07 Sep TIFF REVIEW – ‘The Brutalist’ is a staggeringly impressive exercise in filmmaking
There’s no point in beating around the bush here. Brady Corbet’s The Brutalist is a staggeringly impressive exercise in modern filmmaking and a film of relentless ambition and emotional depth that anchors its sweeping historical narrative with profound intimacy. With a running time of 3.5 hours, it’s a mighty epic in every sense of the word and a grand meditation on exile, creativity, and resilience. But it’s also a deeply personal story that examines the sacrifices artists make for their vision. As a young filmmaker, Corbet ascends to even greater heights here, crafting a new American classic that is both visually mesmerising and emotionally devastating.
Set in the aftermath of World War II, The Brutalist follows László Tóth (Adrien Brody), a Hungarian Jewish architect who escapes Europe’s war-torn landscape for the promise of a new beginning in America. Accompanied by his devoted wife, Erzsebet (Felicity Jones), László dreams of building monuments to modernity that will outlast the chaos and ruin of the past. However, their journey is fraught with challenges as László’s idealism clashes with the compromises demanded by his patrons and a society wary of his unorthodox vision.
The couple’s lives take a pivotal turn when László is commissioned by the enigmatic and influential Harrison Lee Van Buren (Guy Pearce) to design a series of buildings that promise to immortalize his architectural genius. Yet, as László becomes entangled in Lee’s ambitions, the lines between artistic integrity, moral compromise, and personal loyalty blur. The Tóths’ relationship is tested as they navigate betrayal, cultural displacement, and the haunting spectre of their war-ravaged past, culminating in a crescendo of artistic triumph and personal tragedy.
Corbet’s signature precision is evident in every frame of The Brutalist. The film’s glorious visuals, courtesy of cinematographer Lol Crawley, are nothing short of breathtaking. The stark modernist architecture, juxtaposed against the raw landscapes of postwar Europe and the burgeoning urban sprawl of mid-century America, serves as both a backdrop and a character in its own right. Each scene is meticulously composed, capturing the austere beauty and emotional weight of László’s designs while reflecting the inner turmoil of the characters.
The film’s production design by Judy Becker is equally exemplary, immersing the audience in a world that feels both historical and timeless. From the claustrophobic remnants of war-torn Europe to the sprawling modernist structures that define László’s vision, every detail is painstakingly realised. The use of lighting—alternating between harsh, clinical whites and warm, nostalgic hues—creates a visual language that mirrors the dualities at the heart of the story: ambition versus compromise, progress versus loss. This is a film that doesn’t just tell you about the era; it makes you feel it in your bones.
At the centre of this grand tapestry is Brody, delivering another Oscar-worthy performance that is as restrained as it is powerful. As Tóth, Brody exudes a quiet intensity, capturing the architect’s unyielding determination and deep vulnerability. His portrayal is a masterclass in nuance, where a lingering gaze or a clenched jaw speaks volumes. Brody imbues László with a sense of dignity that makes his compromises and failures all the more heartbreaking. It’s a performance that feels lived-in, as though Brody has absorbed the weight of his character’s history and ambition.
Jones provides the perfect counterpoint to Brody’s stoicism as László’s unrelentingly faithful but undeniably long-suffering wife. Her portrayal of a woman torn between loyalty to her husband and her own sense of self is deeply affecting. Jones brings warmth and resilience to the role, making Erzsebet more than just a supportive spouse; she is a fully realised character whose sacrifices and struggles are as compelling as László’s. The chemistry between Jones and Brody is palpable, grounding the film’s epic scope in a relationship that feels achingly real.
Pearce delivers possibly the finest performance of his career as the enigmatic Van Buren, delivers a turn that is both magnetic and unsettling. He brings a quiet menace to the role, portraying the wealthy industrialist as a man whose charm masks a ruthless pragmatism. He is the embodiment of the moral and ethical compromises that László must navigate, and his scenes crackle with tension, particularly one scene late in the piece that will blow your damn socks off.
Composed by Daniel Blumberg, the film’s score is another highlight. It’s a haunting, almost operatic accompaniment that underscores the film’s emotional peaks and valleys. Blumberg’s compositions are as bold and intricate as László’s architectural designs, weaving together themes of hope, despair, and transcendence. The music doesn’t just complement the visuals; it elevates them, creating a sensory experience that lingers long after the credits roll.
While The Brutalist is undeniably a triumph, its deliberately slow pacing will prove difficult for some to endure. With a tempo that verges on ponderous, Corbet is in no hurry to get to his intended destination, even offering a much-needed 15-minute intermission to break up the film’s two parts. The film’s intellectual rigour and aesthetic perfection can create a sense of distance, making it easier to admire than to fully connect with. Yet, for those willing to engage with its complexities, Corbet offers rich rewards.
What makes Corbet’s magnum opus resonate so deeply is its exploration of themes that feel both timeless and urgently relevant. The film delves into the immigrant experience with sensitivity and insight, capturing the hope and heartbreak of building a life in an unfamiliar land. It’s a story about the power of art to endure and the sacrifices required to create it, a meditation on the human desire to leave a mark on the world.
Corbet’s meticulously crafted vision is uncompromising, and his ability to marry the personal with the political, the intimate with the epic, is nothing short of remarkable. The Brutalist is a film that challenges and remunerates in equal measure, a work of art that demands your full attention and returns it with a cinematic experience unlike any other. It’s a monumental achievement that cements Brady Corbet’s status as one of the most daring filmmakers of his generation. And one that could see him all the way to the stage at the Oscars.
It’s a film that dares to dream big, tackling weighty themes with intelligence and grace. While its ambition occasionally overreaches, the film’s visual spectacle, powerful performances, and emotional depth make it an unforgettable experience. This is not a film that seeks to entertain in a conventional sense; rather, it aims to provoke, to inspire, and to dance in the mind long after you’ve left the cinema. For those willing to embrace such a special film, The Brutalist offers a cinematic journey that is as rewarding as it is ambitious. It’s a masterpiece that will leave you in awe, pondering its themes and marvelling at its artistry. In a season filled with sensational cinema, this one stands tall as a towering achievement.
Distributor: Universal Pictures
Cast: Adrien Brody, Felicity Jones, Guy Pearce, Joe Alwyn, Raffey Cassidy, Stacy Martin, Emma Laird, Isaach de Bankolé, Alessandro Nivola
Director: Brady Corbet
Producers: Trevor Matthews, Nick Gordon, Brian Young, Andrew Morrison, Andrew Lauren, D.J. Gugenheim, Brady Corbet
Screenplay: Brady Corbet, Mona Fastvold
Cinematography: Lol Crawley
Production Design: Judy Becker
Costume Design: Kate Forbes
Editor: Dávid Jancsó
Music: Daniel Blumberg
Running Time: 215 minutes
Release Date: 23rd January 2025 (Australia)