The Brutalist

The Brutalist was a lot more engaging than I expected. The pacing was well-balanced, the performances were top-notch, and the story was compellingly represented. I really enjoyed the movie.

'The Brutalist' is simply outstanding. The biggest compliment I can pay it is that the run time of 215 minutes (!) comes and goes in a flash, the interval at ~1h 40m hit me like a brick! It's a perfect example of not overthinking run times, as long as what's onscreen is good it'll fly by.

I'm not going to be able to add anything fresh to it what has already been lauded about this film, all I can say is that every inch of praise is unequivocally warranted. In regards to the Oscars, I agree that 'Anora' smashed it out of the park greater but it's a close run thing. Two spectacular movies!

Adrien Brody's performance is indeed sensational, he is an actor I've seen in bits down the years and have always been impressed so I loved be able to see him act front and centre in such a grand, tremendously made picture. He nails every part of László Tóth. I couldn't imagine any other actor in the role.

Guy Pearce is also a brilliant performer here, obviously 'Momento' remains his best work (that I've seen, anyway) but this is the greatest I've seen from Pearce away from that Christopher Nolan flick. He is superb! Joe Alwyn and Felicity Jones merit praise too. Nice to see Jonathan Hyde, as well.

I don't think there is anything about this film that you could truly say is bad. The cinematography is particularly awesome, so is the score, the editing and practically every other detail. It's a quality piece of filmmaking. The first half is stronger than the second, but it's negligible.

My first encounter with Brady Corbet’s cinema couldn’t have been more challenging. “The Brutalist” makes it clear right away—he doesn’t make easy films. Grand, dense, and packed with meaning, the movie unfolds like an epic about immigration, art, and power, but never in a spoon-fed way. It doesn’t hand you pre-packaged messages, it doesn’t underestimate the audience, and it’s a film that demands time to sink in. In a landscape dominated by simplified narratives and conventional structures, the very existence of “The Brutalist” feels like an act of resistance. Shot in VistaVision and released in 70mm, complete with an intermission (a 15-minute break halfway through), and an aesthetic that echoes classic American epics, Corbet doesn’t hide the ambition behind the project. But the big question is: does this grandeur resonate with the story being told? And, more importantly, does the film have something new to say, or is it just recycling old ideas in a fresh format?

Adrien Brody, in one of the best performances of his career, plays László Tóth, a Hungarian Jewish architect who arrives in the U.S. full of dreams and talent, only to find himself crushed by a system that doesn’t value art for art’s sake—only for what it can extract from it. His arrival scene is symbolic: the Statue of Liberty appears distorted in the frame, as if the American Dream itself is off-kilter. That single image sums up everything the film explores—the idea of freedom as a trap, a promise that only exists on the surface. Corbet and co-writer Mona Fastvold structure the narrative around this contradiction, following László’s journey as he tries to establish himself, build, create—all while under the shadow of forces that manipulate him.

The film’s first half sets up this conflict with precision. László starts off working in a furniture shop run by his cousin Attila (Alessandro Nivola), where he quickly realizes that even the illusion of a family business is just that—an illusion. It’s a small detail, but one that resonates throughout the story. The script subtly critiques capitalism as a system that simulates authenticity but thrives on exploitation. But the real turning point comes with the arrival of Harrison Lee Van Buren, played by a magnetic Guy Pearce, who dangles the promise of a new life in front of László and his wife Erzsébet (Felicity Jones). This is where the film reveals its true nature: a story about domination, about how power always finds ways to subjugate art and artists. Harrison, with his poisonous charm and calculated gestures, isn’t just some eccentric millionaire—he is the system, a predator who sees László’s talent as raw material to be shaped for his own benefit.

Their relationship is the backbone of the film, and Corbet builds this power struggle so gradually that it’s almost imperceptible at first. Harrison manipulates through small gestures—offering help here, a favor there—until, before László realizes it, he’s completely trapped. Harrison’s control isn’t just financial, it’s emotional and psychological. He starts as a patron, then a friend, and when the time is right, he shows his true colors. There’s a particularly unsettling scene where he literally throws money at László and then demands he give it back—a perfect encapsulation of their dynamic. Power isn’t just about having resources; it’s about deciding when and how to distribute them.

On a technical level, “The Brutalist” is breathtaking. Lol Crawley’s cinematography is mesmerizing, creating compositions that balance grandeur with a sense of isolation—the characters often appear small, swallowed by the structures around them, trapped inside their own creations. The score adds to the oppressive atmosphere, with sounds that feel like echoes of memories and nightmares. The sound design, in particular, is one of the film’s greatest triumphs, amplifying the presence of machines, construction sites, the constant noise of a world that never slows down to reflect—only to consume and discard.

If there’s something that might divide audiences, it’s the film’s deliberately distant tone. “The Brutalist” doesn’t care about making its characters likable or offering conventional emotional payoffs. It demands from the viewer the same level of dedication that its protagonist pours into his work. The long runtime (215 minutes + a 15-minute break) and meticulous pacing might test some people’s patience, but they’re part of the experience—Corbet wants us to feel the weight of the choices, the exhaustion of artistic commitment in a world that doesn’t want art, only products.

Ultimately, “The Brutalist” isn’t a film that tries to please—it’s a film that aims to last. It works both as a portrait of an artist struggling against the system and as a meta-commentary on filmmaking itself—on the difficulty of staying true to artistic vision in an industry increasingly dictated by market demands. Unlike László, who gets swallowed by a structure that tries to mold him, Corbet resists, delivering a film that challenges, provokes, and, above all, refuses to be tamed. It’s a film that, like the best architecture, is built to endure.

