The parade of musician biopics, live-action remakes, and book adaptations flowing in and out of cinemas makes the film scene feel as stale as meal-prepped pasta on Friday afternoon. However, this January, a glittering star was poised to rekindle cinephilic faith in originality and true art. Brady Corbet’s epic masterpiece, The Brutalist, challenges belief structures about immigrants while stitching together thoughtful architectural design with a square look at human suffering, perseverance, and transcendence. The film is set against an intrepid score which blends orchestral bombardments with clashing jazz, reflecting the turbulence of the story and the post-WWII world in which the film is set.
The Brutalist follows a Hungarian architect named Lázló Tóth (played by Adrien Brody) who, after becoming displaced, begins anew on the East Coast of the United States. Tóth crosses paths with a wealthy family, the van Burens, who simultaneously become his patrons and tormentors. The film achingly illustrates the delicate balances Tóth strikes between gratitude toward those who sponsor his work, the desire to stand up for himself and his people, and efforts to find his place in a new land.
While the film may be three and a half hours long, each minute draws the viewer closer to Adrien Brody’s mesmerising performance. Felicity Jones plays opposite Brody as his wife Erzsébet. Their relationship explores the effects of tensions brought about by their circumstances as she refuses to yield to intimidation and difficulty. Raffey Cassidy delivers a dignified and emotionally complex performance despite her almost complete lack of lines.
The cities, topography, and sparse interiors through which the characters move feel otherworldly; even as Tóth carves his story and artistry into the landscape with his architecture, the ethereal nature of his shifting surroundings embodies the immigrant’s sense of displacement and alienation. The use of ‘VistaVision’ adds texture and majesty to each shot, enhancing immersion in the period piece. Furthermore, the soft 50s style of the costuming mitigates the harshness of the narrative, and the finery worn by Tóth further interrogates misguided notions regarding his immigrant status, which dismiss his education and brilliance, visually supporting his and Erzsébet’s efforts to accept only the treatment they deserve despite antisemitic and anti-immigrant attitudes.
The Brutalist is among the films that inspire and challenge. It etches itself onto this year’s cinematic landscape like Tóth’s use of brutalism to distil truth from the world around him without frills or illusions. And, like brutalist buildings’ ability to withstand war, catastrophe, and trends, it will no doubt stand the test of time.
Edie Weinstein – A&L Editor
