When I go to a movie, I want to be entertained, or I want to be challenged. “The Brutalist” is the rare film that made me feel both.
Brady Corbet’s Golden Globe-winning “The Brutalist” portrays something we don’t often see in film today: someone reaching for greatness.
It feels like we’ve existed in a filmmaking landscape in which “The Godfather,” “Citizen Kane,” and “There Will Be Blood” have been put on a pedestal and hailed as masterpieces for a while now.
Movies emulate the thematic and technical ideas of those films all the time, but I believe “The Brutalist” is trying to earn a spot on that pedestal. Only time will tell if it can attain that status.
It is a special experience to live in a film that feels so confident, so in conversation with its influences, yet so electrifyingly new. The film tells the story of a Hungarian Jewish immigrant, played by Adrien Brody, who is hired by a Philadelphian oligarch, played by Guy Pearce, to design a community center.
That story may sound simple, but it’s the relatively straightforward plot that allows the film’s visual and thematic ideas to sing. László Tóth, the protagonist of the film, is faced with remnants of his acclaimed Brutalist architecture work in Budapest through newspaper clippings — work he will never see again after the fallout of World War II.
As Tóth tries to continue his work under a new proprietor named Harrison Van Buren, he struggles with the dueling instincts to work for survival and work for legacy. Tóth’s relationship with Van Buren grows contentious as the design and construction process draw on, calling into question the relationship between an artist and a commissioner, art as utility or aesthetic, and who truly owns a work of art.
Much of the film follows Tóth as he acquires the materials he needs to craft his magnum opus, despite Van Buren’s business associates’ insistence they go cheaper. A running theme of the film is to build with the best materials available, a philosophy also applicable to the film’s production.
Director Brady Corbet and his wife Mona Fastvold wrote the script together seven years ago. Much of the time between then and now was spent in pre-production procuring the film stock and VistaVision cameras Corbet wanted. The film was shot entirely on location across Europe, in Italian quarries, and on gorgeous, sprawling hills.
Produced for only $10 million, the film is a testament to independent filmmaking. The love and care indie filmmakers feel for any passion project shine through in every gorgeously composed frame of “The Brutalist.”
Seeing it projected on 70-millimeter film added to the handcrafted feel. Audiences can see the human labor as the picture slightly stutters, letting them know the projectionist just switched the reels, and the beautiful film grain dances across the screen.
Despite its three-and-a-half-hour runtime, the film is brilliantly structured with an Overture — which was so awe-inspiring I considered sitting through the entire film again — two chapters, an intermission, and an epilogue. The intermission was a great way to make the experience more palatable and provided an opportunity for audience members to discuss the film with friends and strangers alike.
I was hesitant about the runtime before the film, but Corbet establishes the pace with the title sequence early on. As the music crescendos and the title bursts onto the screen, audiences see a shot from a car’s point of view as it cruises down a country road. This gliding, whizzing pace is maintained throughout the film and makes the viewing experience totally engrossing.
A film as massive in scale yet so intimate in scope is rare. It’s a mature story about America, art, place, and capitalism. This review doesn’t scratch the surface of the immense cinematic exhilaration I felt by the time the film was over. It’s a lot to fit in your head, which makes it all the more impressive Brady Corbet and his team accomplished this feat of filmmaking.