January Movies Part 3: The Brutalist

What a movie. I went into this film expecting some sort of vibey, self-indulgent mess, but within a few scenes I was thoroughly captivated. And yes, it's three and a half hours long, but that runtime does not feel remotely painful. This is a movie that is thoroughly epic in scope, and that epic runtime does it justice. It feels so remarkably cheesy to say this, but this is the kind of event film that reminds me of why I love watching movies in the theater. For three and a half hours, the members of the audience and I were our own little community, experiencing this glorious movie together, and it felt like a once-in-a-lifetime experience. To be fair, we lost a few members of our community over time - some people sitting next to me left way before intermission. But forget those losers; the rest of us were united in our awe as we watched this story unfold before our dazzled eyeballs.

Directed by Brady Corbet, who co-wrote the screenplay with his partner Mona Fastvold, this film tells the story of a Hungarian architect, Laszlo Toth (Adrien Brody, who seems destined for yet another Oscar), who survived the Holocaust but was forcibly separated from his wife and orphaned niece. Immigrating to America in the hopes of a brighter future, he arrives on Ellis Island in 1947 to rebuild his life. This movie has a shot of the Statue of Liberty from a perspective I've never seen her from before, which served as my first clue that this movie was going to introduce me to a lot of new perspectives for the next few hours. Laszlo subsequently takes the bus to Philadelphia where he is reunited with his cousin, Attila (Alessandro Nivola), and his American wife, Audrey (Emma Laird). They are initially generous and give Laszlo a chance to build a life for himself, but things really kick into high gear when he meets Harrison Lee Van Buren (Guy Pearce), a wealthy industrialist who takes a shine to this poor Hungarian man who seems to have a genuine flair for architecture and design. The movie then proceeds to follow one long construction project that will end up revealing the innermost workings of Lazslo's mind and the corrupt nature of his benefactors. He will also be reunited with his wife, Erzsebet (Felicity Jones), and niece, Zsofia (Raffey Cassidy), who have been through their own horrors and must now adjust to life in America, where they are still treated with suspicion as foreigners and Jews.

Firstly, kudos are due to this script. I genuinely left this film believing it was a biopic; it is a testament to how brilliantly well-realized these characters are that I didn't doubt for a second that they must be actual people. There were some shocking moments that I did not anticipate, and I thought, "oh wow, are the filmmakers going to get sued by the descendants of these people for portraying them in such a negative light?" Well, turns out this movie is entirely fictional, so that will not be a concern. A significant reason for the authenticity of this film is due to the attention to detail to the brutalist architecture. Production designer Judy Becker has done a bewilderingly excellent job of researching unrealized designs of architects who died in the Holocaust and attempting to bring some version of their designs to life. And I still cannot quite believe that the main construction project that this movie spends its time on does not actually exist. There are so many details that Laszlo obsesses over in this film, and I genuinely found myself invested in all those little architectural flourishes. I was honestly thinking about planning a trip to Doylestown, Pennsylvania to visit this building - well, it's not there. Good God.

On every technical level, this movie is a marvel. I have been watching a lot of movies recently that are grainy and dark, and that aesthetic is meant to make the film seem more authentic and edgy and awards-worthy. Well, none of that here. The cinematography by Lol Crawley is stunning, and scenes are lit up perfectly and crisply and awe-inspiringly. There's an early scene where we see Laszlo's design for a library; the way the sunlight filters into the room through gauzy curtains and burnishes the warm wood of the shelves instantly makes you understand what a visionary he is and how he has created a perfect environment for lounging with a book for hours. After being imprisoned in dark concentration camps, Laszlo is obsessed with windows and light and using the environment surrounding his buildings as much as possible. I don't think I will ever be able to view brutalist architecture in the same way again - yes, on the outside it may not seem aesthetically pleasing, but the way it uses the space and light and natural surroundings is utterly captivating. In the latter half of this movie, there is a scene set in the Italian marble quarry in Carrara and boy, I have never been more besotted with a slab of marble in all my life.

The score by Daniel Blumberg is also a thing of beauty. The sweeping orchestral arrangement from the very beginning as you see Lady Liberty fully conveys the scope and majesty of this film and lets you know you're in for an incredible ride. But then there is always something slightly discordant and weird hovering at its fringes, an instrument you don't expect to hear, a tinny noise that is so out of place in the overall grandeur of what is otherwise being portrayed. It's a perfect encapsulation of everything this movie is attempting to parse out regarding Laszlo and his grand, sweeping ambitions, but all the horrible little injustices he has to constantly deal with and the many atrocities that he has had to endure continue to prick at him even as he attempts to move on with his life. He may think that he has been saved and is on to bigger and better things, but no, there's always something a little bit wrong that insistently clamors from the periphery.

Adrien Brody and Felicity Jones deliver powerhouse performances that feel real and lived in and remarkable. Their characters are put through the wringer in this film, and they approach every hurdle with determination and grit and an amazing resilience that is a testament to all the Holocaust survivors who had to continue living their lives after experiencing the most senseless devastation. And Guy Pearce is sensational, delivering a performance that initially feels like a bit of a caricature, but has this edge to it that you don't quite figure out until you get to a pivotal scene towards the end when all of his menace suddenly becomes abundantly clear. Joe Alwyn is also great as Van Buren's horrible son, Harry, a haughty and cruel man who seems to be the movie's villain until you realize how petty and prosaic his brand of evil is in comparison to his father's. 

What a movie. Every year at the Oscars we get a big song and dance about the magic of cinema, and we all roll our eyes about how Hollywood is so full of itself. But The Brutalist truly captures that magic. There is one scene where Laszlo goes to a theater that is showing black-and-white porn. I had never seen anything like that before, and it served as a reminder that the movies aren't just about grand, sweeping epics, but also about quotidian smut that people have been filming ever since film was invented. And people have been going to theaters for years to watch stuff like that before we all just retreated to the privacy of the Internet. But The Brutalist is a reminder that once in a while, we all need to leave our houses and the Internet and go to the movies, even if it's going to take up nearly four hours of our day. Because we are going to have a truly transcendental journey watching a unique, compelling, and riveting story that we never expected to see and will never see again. The Brutalist offers up an immersive, awesome experience at the cinema, and once you leave the theater, you will never look at the world around you in quite the same way ever again.