El Brutalista

'The Brutalist' never lets you breathe. The director builds it with such purpose that you see the care in every frame. He's a talented craftsman, no question, but also so crushingly serious. And that chokes out any real feeling. You watch the artistry turn into artifice. And, after a while, all that weight just presses down.

The film is so obsessed with being Art that it forgets to let you in. It's so heavy with its own importance that it starts to close in on itself so much so that eventually all you see is this polished facade, reflecting its own seriousness back at you.

It doesn't stay with you. It stands there, sealed off by its own sense of importance, and you're left outside.

This ambitious post-war American epic begins with a mesmerising long-take sequence which will surely stick longer than the 3:35 hours of running time. The 70mm format fits the setting while making the movie visually stunning alongside with audacious camera works and stunning photography. Blumberg's music adds on that so the theatre would definitely be its perfect habitat. The script delivers interesting characters - albeit the secondary ones are purely cosmetic - valorised by great performances from Brody and Pearce. The issue here is in the last hour, as the writers decided to insert unexplored subplots which will prevent the movie from having a proper conclusion thus leaving a bitter feeling of incompleteness and preventing this monumental project to achieve what was intended for.

It's hard to know how to describe this movie. Perhaps the title is apt. It's meant to describe the style of architecture its main protagonist employs - harsh, massive, cold concrete monstrosities of buildings. But it also speaks to the brutality of class-divided America, and perhaps of humankind itself.

Some think it's an epic drama of immigration to America by WWII refugees, and part one attests to that and promises much. The we have part 2 where the main character, Hungarian immigrant Laszlo Toth, finds a mentor in the rich but empty-hearted and ultimately cruel businessman Harrison Van Buren and his caricature family. A major architectural project for the local town alternatively promises much then falls apart, much like Toth's relationship with .. just about everyone. The movie falls apart here as it leaps blindingly from confused and often totally unnecessary scene to scene, wasting another couple of hours.

Then we have the epilogue, 20 years later, which is bizarre. It explains little and leaves a lot of unanswered questions. When the final credits roll (at a jarring 30 degree angle), the numbness and frank shock in the cinema audience was palpable.

Adrien Brody gives a fabulous performance in the lead role, although you are never quite sure whether you are supposed to be on his side or not. Felicity Jones seems miscast to me as his refugee wife, physically weak but mentally strong, to me she just doesn't look right for the role. Then there is Guy Pearce, one of my favourite actors, who is very good in the Van Buren role but not Oscar material as has been touted - his performance is just slightly too affected for that.

I'll give it 6 stars for the grandeur of vision, even if unrealised, as well as Brody's performance and the great musical score. But it will go down in my memory as yet another if these grand artistic Hollywood visions that don't really work, and descend into confusion and outright stupidity at times. Many will praise it and score it highly, like those who view a pretentious painting as a visionary masterpiece. You will have to make up your own mind after 3 and a half hours if this movie - thank goodness for the intermission!

This has a very nice cast and a great underdog premise, but feels a bit over the top with cheap emotional manipulation that detracts from what could have been an epic cinematic achievement.

It really started feeling forced after the halfway point with more and more implausibilities that just shook me out of the story.

The mark of a weak writer is melodrama and excessive salacious story elements, but then it could just be the producers that dictated the addition of the nonsensical scenarios that just had no basis in the reality they established.

The production value is there, the cast is there, the soundtrack is there, but then they had to trot out as many tropes as possible, and by then, the weak resolution is just background noise.

"Brutalist," much like the architectural style it's named after, is imposing, cold, and ultimately, quite boring. This film, which chronicles the decades-spanning career of an ambitious architect, aims for epic grandeur but instead delivers a bloated and convoluted narrative that collapses under its own weight.

While the film boasts a striking visual style, meticulously recreating period details and crafting impressive architectural set pieces, this commitment to aesthetic flourishes comes at the expense of a compelling story. We are presented with a series of loosely connected vignettes, each more ponderous than the last, detailing the triumphs and tribulations of a man more cipher than character.

The film's central problem is its length. Clocking in far too long, "Brutalist" feels like a never-ending tour of a building you've already seen every corner of. The complicated, multi-stranded plot, only adds to the confusion, leaving the audience struggling to piece together a narrative that feels unnecessarily fragmented.

Ultimately, "Brutalist" is a classic case of style over substance. It's a film that clearly prioritizes visual spectacle over emotional resonance, leaving the viewer feeling impressed but ultimately detached. It's a beautifully constructed edifice with nothing inside, a testament to the fact that even the most impressive facade can't mask a hollow core. This film is less a moving story and more an endurance test, a stark reminder that bigger isn't always better, and that sometimes, less is truly more. Save your time and admire a well-designed building instead.