"No matter what the others try and sell you, it is the destination, not the journey."
Have you ever wondered what it's like to watch a four-hour period drama (intermission and Nicole Kidman AMC advertisement included) that details the aftermath of a Holocaust survivor relocating to the United States for a better life? Sounds really daunting, am I right? Maybe even a tad boring or the Taylor Swift lyrics "I think I've seen this film before, and I didn't like the ending" sort of vibes?
I promise you, "The Brutalist," despite its ridiculously long runtime and downtrodden feelings, is one of the best movies you'll see this year.
Of course, I wouldn't have been able to say that before going into such a movie. "The Brutalist" director Brady Corbet is not my favorite. His previous film, "Vox Lux," starring Natalie Portman and Jude Law, might be one of the worst movies I've seen in the past decade. How this man conjured up "The Brutalist" on a $10 million budget starring a cast tailor-made for such an epic, I'll never know.
Told in three parts from the point of view of Adrien Brody's architect, László Tóth, the movie is a massive undertaking that reflects László's unbridled trajectory as he escapes the horrors of the Holocaust to start a new beginning in an increasingly antisemitic America. Aided by his Philadelphia-based furniture store owner cousin Attila (Alessandro Nivola), the Hungarian survivor enters mid-1940s American life thousands of miles apart from his wife Erzsébet (Felicity Jones). The war separated the two, and until László can permanently move his bride from Europe to America, he must live and work with his cousin to develop a relationship with his new community.
As fate would have it, László expands his cousin's client roster when he meets Harry Lee Van Buren (Joe Alwyn), the son of a wealthy industrialist (Guy Pearce). While his father, Harrison, is away, Harry commissions László to renovate part of Harrison's home in a failed attempt to win over his influential dad. When Harrison arrives home, he's enraged with the changes and fires László and Attila on the spot.
Angry and misguided, Attila kicks László out of his home, and the immigrant is forced to live on the streets and pick up the pieces of his broken life. But fate is tricky sometimes, as Harrison and László meet again in 1950, this time with a huge proposition. László was quite famous for his architecture in Europe, something Harrison researches and is impressed with. A new business deal is formed: László is to live with Harrison and design a behemoth of a community center on his land fit with a gym, theater, library, and anything else Harrison dreams up.
A heroin user by night and an architect by day, László is committed to the work and tries to clean up his act before he is reunited with Erzsébet once again.
Intermission time!
Yes, all those sequences make up part one of the film, and we are just getting started! It isn't until after the intermission that we are greeted with Felicity Jones's Erzsébet, now wheelchair-bound and angry at the state of the world. She is accompanied to the New World by her niece Zsófia (Raffey Cassidy), a quiet teenager ripe for insults by Harrison's pompous family. It isn't before long that conflicts come about with the new residents of Harrison's home, and the film devolves into a power struggle between its new and old characters.
"The Brutalist" spans decades of László's life and the people that come in and out of it. The film's backbone comes from Felicity Jones, who gives an expressive performance as the long-suffering wife with a mighty head on her shoulders. Guy Pearce's Harrison balances menace and sympathy in ways unseen on film for a long time, complimenting Brody's quiet demeanor; the latter takes a Holocaust survivor and creates more than a cliched experiment for the American experience.
Brady Corbet has accomplished something special with "The Brutalist." It's a triumph of a saga that becomes a pure showcase for cinematographer Lol Crawley's unmatched eye, Daniel Blumberg's haunting score, and a production design you must see to believe. The community center sequence alone is marvelous, showing the audience a step-by-step process of László's mental state and abilities as if he's a painter looking at a blank canvas.
The panic and dread of life post-war is on full display in "The Brutalist," though it isn't a difficult tale to follow. A movie with stunning performances accompanied by a juxtaposed message of hope, darkness, and resilience seen through fictitious characters shouldn't stand out in today's cinematic climate…though somehow Corbet and company achieve just that. Just when you think you've gotten to know all the characters by the film's climax, Corbet throws a wrench into the premise that changes László's life forever.
It's a far cry from the hectic "Vox Lux," a welcome sign that Corbet has worked hard at his craft.