By George & Josh Bate
Do you remember the 2004 film Thunderbirds? It’s okay if you don’t – most people probably won’t. The big-budget sci-fi family film based on the beloved English television of the same name was a box office bomb, while the reviews were overwhelmingly negative. Starring in the film though was a young actor named Brady Corbet, who brought an energy and charm to a movie many found to be lacking in both. Who would have known then that, twenty years after the release of Thunderbirds, Corbet wrote, produced, and directed one of 2024’s most engrossing and poignant films? That’s right. The young actor from a forgotten children’s movie grew up and, twenty years on, brings the world The Brutalist.
The Brutalist is an epic historical drama that explores immigration, poverty, sexuality, culture, religion, substance use, and more over the course of a whopping 3 hour 35 minute runtime. Corbet’s film stars Adrien Brody as László Tóth, a Hungarian-Jewish architect who survives the Holocaust and flees Budapest to start a new life in the United States. Forcibly separated from his wife Erzsébet (played by Felicity Jones) and niece Zsófia (played by Raffey Cassidy), who remain in Europe, László receives support from his cousin Attila (played by Alessandro Nivola) as he tries to settle down and make some money in a foreign land. László experiences trials and tribulations as an immigrant until his path intersects with a wealthy industrialist named Harrison Lee Van Buren (played by Guy Pearce), who changes the trajectory of his life forever.
The experience of watching The Brutalist is akin to beholding a sprawling, intricate biopic. Although fictional, the film grounds itself with a sense of authenticity while borrowing the narrative structure of biopics that track a particular real-life figure over the course of much of their life. But such a simple characterization reduces the emotional complexity and intelligence of an extraordinarily ambitious film that is arguably the definitive contemporary take on the American Dream.
Corbet opens his film with disorienting filmmaking that mirrors the disorientation Brody’s character László experiences as he arrives to America. The score from Daniel Blumberg is menacing, anticipatory of some great source of anxiety around the corner. The camera follows László with discomforting closeness as he navigates the crowded space of a boat arriving at Ellis Island. When the doors of the boat open, László stumbles out to a bright morning in a new land. At this point, the camera begins to tilt until an engrossing shot of the Statue of Liberty upside down dominates the screen. It is an abstract, unusual beginning for a film, one that purposefully starts on disquieting footing and suggests that similar disorientation and discomfort are to follow for the next 3+ hours. That isn’t the case, albeit not overtly, as Corbet only selectively employs more unconventional shots and framing when appropriate for a given moment. Corbert is not trying to earn the audience’s attention with overtly novel filmmaking, as the beginning of the film may suggest. Instead, he finds a way to incorporate, in moderation, creative framing and cinematography in what is ultimately a grounded historical drama.
At over 3 hours, some may (erroneously) come to the conclusion that The Brutalist is overly long and slow-paced, although this is largely not the case. A testament to its enduring ability to maintain viewers’ attention and interest, the film always moves forward, only rarely stagnating or lingering for too long on any given moment. Corbet paces his film much like a mini-series, except, as a feature film, all episodes of this mini-series are presented back-to-back. By always moving forward, The Brutalist creates a sense of insecurity, even as László settles down in the United States and obtains housing and employment. There is always the sense that something will soon go awry for László, not in an ominous horror movie-esque sense, but in a brutally realistic and almost cynical manner (much like real life, with twists and turns no one can ever really see coming).
If it is not clear already, The Brutalist is a tale of immigration. Much time passes in the film before it is made evident though that László, living in a tiny bedroom attached to his cousin’s furniture shop and getting food from a local shelter, was once an esteemed architect in his homeland of Hungary. Delaying the delivery of this information about László’s background is clearly intentional as it aligns with the experiences of many immigrants, whose prestigious positions in their home country remain unaware to many around them as they now occupy a far less distinguished occupation in a foreign country. As it progresses, The Brutalist embraces the stereotype of the American Dream as things finally fall into place for the previously unfortunate László. His hard work, determination, and skill seemingly help him overcome the odds stacked against him as he gains favor from a wealthy man capable of changing his entire life. Over the course of the film, however, it increasingly becomes clear that Corbet is not trying to advertise the idealized American Dream, but rather completely deconstruct it. He shines a spotlight on the American Dream deprived of any idealism and disturbingly real in the conclusions it reaches. By the end of this 3+ hour odyssey, the film manages to deconstruct the American Dream, only to then build it back together in unexpected fashion before the credits roll. No film in recent history has captured the immigrant experience in the United States with this degree of authenticity and disheartening accuracy.
