, portrayed by the wonderful Felicity Jones. She enters the fray and symbolizes a side of Tóth that begins to slip away the more he gets ingrained in American life and this project that further absorbs him. Intriguing in some aspects and enlightening in others, Erzsébet’s presence in the film changes everything mightily from the dynamic her husband has with her patrons but also in the way László views himself and acts. This trident of individuals informs so much of what makes László who he is as we see him through the context of this film and each of these supporting actors do a tremendous job in what they get called to portray.
With all that said, on the acting front, this film belongs to Adrien Brody. An actor who has already won an Academy Award for portraying a Holocaust survivor in The Pianist, he displays once what mastery he can have in front of the camera. Mostly applying his trade as a character actor in Wes Anderson films as of late, Brody returns to a truly juicy leading role and does not squander the opportunity to display his exceptional talent. He captivates for every second we see him on screen as Tóth in displaying the jovial highs and the terrifying lows.
Shepherding this project we have Brady Corbet, who impressed in my first exposure to him with Vox Lux for his willingness to take on such daring material, particularly in the time in which he made it. Now with the Brutalist he crafts something that comfortably sits amongst other legendary films capturing the immigrant American experience like the works of Francis Ford Coppola, Frank Capra, and Sergio Leone. In conjunction with cinematographer, Lol Crawley, he crafts some spellbinding shots utilizing the perspective of the characters from the one displayed on the very poster featuring the Statue of Liberty and a scene involving a train. He heralds this vision of his along with his wife, Mona Fastvold, with them co-writing the feature, ensuring they made great use of this mighty runtime.
Serving as the first film I have experienced that actually featured an intermission, The Brutalist splits in narrative in two parts and while the first one vastly supersedes the second one, it all culminates into something to behold. It captures the Jewish immigrant experience with a level of honesty, joy, and sadness that exhibits the perils of assimilation and individualization through the actions of a single architect. Quite the feat and one that comes filled with moments that display Brady Corbet has crafted something special here.
