The Brutalist
The Brutalist
Escaping post-war Europe, a visionary architect (Adrien Brody) arrives in America to rebuild his life. On his own in a strange new country, a wealthy industrialist recognizes his talent. But power and legacy come at a heavy cost...
Kevin Ward reviewedJuly 1, 2025
The films structure and composition are themselves Brutalist—a massive imposing presence, blocky forms, exposing its functional and structural elements. Three and a half hour runtime, overture, chapters, intermission with countdown clock, epilogue, the bombastic score along with the massive emphatic opening title card featuring the “Filmed in Vistavision” text—Director Brady Corbet wants you to see all the elements of his monolithic construction. And with good reason—it is a sight to behold.
—before I continue I want to add some context about my screening. I believe our theaters projection was not calibrated properly for the Vistavision format. Every second or so, you could see the red/green color separation outlines of the figures on screen. Mostly visible in brighter settings, but it was present throughout. It was honestly, pretty distracting at time. The film still looked rather stunning, but it’s hard for me properly comment on the look until I can see it with proper projection. Unfortunately, I’ll probably have to wait for my at home screener to see it again. If I’m not effusive about the visuals, though, that is likely why. —
The Brutalist is anchored by stellar performances from Adrien Brody, Guy Pearce, and Felicity Jones. Brody shines as László Toth, a Hungarian architect who flees the horrors of the Holocaust, only to face the crushing realities of post-war America. Pearce delivers a chilling turn as a wealthy benefactor whose influence looms large over Toth's life, while Jones embodies resilience as László's steadfast wife, Erzsébet, in her greatest performance, to date.
The film explores the collision of the American Dream with the harsh realities of the immigrant experience, weaving themes of perseverance, identity, and the insidious nature of anti-Semitism in 20th-century America. Toth's journey is marked by profound irony: having escaped the persecution that destroyed his family, he finds himself designing colossal structures for the very religion that once ostracized them (and still, perhaps, only “tolerates” them.)
There’s much more to unpack from the film, thematically. Remarkably, I did not feel the runtime at all and I’m already looking forward to seeing it again soon. I want to wrestle with the ending a bit more. I didn’t love the epilogue, it felt a bit unnecessary, except that without it the end would have felt much more abrupt. But that may have been suited it’s brutalist structure. Regardless, the performances alone are worth checking out on the big screen.
Note: There was a man in front of us watching the film by himself who got up and went to the restroom during the scenes taking place in Italy. I couldn’t help but wonder what he must’ve been thinking when the end of the movie hits.