Wednesday, January 22, 2025

Film Review: The Brutalist

An epic feat of dazzling filmmaking that’s a meditation on trauma, architecture, and the American dream. (Spoiler free)


The Brutalist follows the story of Laszlo Toth, a Hungarian Jewish architect who manages to flee Europe after surviving the horrors of the holocaust. He leaves behind in Europe his wife and niece, and once in America he manages to make a soft landing with his cousin who owns a furniture store in Pennsylvania.

A commission by a local rich family eventually leads to the patriarch, Harrison Van Buren, to discover exactly who Laszlo is — an extraordinarily talented and famous architect that been toiling in obscuring here in America. He hires him to construct a modern masterpiece in the form of a multi-use community center in honor of his deceased mother, trusting Laszlo to create an intense, brutalist building that will dominate a local hilltop.

The Brutalist, of course, is an A24 movie, so trauma is the primary motivator behind the characters' actions, and for Laszlo it’s trauma that is layers and layers deep. Surviving the holocaust is one. Being separate from his wife for years and years is one. Arriving in America and struggling to survive and start anew is one. Adapting to anti-semitism in a country that is supposedly the land of the free is one.

Adorno once said "There can be no poetry after Auschwitz.” Which, in the context of this film, could be interpreted as "how can we as a society ever think about the good things our species is capable after witnessing the willful and hateful destruction of millions of people?" For Laszlo, he uses brutalist architecture — which his patron finds beautiful, which in fact is beautiful despite its hard edges and blunt corners — to express his despair and sorrow. He is a creator of meaning who uses towering blocks of concrete yawning chasms of marble as other artists use ink or a piano.

There's much to be said and written about this movie, and folks that know far more about the holocaust, architecture, drug addiction, and anti-semitism can speak more eloquently about some of the issues presented in The Brutalist. But my enjoyment of the movie comes in a more Barthes-inspired "pleasure of the text" type way. I loved just being immersed in the images and scenes in it. The score is also stellar and really heightens the high highs and low lows of the film.

Memorable scenes


When light enters Van Buren’s library as they open the cabinets


Nothing can prepare you for how beautifully this scene unfolds. You think you know what beautiful shelving looks like, but you don’t. I didn't even think it was possible to create shelving that is this subliminal. But the way the scene is constructed is a marvel of light and timing. The rest of the movie doesn't work without without this scene and the genius it exudes.



The cube discussion

For much of the movie, the relationship between Laszlo and Van Buren is positive. It's Van Buren who manages to help get Laszlo back on his feet and begin working again as an architect. Van Buren seems in constant awe of Laszlo's brain and brilliance, and constantly talks about how intellectual their conversations are. There's a scene where Van Buren is trying to understand just how Laszlo's brain works, and asks "Why architecture?" To which, he responds, "Is there a better description of a cube than that of its own construction?" It's a relatively short conversation, but the way Brody embodies his character is just so damn believable is mesmerizing to watch.



The entire marble quarry sequence



As a caveat, I have a long history of digitally exploring marble quarries thanks to the video game Assassin's Creed: Odyssey. So when the characters travel to Italy to personally oversee the excavation of slabs of marble for the project, I was stoked. Corbet, the director, apparently was too. Huge images flash upon the screen of the landscape to give the scope and grandeur of it all, and later scenes take us into the depths of the quarry lit only by candlelight. My favorite part, though, is when the manager of the quarry showcases the natural beauty of the marble by pouring water down and across a huge slab. The sparkling gray slab fills the entire screen while you're in the theatre and the results are gorgeous. It's a simple act, and I wouldn't expected this brief shot to leave an impression on me, but here I am, five days later still thinking about it.

The train wreck


The beauty of a 3 hour and 40 minute movie, if you can handle it, is that it allows a film to really breathe. Scenes that would be 3 to 5 seconds can take a good solid minute to form, build, and explode, in the case of the train wreck carrying stone to the build site. This catastrophic wreck lands two local lineman in the hospital, and it causes the project to be canceled pending litigation. But before we learn all of this, we get a beautiful overhead shot of the train plowing through the Pennsylvania countryside. The camera pulls back slowly, and eventually we see sparks. Then, more sparks. Then smoke begins billowing, and soon the entire frame is swathed in billowing clouds of caustic smoke rent from the violence of a collision. This is the classic stuff of art films, and you’re into it, you’re going to love it.



The performances

There is some seriously good acting in The Brutalist.

Adrian Brody. What can I say that folks don’t already know about this incredible actor. It’s impossible to think about his portrayal of Lazslo Toth without thinking of his character Władysław Szpilman in The Pianast — both artistic geniuses who suffered at the hands of anti-semitism.


Joe Alwyn, also known as Taylor Swift's ex-boyfriend, plays Van Buren's insufferable rich son, and he does an excellent job; he made playing an ass extremely believable, so I guess that's good.

Guy Pearce is magnificent as a baron of industry. It took me a few minutes to even realize this is the same Guy Pearce from The Count of Monte Cristo and The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert (I just realized that all of my Guy Pearce references are now 25+ years old, and thus my consternation.)

The only one I didn’t buy was Felicity Jones as Erzsébet, Laszlo's wife. This, I fear, may be an entirely personal problem, as I literally couldn’t stop thinking of her as Jin Erso from Rogue One. She has Star Wars Face, which is a condition I just made up that’s akin to iPhone Face, which is when you can’t believe an actor in a historical role because they look too modern. Jones looks too Star Wars for me to take her seriously as tough-as-nails 1950’s Hungarian woman.

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The Math

Score: 8/10

POSTED BY: Haley Zapal, new NoaF contributor and lawyer-turned-copywriter living in Atlanta, Georgia. A co-host of Hugo Award-winning podcast Hugo, Girl!, she posts on Instagram as @cestlahaley. She loves nautical fiction, growing corn and giving them pun names like Timothee Chalamaize, and thinking about fried chicken.