Behind the Façade: What lies beneath ‘The Brutalist’

The architect arrives in America with a dream of starting anew for himself, Erzsébet and their niece Zsófia after the gruelling experience during the Holocaust. Days pass, and we witness how László struggles to make ends meet in this country—being homeless, developing an addiction, and lining up for food distributions where he meets Gordon (Isaach de Bankolé), who later becomes his partner in crime for the rest of his journey in the ironically called “Land of the Free”. 

However, this film is not only the story of a struggling artist and an immigrant but also the story of how systemic racism, capitalism, and addiction cast a shadow on one’s life. This movie deserves its awards and nominations—bagging Best Motion Picture, Best Director, and Best Actor at the 97th Academy Award and 82nd Golden Globes Awards; as it tackles more than what the audiences expect to watch. It addresses issues that, while set in the past, continue to be relevant today. 

The Brutalist runs for three hours and 35 minutes, including a 15-minute intermission, which may be dreadful to some audiences. However, its riveting storytelling has put audiences on the edge of their seats while time quickly passed. It has three parts: ‘The Enigma of Arrival’, covering 1947-1952 postwar; ‘The Hard Core of Beauty’, spanning 1953-1960; and the epilogue showing a brief glimpse of László getting recognised in 1980 during the first architecture biennale in Venice. 

In the first part, we see László manage his way through life not only as a form of survival but also with the hope of reuniting with his wife after being forcefully separated from her. He suffers from racism even within his only family in Philadelphia, his cousin Attila. Living with his Catholic wife, Audrey, the two run a family business, “Miller & Sons”, despite having no one named Miller and no sons—this is Attila’s way of completely changing his name and erasing his Jewish identity. 

Related: In ‘Nosferatu’, true horror lies within the human

László then finally meets the reason for his ups and downs: the power-hungry wealthy man Harrison Lee Van Buren, after his son Harry (Joe Alwyn) pays a visit to Attila’s furniture shop to commission him to create a library for his millionaire father. Although they first met on the wrong foot, Harrison employs him years later after discovering that László is an established architect back home. Impressed by the architect’s modernist innovations, Van Buren commissions László to build a community centre in memory of his late mother. Regardless of the countless people opposing him in building the centre, Harrison continues to side with László. 

Throughout their relationship, we can clearly see their master-servant dynamic—Harrison sees László as his subordinate, despite excessively praising him. After a train accident that costs materials for the monument and leads to legal charges, Harrison drops the project, which left a huge impact on László’s life—highlighting how he holds the reins. Battling through the mud, László’s hardships continue in the next half of the movie. 

This film effectively narrates how people downplay the artistic values expressed in architecture, as well as other artforms, focusing instead on how they can profit from them. Harrison clearly does not understand anything László explains about the building—evident from the multiple times he disagrees with other workers’ opinions, in spite of describing their conversations as “intellectually stimulating”. He is rather focused on and blinded by the idea of capitalising the monument, even after painting it as a special structure to commemorate and honour his late mother. Capitalism eventually affects the artist and the art, as it has the power to drastically change the intended outcome of the work. 

It finally ends with a colourful montage honouring László’s contributions to the craft. Zsófia looks straight at the camera and breaks the fourth wall, saying: “No matter what the others try and sell you, it is the destination, not the journey.” Similar to real-life known brutalist architects, László’s story contrasts their own experiences—being recognised for their works but now struggling with conserving their supposed immortal architectures.

László and Erzsébet never reached the “American Dream” they thought they would get. The movie starts with Erzsébet encouraging her husband to go to America with the hope of having a better life. Soon, Zsófia tries to persuade them to return to Israel, but they both reject the offer. Erzsébet explains, “We have jobs here. I like my job.” This does not last long as they both soon realise how “rotten” the country is. We’ve always thought that it’ll be better once we set foot on the glorified country, but life is not going to be what it seems like once you experience them firsthand.

The Brutalist, as evident from its promotional materials, may make the audience think it is solely about an artist and architecture, but it is the message on the enduring social ills that made life brutal that would leave a lasting impression. Even with the ongoing debates surrounding the film’s use of Artificial Intelligence (AI), if you watch it for the first time with no prior knowledge of the controversy, the sequences involving AI are unnoticeable, which is both amazing and unsettling. This could set a precedent for AI taking over the movie scene sooner rather than later.

Every minute of The Brutalist is worth watching. Yes, it is not the easiest movie to watch for the unfocused mind, but it is rich in visually striking cinematography, introspective scoring, socially-relevant screenplay, and remarkable acting—“absolute cinema!” as Martin Scorsese would put it. 

The Brutalist will be available to watch exclusively at Ayala Malls Cinema starting March 5. 

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