The Brutalist: Adrien Brody Shines In This Rich, Intimate Epic

If there’s one thing you should know before booking tickets to Brady Corbet’s The Brutalist, it’s that the film is quite likely to surprise you. Much has been made of its place in the lineage of cinematic epics by the likes of Scorsese or Coppola, its lengthy runtime and its old-school style of shooting on VistaVision. Because of this buzz around the film, you may expect it to be slow-paced or a bit stuffy.

In actuality, The Brutalist is quite a considered portrait of a man and artist that smartly uses its sense of scale as an extension of its themes and central character. The film practically overflows with (perhaps too many) big ideas that make it a genuinely rich cinematic work that’s as boldly realised as it is breathtaking. 

Adrien Brody stars as László Tóth, a brutalist architect and Holocaust survivor who comes to America in hopes of finding a new version of life. While he’s trying to bring his wife Erzsébet and niece Zsófia to America, he is given a new chance by the wealthy industrialist Harrison Lee Van Buren to create a building that serves as a tribute to Van Buren’s mother. Thus, a highly fraught journey to get the building made begins.

The many themes of The Brutalist

There are a lot of things that The Brutalist is about, but what spoke to me most strongly was its musings on the rotting centre of the American Dream; an idea the film strongly telegraphs by depicting an inverted Statue of Liberty in its stunning opening sequence.  

László struggles intensely with both attempting to stick out and assimilate as immigrants are expected to while trying to keep his own voice as a brilliant architect. The patronage of Van Buren often feels extremely condescending to László, and it’s clear that the man, despite his employing him, will always view László as an outsider, and thereby excluding him from attaining that dream he came to America for.

As a result, László struggles with fully expressing his artistic vision – another key theme of The Brutalist. In his attempts to build Van Buren’s structure, which itself must be able to accommodate four different needs, László’s vision is consistently undercut and compromised without his knowledge. In a style such as brutalism, the expression of his artistry cannot be by committee; the form is the function.

That’s not even mentioning László’s personal struggles, including addiction and a rocky post-war relationship with his wheelchair-ridden love Erzsébet. As I mentioned before, The Brutalist is chokers with ideas! It often feels like it may burst, yet what keeps the film grounded is that it always remains a complicated, intimate and surprisingly funny portrait of László.

Adrien Brody is the foundation of The Brutalist

A huge part of that is owed to Adrien Brody’s remarkable performance as László, an utterly transformative turn that appropriately serves as the foundation for the entire film. Corbet and Mona Fastvold’s script already makes the architect a supremely realised character, but Brody steps into the role in such a detailed, seamless manner that it’s a constant source of aspiration throughout the film. Despite his being fictional, László often feels like the subject of a biopic thanks to Brody.

The rest of The Brutalist‘s cast is also excellent, with too many good performances to individually shout out. Australia’s Guy Pearce plays Van Buren and brings a similar level of brilliance to Brody, portraying this deeply troubled man who has all the means to be a great artist, but none of the talent. Felicity Jones as László’s wife Erzsébet is also fairly impressive, but does feel a little underutilised on the script level; it does feel more like an actor putting on an accent compared to Brody’s all-encompassing performance, despite its quality. 

I’d be remiss if I didn’t touch on the filmmaking aspects of The Brutalist at all in this review; what truly makes the film feel epic is the visual style embraced by director Corbet and cinematographer Lol Crawley, which portrays the American landscape at a scale that makes it feel grand, but empty. This fitting aesthetic choice gives way to some of the most beautiful shots of the year – especially when used in conjunction with Daniel Blumberg’s brilliant score. 

The Brutalist is certainly a huge film, and that status may intimidate some. Yet, despite its 215-minute runtime (with an intermission), expansive ideas, brilliant performances and epic visual scale, it’s likely to be the small details that’ll win you over and leave you dissecting and digesting it long after the credits roll. Perhaps The Brutalist and its many ideas don’t fully cohere into a definitive picture or statement; but the film’s complicated nature is precisely what makes it such a success.

★★★★

The Brutalist arrives in Australian cinemas on January 23rd.