Naturally, as a tale of immigration and the American Dream, The Brutalist also serves as poignant commentary on the divide between the wealthy and impoverished. Much of this is achieved through Guy Pearce’s character Harrison Lee Van Buren and his relationship to Brody’s László. Van Buren is overwhelmingly gracious and welcoming as his seeming kindness picks László up from poverty and grants him access to his profession as an architect again. Embedded within the character, however, is a story of the wealthy and their utilization of the poor. Van Buren possesses an intellectual fascination with László and his skill, resulting in his investment in turning the poor immigrant’s life around. This isn’t altruism, but, rather, a wealthy man using a poor man for his own ends. There is an exoticization of those who are foreign and an infantilization of the poor that Corbet subtly weaves throughout the story, further emphasizing his commitment to delivering a message about how the wealthy dehumanize and use the poor to achieve their goals. This exploitation proves to be multidimensional, such is the number of ways in which Van Buren dictates the direction of László’s life, some of which are seemingly harmless, while others are brutal and even violent.
The Brutalist features an accomplished cast, which includes Guy Pearce, Felicity Jones, Joe Alwyn, and Alessandro Nivola, but this is not an ensemble piece. Adrien Brody is firmly the lead character of a film that is decidedly about his character László Tóth (and, in turn, about the universal experiences of immigrants and those who are impoverished). Brody has an assembly of incredible performances in filmography, but, in The Brutalist, delivers what is undoubtedly a career-best turn. The Academy Award winning actor plays László as such a real character – not one that is perfect or completely bad, but, like most people, somewhere in the middle. A good man, yet a flawed man. His Eastern European accident, which could easily come across as offensive or even silly, feels so authentic, as the prosody and intonation of his speech come across as genuine and natural. Brody wears hardship on his face, although never overtly or theatrically, in a performance where the silent moments and fleeting facial expressions carry immense weight.
The film’s second half (which comes after an intermission) introduces László’s wife Erzsébet, played by Felicity Jones. Erzsébet’s introduction to the film changes the course of events as The Brutalist then tackles yet another heavy theme – marriage (such is the ambition of the film that it covers so many relevant themes and threads with care and thought, rather than nonchalantly without much effort). Felicity Jones is similarly superb and adds something unique, despite the film growing tiresome at times in the second half. Jones’ performance and the role she plays in the story give the film different paths to follow, which continue to engross (even if the second half doesn’t quite reach the enthralling heights of the first half). Jones, like Brody, has made a career of fantastic, varied performances and yet, in The Brutalist, may just produce the best work of her career.
Beyond strong performances, The Brutalist is also a film about architecture and, more broadly, culture and art. The story follows an architect who has been forced to abandon his homeland and, in turn, the site of all of his incredible works. Right away, László gets a job in his cousin’s furniture business, which begins to serve as a way for him to tap back into his artistic sensibilities. Moving on from this and the film continues to focus on architecture as a central plot element. Interestingly, however, Corbet makes a movie about architecture that keeps the audience increasingly at a distance from the architectural work he produces. One of the first act’s most important moments allows the audience a glimpse at László’s ability, but, otherwise, the film doesn’t spend much time at all directly presenting László’s work. One can’t help but think this is intentional from Corbet. László is engaged in architectural work in the United States, although he has been largely deprived of his emotional connection to his art due to the way in which he is exploited by those wealthier than him. This is yet another aspect of the film that points to just how layered The Brutalist is. The movie can be watched in a more superficial manner and understood as such. And it can also be more intricately analyzed and broken apart to explore all sorts of complex themes, emotions, and metaphors, including sexual violence, religion, and substance use (three integral components of the film we haven’t touched on in this review). At 3 hours 35 minutes, The Brutalist makes the most of a lengthy runtime in its exploration of these concepts, rarely growing tired or losing grip on its enthralling nature. At the end, despite the audience being left to sit with uncomfortable emotions and saddening conclusions, the film’s final note is one of hopefulness in the face of an acknowledgment that no life is free of pain and suffering.
VERDICT: 8.5/10
An epic historical drama with a whopping 215 minute runtime, The Brutalist is a film of incredible ambition in its willingness to tackle a multitude of important themes (including poverty, immigration, sexual violence, religion, marriage, and substance use) so richly and genuinely. Most striking are the film’s deconstruction of the American Dream, its portrayal of the brutal realities of being an immigrant, and its exploration of the wealthy’s multifaceted exploitation of the poor, all of which demonstrate how much this film has to say beyond being yet another tale of an immigrant moving to the U.S. Restrained directing from Brady Corbet, appropriately interspersed with moments of more novel and uncanny filmmaking, creates a deeply engrossing movie that unfolds like a prestige mini-series and rarely grows tiring (although more so in a second half that drags at times). All of this is carried by Adrien Brody, who delivers a career-best performance as a good, yet flawed and disturbingly real, man. Brody is accompanied by Felicity Jones and Guy Pearce, who similarly produce winning turns here in a film that has the acting prowess to match its lofty themes. To think that a film so complex in the emotions it explores and so unbelievably authentic in its portrayal of the American Dream and the immigrant experience comes from the actor who played the kid in Thunderbirds (2004) is quite remarkable. Twenty years later, Brady Corbet has created a definitive American tale, confirmed he is one of the industry’s most compelling young voices, and shown that career trajectories can be far from predictable.