‘The Brutalist’ is a masterful American epic

Writer/director Brady Corbet delivers a monumental deconstruction of the American Dream with The Brutalist.

The first breathtaking moment of The Brutalist is a frenetic sequence on a boat. Refugees rush across the deck as they first encounter the symbol of the United States, the Statue of Liberty. Amid the chaos, the audience sees it upside down, introducing one of the film’s central themes: deconstructing the American Dream. However, The Brutalist is more than a typical film focusing on the complexities and contradictions of life in the United States. Brady Corbet delivers a triumph of filmmaking. Anchored by remarkable performances, a soaring soundtrack, and gorgeous cinematography, it creates an unforgettable viewing experience.

The film centers on László Tóth (Adrien Brody), a Hungarian Jewish architect. During World War II, he immigrated to the United States to build a secure home for his wife, Erzsébet (Felicity Jones), and his niece, Zsófia (Raffey Cassidy). While working with his cousin on a renovation project, László meets Harrison Lee Van Buren (Guy Pearce), a wealthy entrepreneur. Despite tense initial encounters, Van Buren soon commissions László to design a grand tribute to his late mother called the Van Buren Institute. This collaboration launches a complex patron-artist relationship that examines the American Dream. The film shines a light on the creative process behind monumental architecture and the power dynamics of control.

One of the initial challenges The Brutalist faces is how to manage its 220-minute runtime. Director and co-writer Brady Corbet (with prior co-writer Mona Fastvold) attempts to create a massive film that, much like the Brutalist buildings it depicts, meticulously handles its vast scope through a deliberate structure. The story is divided into four parts. There’s an overture, two central chapters, and an epilogue. The first chapter, “The Enigma of Arrival,” follows László’s early days in the United States and his evolving connection with Van Buren. The second chapter, “The Hard Core of Beauty,” focuses on László’s reunion with his family and exposes the abusive elements of his partnership with Van Buren.

Adrien Brody delivers a towering performance.

The film’s runtime is punctuated by a series of montages that merge newsreels with monologues. Some feel gimmicky or odd, such as a segment focused on heroin and substance abuse in the United States. Others become striking highlights. Toward the end of the first part, Erzsébet narrates the details of her immigration against the backdrop of a meditation on Pennsylvania’s steel industry and its role in post-war America. Accompanied by an expansive score from Daniel Blumberg, this sequence feels truly epic.

Anchoring the film is Brody’s remarkable performance, which brings László to life with extraordinary depth. Jones also excels as Erzsébet, especially in her confrontation with Van Buren in the final act. The cinematography by Lol Crawley (Vox Lux, The OA) frames these performances with powerful imagery that juxtaposes László’s massive concrete creations against the neoclassical opulence of the Van Buren world. This visual contrast is especially evident in a sequence set in Italy, where each shot of the Carrara marble mine resembles a finely crafted painting. The use of VistaVision technology adds a nostalgic quality reminiscent of films such as Aftersun. Corbet’s bold directorial vision unifies these elements so cohesively that they sing in perfect harmony.

The element of control in the American Dream.

Many discussions about The Brutalist focus on its critique of the American Dream. Although themes of immigration have appeared in countless films, The Brutalist distinguishes itself by zeroing in on a single artist’s experience in rural Pennsylvania. László’s hopeful outlook upon arriving in the United States gives way to disillusionment when he faces discrimination and repeated attempts to commodify his work. The film’s meditative pacing, which may seem daunting at first, ultimately forges a deep bond between the audience and László, transforming him into a fully realized character and one of the most memorable figures in recent American cinema.

What truly sets Corbet’s interpretation apart is its focus on control in the immigrant experience. Van Buren wields considerable power by creating a community center, complete with religious services, a library, and a gym, that centralizes daily life around his own vision. László’s goals, from reuniting with his family to bringing his architectural dreams to life, depend entirely on Van Buren’s funding and unpredictable whims.

This financial control also creates psychological pressure. Laborers working on the project rely on it for their livelihood and remain vulnerable to exploitation. The film underscores how precarious the refugee experience can be and how easily that vulnerability can be manipulated. László is not a pure hero, but a determined artist whose obsession with his vision alienates those he loves. Telling such a nuanced story on such a vast scale is a rare feat. It is remarkable how seamlessly everything comes together.

The bottom line.

The Brutalist is among the most striking contributions to American cinema in recent years. Its ambitious scope, intimate focus on character, outstanding performances, mesmerizing cinematography, and soaring score create a profound achievement. This is a film that reminds viewers of the fragility of the American Dream and reveals the intricate realities of an artist’s life.

The Brutalist is now playing in select theaters. Watch the trailer here.

Images courtesy of A24. Read more reviews by Pedro Luis Graterol here.

Pedro Luis Graterol

Based in Mexico, Pedro Graterol is the News editor for TV and Film of InBetweenDrafts. He is a Venezuelan political scientist, violist, and a nerd of all things pop culture. His legal signature includes Sonic The Hedgehog’s face.