Throughout film history, certain traditions once central to the industry have become more of a nostalgic memory than a standard practice. Two that often come to mind are the sprawling storytelling of films like The Godfather and the long-lost art of including an intermission. While directors like Martin Scorsese continue to master decade-spanning narratives, such ambitious storytelling has become a rarity.
Ambition, when executed effectively, brings a high that is unmatched in cinema. That mix of ambition and a deep respect for film history brings us to Brady Corbet’s The Brutalist. Premiering at the Venice Film Festival, traveling to Toronto, and now arriving at the 62nd New York Film Festival, The Brutalist has become one of the most coveted screenings in my four years covering the festival—and the enthusiasm for it is entirely justified.
In the spirit of Hollywood’s grand epics, Brady Corbet crafts a modern-day masterpiece with The Brutalist. It’s a monumental achievement in cinema that warrants overwhelming praise. From its technical brilliance to its haunting score and stunning ensemble, the film stands as an architectural marvel and one of the year’s most remarkable achievements.
Spanning over 30 years, The Brutalist follows the life of László Tóth, a Jewish refugee who arrives in America after World War II. Upon landing at Ellis Island, he reconnects with his cousin Attila, which leads to a relationship with Harrison Lee Van Buren. Van Buren not only hires Tóth for a large-scale project but also helps bring his family to America. As the years progress, László must navigate drug addiction, home life, and work, all while realizing that his relationship with Van Buren is not what he anticipated.
Writer-director Brady Corbet and co-writer Mona Fastvold craft a screenplay that challenges the ideologies of the “American Dream.” The first half of the film portrays the optimism and promise of a better life, only to reveal the harsh realities lurking beneath. Corbet and Fastvold brilliantly use the intermission to leave the audience on a high, only to set the stage for the second half, which dismantles the myth of the American Dream. Like an architect’s optimism during construction, The Brutalist captures the heartbreak of a once-promising idea succumbing to destruction. It’s devastating yet incredibly effective.
Corbet’s direction in his third outing is both confident and impressive. His vision is clear, aided by the stunning cinematography of Lol Crawley. One of the year’s most striking shots, which I’ve dubbed the “inverted Gordon Willis Godfather Part II homage,” perfectly encapsulates the film’s overall theme, making The Brutalist one of 2024’s most visually stunning films. Complementing Crawley’s work is Daniel Blumberg’s haunting score, which grips you from the prologue and remains one of the year’s most effective musical accompaniments.
The performances in The Brutalist are among the year’s finest. Academy Award winner Adrien Brody, Guy Pearce, and Felicity Jones deliver some of the best work of their careers. Brody is operating on another level, offering a complex, tender portrayal that evokes a range of emotions reminiscent of his work in The Pianist. Pearce, whose true motives slowly unravel throughout the film, is both magnetic and menacing, delivering one of the film’s most shocking moments.
Despite not appearing until the second half, Felicity Jones commands the screen in every scene, giving some of the most emotionally resonant moments in the film. Alessandro Nivola, in a small yet impactful role, is another standout, offering one of my favorite performances in The Brutalist.
The Brutalist stands as 2024’s peak work of cinematic art. It’s one of the year’s most challenging and rewarding experiences. Clocking in at over 3.5 hours, complete with an intermission, the film demands patience and attention but rewards its audience with a marvel of storytelling and filmmaking.
