The Brutalist Review: In Rare Form

After seeing the Oscar nominations this morning, I wanted to share my experience with a movie that racked up several nominations. As a caveat, I am not a “film buff”, nor a cinephile. I can count on one hand the amount of times I went to a theater within the last year, and I am often met with incredulous surprise in conversations about movies when I share that I have not seen this or that.

So why did I see a three-and-a-half hour movie (with a 15 minute intermission) a week and a half ago? Because I am a sucker for an experience. When my friend, Todd, called earlier in the week to invite me, he kept the details brief. I learned of the enormous runtime, that it was about a divisive architectural style, that we would see it at Portland’s Hollywood Theatre, and that Todd met the director (Brady Corbet) when Brady was a teenager living across the hall from Todd’s ex-wife in Los Angeles. That was enough for me, as I had yet to go to the Hollywood, a 99 year-old theater and the only one in Oregon that shows movies in 70mm format.

The showing we were to attend was completely sold out, so we arrived about an hour before the start time to catch up over slices of pizza from Sizzle Pie next door and NA beers from the concession stand. While waiting for the movie to start, we did a quick search on why it was a big deal for the Hollywood to be showing The Brutalist as it was originally shot, on 70mm film. Essentially, this format allows for bigger and wider shots, one of two stylistic choices that lend well to this film. The other being that the film stock used was one called VistaVision, chosen due to its creation and usage during the era in which The Brutalist takes place, the 1950s. As a fun fact, the last time VistaVision was used as the primary format for a feature film before this was 1961.

The theater, the sold-out show, and the showing method of 70mm all added up to an extraordinary experience seeing an extraordinary film. Despite the length, there was no filler to this movie. The performances from Adrien Brody, Felicity Jones, and Guy Pearce were all remarkable, each character displaying complexity and flawed humanity in their expressions and actions. The cinematography was remarkable, with countless shots that were wallpaper or poster-worthy, and saturated colors that popped on the big screen. I was gripped by the score, featuring an orchestral soundtrack that manages to be simultaneously uplifting and haunting, with swelling strings and piercing percussion. Lastly, the script (co-written by Corbet and his wife Mona Fastvold) accomplished the ambitious task of creating an epic American saga from the perspective of an immigrant, while also critiquing the complicated relationships between artists and their often morally (and creatively) misaligned benefactors.

For a detailed recap of the first half of the movie, read below.

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The Brutalist stars Adrien Brody as Hungarian-Jewish immigrant László Toth, who has come to America from Post-War Europe after surviving the Holocaust to start his life over. The opening scene is overlaid with a monologued letter from his wife Erzsébet (Felicity Jones) who shares her frustrations that she and their niece are unable to join him after being separated. Following the loud chaos and dark claustrophobia of László’s immigration journey, we are greeted with a beautiful shot of the Statue of Liberty as seen from László’s perspective on a boat. With Lady Liberty flipped upside down, the sense of architectural scale is breathtaking and the symbolism of the flawed American Dream sets the theme early.

After a couple brief scenes in New York that help illustrate László’s conflicted yearning for Erzsébet who he believes is dead, intro credits roll while a bus traverses the “Pennsylvania” countryside (the film was actually shot in Hungary to keep the budget low). When was the last time you watched a movie with intro credits?

After the bus ride, he is greeted by his cousin in Philadelphia, Attila (Alessandro Nivola), who shares that Erzsébet is still alive, and offers him a place to stay in a storage shed as well as a job helping out with his furniture business. Glimpses of László’s talent are initially shown when he designs a sleek chair for the business that seemingly prioritizes form over function. Attila and László are commissioned by Harry Van Buren (Joe Alwyn), a prior customer and the son of a magnate, to create a new library for his father. The intuition and vision shown by László while viewing the original library allow you to see an artist come to life, performed wonderfully with confidence and curiosity by Brody.

A beautiful library is created, emphasizing the natural light and shape of the room by hiding the first-edition books themselves behind retractable wings. The father, Harrison Lee Van Buren (Guy Pearce), arrives home early and yells at everyone to get out because his mother is with him and close to death. Attila and László leave and find out shortly afterwards that they were not paid for the job by Harry. Attila shares that his wife claimed László made a pass at her and he is kicked out.

The movie cuts to a few years later, where we see László in a shelter, along with a man he met in his first days in Philadelphia, named Gordon. Gordon comes across László hiding in the shower and it is implied that he is using an unknown drug as he assures Gordon it is for his pain. We later learn his pain medicine is heroin.

In the next scene, László is interrupted at his job while shoveling coal by Harrison Van Buren, who takes him to a diner to discuss the mistake he made by kicking the two men out during his moment of anger. The set design is minimal but effective, the colors of the diner transported me to a different time with the help of the radio playing in the background over the speakers. Harrison pays László the money he was owed for the library job, shares how much he enjoys the library, and also provides László with photographs of his prior architectural works in Europe. In another outstanding scene by Brody, László’s eyes well up and he is temporarily speechless upon seeing the photos. As an artist, this really spoke to me as I imagined the loss of not being able to witness your creations after the years of dedication spent upon them. After the conversation, Harrison takes down László’s address so he can send a driver to pick him up for an upcoming party that Harrison is hosting. After a scene in a jazz club that further demonstrates the depths of László’s (and Gordon’s) heroin addiction, we arrive at the party.

A conversation occurs at the party where Harrison brags upon László and his prior accomplishments to his guests. Upon hearing of his background, Harrison’s lawyer offers to help László’s wife and niece to immigrate to the US with relative ease. László and Harrison are then seen chatting in the foyer, and I found the screenplay online just so I could share verbatim what I believe to be the most impactful dialogue in the whole movie. After a story told by Harrison about testing his mother’s parents decorum around money (foreshadowing), he then asks László “why architecture?”

Any one who has ever been asked about their passions knows how difficult of a question this can be to answer, so I will quote László’s beautifully written response here.

“Nothing can be of its own explanation– is there a better description of a cube than that of its construction? You know, some years ago, in March, a stranger knocked at the classroom door of the university where I frequently lectured. At once, all that was familiar and important to us was gone. We were too well-known at home. I thought my reputation might help to protect us but- it was the opposite. There was no way to remain anonymous; nowhere for my family to go. There was a war on, and yet it is my understanding that many of the sites of my projects have survived and are still there in the city. When the terrible recollections of what happened in Europe have ceased to humiliate us, I expect them to serve instead as a political stimulus, sparking the upheavals that so frequently occur in the cycles of peoplehood. I already anticipate a communal rhetoric of anger and fear; a whole river of such frivolities may flow un-dammed, but my buildings were devised to endure such erosion of the Danube’s shoreline.”

Harrison reacts by inviting everyone outside, where he surprises them all by announcing a community center, The Margaret Lee Van Buren Center for Creation and Activity, to be built in honor of his mother and requests for László to be the principal architect. It seems that László has no choice if he wishes to be reunited with his wife, Erzsebet. After a few scenes of László convincing the community of his vision, the plan will come to life. A montage plays that showcases Pennsylvania’s major role in the steel industry while a letter from Erzsebet is voiced over. The music chugs forward. I’m at the edge of my seat with excitement. Boom. The final scene in the montage shows László and Erzsebet’s wedding in front of a temple and the fifteen minute intermission starts.

TLDR: Watch this movie!!! It is like reading a book, if you’re into that kind of thing ;)