VENICE, Italy—It can be easy to overreact at a Film Festival. There’s a reason they’re so appealing—being surrounded by thousands of people who truly love cinema for days on end is a special experience. It’s also a time for the most revered stars, writers, and filmmakers to debut their latest movies. It seems like every day something is being pronounced as the best of someone’s career—the greatest film, the most extraordinary performance. It’s easy to get caught up in the hype of it all.
A film I was not hyped for whatsoever was The Brutalist, a 215-minute (that’s three-and-a-half hours) epic directed by Brady Corbet, which just debuted at the Venice Film Festival. I was left cold by his first film, The Childhood of A Leader, and fell on the very negative side of his divisive Vox Lux. So when I sat down for Corbet’s latest, I can’t say I was vibrating with anticipation. But all those minutes later, I left the cinema with one thought: I’ve just seen a masterpiece.
The Brutalist is epic in scale and timeline, taking place over 30 years, but it manages to feel remarkably intimate. The film follows Jewish immigrant László Tóth (Adrien Brody) who flees post-war Hungary in 1947 for the promise of the American dream. His wife Erzsébet (Felicity Jones) is still in Europe with her niece Zsófia (Raffey Cassidy). While he waits to be reunited, he struggles in poverty for years, shoveling coal to get enough money to stay in a shelter. László is a gifted and celebrated architect in Europe, a fact that seems to mean very little in post-war America.
But when László is discovered by industrialist and philanthropist Harrison Van Buren (Guy Pearce), who’s struck by his intelligence and his portfolio of work, Harrison offers Láslzó the opportunity to design an enormous community center to unite a small Pennsylvania town. The project is the most considerable undertaking of László’s career, an undertaking that will bring him the financial security he’s desperate for and the recognition he longs for. Taking on this work will change his—and his family’s—life forever.
The Brutalist feels like a lock for the Golden Lion (the top prize at the Venice Biennale), and the Oscars are definitely in play. Perhaps what had people skeptical about the film initially was that Corbet has been a divisive director in the past, but this is his most accessible film yet.
It has the feel of cinema’s classic epics—Once Upon a Time in the West, The Godfather—and the Academy can’t resist a bit of nostalgia. The film, despite its period setting, still feels contemporary, and it flies through its hefty runtime. It’s not a film that bombards the audience with action, but instead features a steady brewing of small decisions that build to something remarkable. Length isn’t an issue either—the Academy loves an epic.
This film is monumental. It’s thrilling and emotional, quiet and observant, loud and furious. Corbet’s film is a provocative portrait of the pursuit of the American dream. It’s an investigation of how families underwent enormous challenges to escape unspeakable horror in order to try for something better. It’s a chilling reminder that no matter how hard you try to assimilate—change your voice, your name—you’ll always be seen as different. Always.
Corbet’s vision is precise. Shooting in 70mm and Vista Vision (which drew a massive cheer from the audience), The Brutalist looks astonishing. Complete with an overture and intermission, it feels like a lost Hollywood classic coming to life.
There have been a lot of complaints that streaming movies look frustratingly flat, but The Brutalist is the exact opposite, demanding the largest screen imaginable with one striking frame after the next—with one particular scene recalling visions of the sewer chase in The Third Man. Cinematographer Lol Crawley (who worked with Corbet on his previous two films) does exceptional work here.
His script (co-written by Mona Fastvold) is rich in detail and crackling dialogue that keeps conversations like why László is passionate about architecture feel riveting. Then there are the performances.
Adrien Brody, who won an Oscar back in 2002 for The Pianist, delivers the performance of his career in The Brutalist. It’s a meaty role Brody puts his entire being into, including a wholly convincing accent. László is a man of extraordinary conviction and drive, and the character living out so many years on screen allows Brody to tap into every imaginable side of László’s psyche.
Felicity Jones is tremendous in a supporting turn as Erszébet, delivering fiery conviction and a determination to succeed in a world that makes it unbearably difficult. Then there’s Guy Pearce, who is the best he’s ever been playing with a deliciously complicated character, a man capable of just about anything; he can admit when he’s wrong and be the bigger man, but he’s also capable of being a complete terror.
The only major roadblock in the way of Oscar glory for The Brutalist is the fact that, at the time of publishing, it doesn’t yet have a U.S. distributor. After the rapturous reception Corbet’s film is about to receive, I don’t think that’ll be an issue for much longer.
