Escaping post-war Europe, visionary architect László Tóth arrives in America to rebuild his life, his work, and his marriage to his wife Erzsébet after being forced apart during wartime by shif...
Unfortunately, director Brady Corbet‘s “The Brutalist” just didn’t work for me. It tries to be one of those sweeping, independent epics that captures a grand vision of a man’s life and the cost of his ambition, but the end result is a bit of a drag. While I can see how some people might admire the film’s throwback, retro cinematic feel, for me, it was a bit dull and overly theatrical.
The story, which follows the struggles of Hungarian immigrant László (Adrien Brody) as he works his way up in post-war America, feels like it should be more engaging than it actually is. The premise about the tension between ambition, trauma, and art could’ve been fascinating, but the pacing is slow and, at times, it just feels like we’re stuck in the same spot without much development. Corbet tackles some deep themes of ego, obsession, and legacy, but they’re weighed down by the film’s overly heavy-handed approach. The emotional and physical violence (including a disturbingly casual rape scene) is intended to emphasize the trauma László carries, but the story is so packed that it just feels a bit too much at times.
Corbet draws strong performances from most of his cast, including a career-best turn from Guy Pearce as wealthy and manipulative industrialist Harrison Lee Van Buren, and Brody carries the film as a man who is struggling to rebuild his life and his art. But then there’s Felicity Jones, who feels horribly miscast in the role of László’s wife, Erzsébet. I’m not trying to be harsh, but her performance is out of sync with the rest of the cast. She’s too stiff and not nearly as compelling or nuanced as what Brody and Pearce bring to the table. Jones almost single-handedly dragged down the film for me.
On the technical side, Corbet’s use of 70mm makes for some gorgeous visuals but doesn’t save the film from its lackluster story and uneven performances. The visual style is impressive and the film’s ambition is clear, but this admittedly bold effort from Corbet, but doesn’t come together in a way that feels satisfying.
“The Brutalist” might resonate with some who appreciate its art-house vibe or enjoy meditative, slow-burn dramas about trauma and artistic obsession. But for me, it missed the mark by coming across as boring, overly theatrical, and weighed down by a miscast performance. It is an epic in scope, but not in execution.