The Brutalist was a lot more engaging than I expected. The pacing was well-balanced, the performances were top-notch, and the story was compellingly represented. I really enjoyed the movie.

- Shocking throughout
- Definitely not something you rewatch much, but the themes and story were so gripping
- Some great performances in there
- Watched it in 70mm, most certainly the best way to experience it!

The Brutalist is a fantastic movie that any film lover should see. However, it's also one of those films that, no matter how good, can be difficult to recommend due to its enormous runtime (3 hours and 36 minutes) and depressing nature.

And yes, it is an exceptionally long film, and I initially approached it with some concern regarding my expectations. But to my surprise and delight, it never dragged for me. It kept me engaged throughout, and I feel the runtime serves a purpose in conveying the long passage of time experienced by the characters.

The cinematography, directing, and score are superb. Everyone's performances were outstanding, but the standout for me is Guy Pearce, who is incredible. His character is exceptionally slimy and evil, and Pearce's performance and character lingered with me long after the film ended.

It's a captivating and challenging film about the hardships foreigners face adapting to America and pursuing the American dream. I loved it.

**Immigrate to America and live the dream.** That's a movie. Lázló's story was grandiose and tragic. From the chaotic immigration to the calm silhouettes, cinema mastery. The score was haunting yet beautiful. Brodey, Pierce and Jones were incredible, truly gut renching. _Must watch._

Ok before I say anything: you have not known frustration until you have sat in a cinema long past the point of trailers in a dark silent void for TWENTY MINUTES waiting for the film to start. People start shifting in their seats checking their phones looking around like are we being pranked? Genuinely long enough for a social contract to start forming between strangers in the audience. Then when they finally start playing it the aspect ratio is completely messed up, subtitles fully missing off the bottom of the screen, meaning the first 10-15 minutes were just people speaking in languages I do not know while I nodded along like yes, interesting, profound. I am TRYING not to let that affect my feelings about this.

Anyway, it’s supreme and gorgeous, right up until it ran out of ideas, but because of that immaculate first half I’m having it anyway. Adrien Brody has to get best actor. If there is an award for most awkwardly mis-cast actor then Felicity Jones is a lock. Halfway through, or a quarter of the way through, or two thirds of the way through, it was hard to tell, I was like: ‘it is amazing that they have made a story about a guy not really building a church into this great epic, that keeps propelling forward, and never feels dull or mis-paced even with long stretchy scenes of indulgence’, but that last hour (or whenever: whenever it started falling apart) kind of proved me wrong on that. I needed it to finish its dinner. I’m all for ‘work it out yourself’ — off the back of this I am happy to announce Brady Cornet as our generation’s first true grouchy epic director — but that only works if the person writing the story has also worked it out themselves. I shouldn’t have to read the IMDb trivia page to find out that Guy Pearce drowned himself, maybe. You showed me every bastard other thing that ever happened.

But I think this is a film I will rewatch on languid Sundays after mild hangovers, and love it more each time so I am going to make a list of, from my first watch, the film’s best shots. In order:

— The double-exposed blinds-and-shutters shot where Adrien Brody wanted to spend the day doing more heroin
— That beautiful backwards-walking shot on top of the crane in Philadelphia
— The misty stagger through the marble
— Honestly just the opening scene of the bus going through fields to Philadelphia while the credits roll
— The insanely pointless scene where a guy walks up a flight of stairs to find Adrien Brody drafting while smoking a pipe
— The set-piece where Joe Alwyn (perfectly-cast as pug-face-evil-rich, tie always aflap) drags Felicity Jones out of the dining room (the skid of her shoe on the floor!) then goes upstairs to find the ending of the film and does not find it because there isn’t one
— When Adrien Brody slightly moves the chair then lights a cigarette (GOD this film made smoking look cool!) then slowly puts a book on it
— That first woozy opening sprawl through the ship that ends with a huge soundtrack foghorn and an upside-down shot of the Statty Libs, that made me want to run through a wall
— Fuck me, the train crash

Notes and questions: his cousin definitely wanted to fuck him, right? If someone smarter than me can explain the scene where Felicity Jones fake laughs on a cushion for half an hour I would appreciate it; sorry but how is it that you can sell one block of marble then summon an entire party’s worth of people to a cave to dance about it? I mean I know it’s Italy but come on

I’ll watch everything Corbet ever makes forever from now on, just so you know

Though The Brutalist is a doleful picture, it produces a provocative film when put in motion. There are so many things this film says, it almost feels like it isn't saying anything until it is over. There are some pretty clear themes which you will know if you've watched it, but there are plenty of miniature themes as well. I watched this right after the painfully blantant and obvious Wolf Man (2025), and the subtlety was very refreshing.

It’s surprising that The Brutalist isn’t based on a real person. Everything about it—the tone, the narrative arc, the emotional weight—feels like a historical biopic. But it’s not, and maybe that’s what makes it even more powerful. Because despite its ambition and scale, this is an intensely human film. I walked away deeply moved by the story of a marriage that always seems on the verge of getting better… but doesn’t.

Adrien Brody is outstanding. He crafts a restrained, layered character without relying on big speeches or overacting. Brady Corbet’s direction is grand and imposing, yet never loses sight of the small details—a glance, a gesture, a well-timed silence. The story unfolds like a tragic symphony, slowly pulling you into a world where visual beauty and emotional devastation go hand in hand.

And the music… From the very first sound on the ship to the closing moments, it’s phenomenal. It doesn’t just accompany the drama—it heightens it, transforms it. One of those scores that stays with you long after the film ends.

This is not an easy film, nor a short one, nor light in any way. But it’s the kind of experience that leaves a mark. And sometimes, that’s exactly what we’re looking for.