OTwo Reviews: The Brutalist

Image Credit: (The Brutalist, 2024) by Universal Pictures

Head of Reviews Robert Flynn discusses Brady Corbet’s cinematically enthralling historical epic The Brutalist, an evocative tale of of art and freedom

Expansive vistas foregrounded by a heavenly firmament, the promise of a new generation, souls trying to find life in a world torn apart by war. Historical epics like Bertolucci’s 1900 (1976), Cimino’s Heaven’s Gate (1980) and Visconti’s The Leopard (1963) used these craft elements to create boundless masterpieces that were astonishingly poignant. It is a genre of film that is not often seen anymore, the result of studios unwilling to entertain an artist’s ambitions. 

With the release of The Brutalist (2024), writer and director Brady Corbet admonishes these pitiful studio practices. Though Corbet’s previous directorial efforts, The Childhood of a Leader (2015) and Vox Lux (2018), range anywhere from promising to utterly mindless, his recent effort presents a director’s vision that feels completely distilled. The Brutalist is an incredibly impactful and soaring portrait of the strive for complete freedom and fulfillment of artistic ambition at all cost. Corbet’s directorial feat follows László Tóth (Adrien Brody) a Jewish Hungarian immigrant who becomes consumed by his architectural opus which corrodes his artistic integrity as well as his identity as he tries to navigate the upper echelons of midcentury American high society.

Corbet’s portrait opens with László being shaken awake and rushed to the bow of a ship, the unbroken sequence is underscored by Daniel Blumberg’s swelling, brass-based score, László marches out from below the deck of the boat while the camera swirls and shakes until an upside down Lady Liberty pierces the frame; a long oxidized totem of opportunity and liberation repletes László with emotion. From New York, a taciturn László travels to Philadelphia where he stays with his cousin Atilla (Alessandro Nivola) who helps him continue his practices as an architect.

After being commissioned for his first American architectural project, László encounters the wiry business mogul Harrison Lee Van Buren (Guy Pearce). The pair form a tumultuous working relationship as Harrison becomes increasingly infatuated with László’s architectural mind. Their relationship leads to the construction of a project which piques both of their ambitions: a brutalist styled Episcopal Christian temple which houses a library and gymnasium. Harrison sees the opportunity to frame his architect’s efforts as his own while László sees the temple as a way to divulge all of his artistic ambitions.

Corbet’s direction of the navigation of artistic ambition at the cost of freedom presents a film that is composed of construction and deconstruction. Frames that are rich in detail and attention, specifically through a honed use of negative space and cinematic excess, build much of Corbet’s historical epic. These consciously constructed frames are repeatedly and unexpectedly aberrated with the camera breaking the form and drooping, swinging and uncinematically falling.

Corbet’s cinematic pattern reflects László and Harrison’s manipulative relationship. As his patron, Harrison is deeply entranced by the innovations and models that László is able to formulate, though his mercurial nature leaves László in a constant state of artistic flux. Harrison cares little for what László wishes to represent through his art and his infatuation gradually twists into a form of complete detestment of László’s existence. Having come to America to seize a new land of opportunity and freedom, László questions just how real his perceived freedom is. What suffers most greatly is László and Erzébet’s sense of identity which is taken from their art and diminished by their patrons: the imagined integrity of the grand artistic process being subsequently corroded.

With a terse conclusion, The Brutalist becomes a triumphant return to the historical epics of old. Corbet’s film shows the young director asserting his now-formed inventive artistic identity, as well as showcasing several deeply detailed and evocative performances, namely from Pearce, who gives a dedicated and explosive late career performance as Harrison. In a film that is deeply concerned with the integrity and legacy of art, The Brutalist demands to be appreciated in a cinema with its monumental utilisation of loud, emotional and effective cinematic craft that is sure to leave any viewer completely overwhelmed with emotion.