The Brutalist Review: The Three-And-A-Half Hour Epic Is A Unique Marvel In 21st Century Cinema

I concur with the argument that anyone who can binge a full season of a television show has no right no fuss about a film with an extensive runtime – but I would also argue that filmmakers who orchestrate those extensive runtimes forge a contract with the audience. A movie that runs over three hours asks for a commitment and comes with an inherent promise that the work needs that time to tell its full story and deliver its full impact. Sometimes this pact is broken, and what audiences get delivered are slogs that bring to mind the adjective “overindulgent.”

Brady Corbet’s The Brutalist is thankfully not one of these cases. While it’s not wholly the breathtaking experience that the 215-minute feature very clearly wants to be, it is properly molded as a cinematic epic in the classic sense and absorbs you in its tale about immigrant life in the United States. Regardless of how you feel about the titular architectural style (note: I generally find it to be ugly and off-putting), you’re compelled by the journey of the demon-ridden protagonist who is both working to establish a life for himself in a new country and realize an immense artistic vision.

Said protagonist is László Tóth (Adrien Brody), a Hungarian immigrant and architect who travels to the United States in the late 1940s having survived the horrors of the Holocaust. He is forced to leave behind his wife Erzsébet (Felicity Jones) and mute niece Zsófia (Raffey Cassidy), but he plans to get settled in Philadelphia with support from his cousin Attila (Alessandro Nivola) and then have his family join them.

Employed in Attila’s furniture business, László is commissioned by Harry Lee Van Buren (Joe Alwyn), the son of a wealthy industrialist, to use his skills to secretly renovate his father’s library. Harrison Lee Van Buren (Guy Pearce) is initially horrified the work and refuses to pay him, but when the library ends up earning praise from high society, the man tracks László down, and he not only compensates him for the past work but asks him to create a monumental community center in the style of the celebrated buildings he designed in Europe.

The Brutalist is an impressive chronicle of the immigrant experience.

Constructed as an investigation of the immigrant experience via character study, The Brutalist is reflective of the eponymous style in that it doesn’t present an overly complicated or complex narrative, but it has its own boldness as an honest chronicle of an ambitious but deeply flawed artist. The film is compelling because you want to see László to achieve the mythical American Dream and reunite with the people he loves most in the world – but it also doesn’t shy away from his substance abuse issues (specifically his addiction to heroin) and uncompromising attitude.

Written by Brady Corbet and Mona Fastvoid, the story is deliberate but never feels slow; it doesn’t hinge on twists, revelations or shocks for story developments, and instead bets on audience investment in the characters and succeeds. Truth be told, I was shocked looking at my watch when the theater lights came on at the start of the movie’s intermission, as I was surprised how deep into the cinematic experience I was. (I’ll also add that while the intermission is appreciated for the sake of hitting the bathroom and stretching one’s legs, I’d argue that 15 minutes is too long of a break, as with five minutes left to go, I was already itching to see how the rest of the film would unfold). The runtime may be daunting from an outside perspective, but it’s not something you actually think about while watching.

Adrien Brody delivers an unforgettable performance leading The Brutalist's excellent cast.

The ensemble cast in The Brutalist as a whole is tremendous, with standouts including Guy Pearce’s savoir complex-afflicted, patronizing Harrison Lee Van Buren to Felicity Jones’ Erzsébet – who takes the spotlight in a third act confrontation that is easily one of the most powerful dramatic moments in 2024 cinema. The true anchor of the film, however, is Adrien Brody’s turn as László Tóth, as the actor makes you feel every moment of the character’s pride and failure.

Brody’s charisma brings the protagonist’s heart and ambition to the surface, apparent from the start as the character first arrives by boat into New York, but he also carries intense pain in his eyes. He projects an impressive strength and confidence when he is in his element, unleashing fire battling against anyone who makes any effort to undermine his architectural authority, but also great vulnerability as he succumbs to his addiction, expresses his love for his family, and suffers horrific humiliation. It’s a marathon showcase for the Oscar-winner’s talent, and it’s a success in all respects.

In an age when the word “epic” in the film world is reserved almost exclusively for genre blockbusters, The Brutalist is an awesome and rare achievement that earns the moniker with its tremendous scope – in both its storytelling and aesthetic creation (the cinematography is breathtaking at times, and the accomplishments in the production design are utterly staggering in recognition of the production’s limited budget). I didn’t walk away from it thinking that I had experienced one of the best movies of the year, but it’s also undeniably a unique marvel in 21^st century cinema.