The Brutalist

Movie Review: A Disappointing Experience

I had high expectations for this movie, but unfortunately, it turned out to be a disappointing experience. The pacing was painfully slow, making it difficult to stay engaged. Many scenes felt completely unnecessary, dragging the runtime without adding any real value to the story.

From an artistic perspective, the film seemed to rely heavily on overacting, which made the characters feel exaggerated and unrealistic. Instead of enhancing the emotional depth, the performances often came across as forced and distracting.

While the movie seemed to aim for a deeper, artistic message, it failed to deliver it in a coherent way. The narrative lacked clarity, and by the end, I was left wondering what the point of it all was. Overall, it felt like a missed opportunity that could have been so much more with tighter editing and more thoughtful storytelling.

Making a movie like "The Brutalist" is not easy nowadays. Epic period dramas are not very trendy and asking the audience to sit for three and a half hours, is not an easy demand. With that being said, I went to the cinema curious to see what Brady Corbet made. I have to say that the movie has a nice start and development. Even if the character of László Tóth never existed and this is in fact a pure fictional story, overall it is pretty believable, at least in the first half. We see the protagonist getting to America, slowly integrating in the society and finding his first important job: building a complex for the rich businessman Var Buren.

The characterization of the protagonist is incredible: we get to know him inside out, which is his backstory, his strengths, his weaknesses, his vices. A brilliant mind that accomplished so much in his home country, getting awarded for the buildings that he projected. The film does a nice job in contextualizing the historical period, through the tragic events that happened during the 40s and 50s in Europe. Screenwriters managed to create a compelling character that needed to endure many difficulties through his life, as he needed to re-affirm his name in the USA. The director is setting this as a biopic, therefore I was expecting to see all the main important parts of this fictional life. But unfortunately I feel that the movie lost its identity halfway through. I can pinpoint the exact moment where things went sideways: there is a scene set in Italy, where the overall mood completely changed and it seemed to watch a different film altogether. The plot never recovered from this mistake. The story is split into four different parts: the first three parts are following the life of László from the 40s until the 60s, and then there is an incredible time jump that brings us directly to the 80s, showing us all the work that the Hungarian architect did in the US. The problem is that the audience never saw what actually happened in those 20 years. The director focused too much on pointless details and it seemed that he remembered that he needed to actually wrap the film somehow. The ending feels rushed and messy.

The movie has good ideas, but it feels very unbalanced towards the end. It is truly a pity, because all the right ingredients are there: incredible cast composed by many great names, wonderful photography, compelling and overall well written story. I am also sure that some of the shots are pretty iconic. Potentially this could have been a modern masterpiece. I strongly believe that considering the nature and the length of the production, this would have worked way better as a limited series of maybe 4-5 episodes. Unfortunately, by the end a lot of things are left unanswered. My final mark is 6.5. I recognized that a lot of effort was made into this project, but potential was wasted.

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!

"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.

'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.