A24’s 2024 epic ‘The Brutalist’ defies definition (and categorization). Brady Corbet believes that “every movie that gets made is a miracle”. The Childhood of a Leader and Vox Lux director’s recent offering definitely is. It portrays the monumental journey of Hungarian émigré László Tóth from his Holocaust past to the American Dream. László realizes his architectural ambition with the help of wealthy industrialist and patron Harrison Lee Van Buren Sr. but somewhere loses himself in the process. The period drama captures the trials and tribulations and peaks and downfalls of the protagonist throughout his journey.
Director and producer Corbet has co-written this sweeping saga along with his wife Mona Fastvold. It deals with multiple themes, such as culture vs. capitalism, art vs. commerce, antisemitism, architecture, class inequality, and the emigrant experience. Pitted against discrimination, desire, addiction, and exploitation, László strives to bring his ambitious architectural project to fruition: a modernist community center in metropolitan Philadelphia. Rooted in history and flying in imagination, a story such as this is bound to draw speculations whether it originates from real-life luminaries or literary references.
The Brutalist Is Set In a Post-War World
The Brutalist is not based on a real-life story but is replete with historical (and architectural) references and cultural symbolisms.
The first (and most obvious) reference is the setting. The movie is set in the 1950s, after the Second World War, which coincidentally also refers to the time when brutalist architecture was at its peak. Thus, the film’s eponymous title comes across as no surprise. László Tóth, a Hungarian-Jewish architect, escapes the horrors of the Buchenwald concentration camp and reaches New York for a better future. Tóth studied at Bauhaus Dessau, a German art school popular among the architects and artists of that time, which the Nazis forced to close in 1933. Funnily, a similar rehash is happening today with Donald Trump’s executive order to beautify federal buildings (and destroy the Brutalist ones).
Even the format in which the film is mounted is a hat-tip to the times. The 82nd Golden Globe Awards nominee is shot on VistaVision, a retro format developed by Paramount in the 1950s. It lends a grand scale to the piece of celluloid, its wide field of view making it a no-brainer for a film on architecture. The last full feature film shot with this format was Marlon Brando’s One-Eyed Jacks (1961).
The Brutalist Deals With the Emigrant Experience
The emigrant POV is a natural denouement of the narrative. Perhaps this is why László Tóth bears much resemblance to brutalist architects from that time, namely Marcel Breuer (Hungarian-German), Louis Kahn (Estonian-American), Le Corbusier (French-Swiss), and Paul Rudolph (American).
In his own words, Corbet’s motivation to explore the “relationship between postwar psychology and postwar architecture” came from the book Marcel Breuer and a Committee of 12 Build a Church.
A brief dive into the people behind the film also reveals rich references. Adrian Body—who plays László excellently—has a Hungarian background. So does his mother Sylvia Plachy, who emigrated to America from Hungary in the 1950s. Just like the protagonist, László, she made it big as an artist in the 1960s—a renowned photographer whose work is exhibited in the Museum of Modern Art. Here’s another fun reference: Dávid Jancsó, who edited the film, is the son of the Hungarian filmmaker Miklós Jancsó.
Literary Influences and Symbolism in The Brutalist
Corbet, who won the Best Director prize for the film at the Venice Film Festival, notes his favorite author, W.G. Sebald, as an inspiration for his historical masterpiece.
“Sebald created fictions that feel like very authentic accounts of the past — as a way of accessing the past.”, shares Corbet.
He also mentions V.S. Naipaul—a prolific documenter of the emigrant experience—as another one of his inspirations. In fact, the first chapter of the movie “The Enigma of Arrival” is named after Naipaul’s book.
Corbet also specifically visualized the film as both minimalist and maximalist. While the film’s lack of architectural shots focuses on his minimalist vision, the score contained tell-tale signs from the 1950s: jazz, the Beat movement, etc.
A specific scene that stands out in its symbolism of Western capitalism is the one depicting Carrara. The pinnacle of the world’s finest marble, Carrara, portrays the artist’s creative abundance and the patron’s exploitative shallowness: a storyline that comes alive through the interactions between László and his patron, Harrison, in the latter part of the film.
The Brutalist Narrates the Story of an Emigrant Artist in a Capitalist World
The Brutalist has a runtime of 215 minutes, including a 15-minute intermission. It’s divided into three parts: The Enigma of Arrival (Part 1), The Hard Core of Beauty (Part 2), and Epilogue.
In Corbet’s words: “The first half of the movie is American optimism and the second half is Greek tragedy.”
Architect László Tóth leaves the post-war locales of Hungary and his wife Erzsébet and niece Zsófia to reach the shores of America. In Philadelphia, he meets Attila and his Catholic wife, Audrey, while searching for work. Soon, he joins Attila’s furniture business, Miller & Sons (christened to an American identity). László adds a modernist (and brutalist) touch to the colonial pieces in Attila’s shop. It raises eyebrows and draws suspicion, especially from Audrey.
An uneasy sensation of subtle symbolism brims in the scenes. Yet there are moments of emphatic grandeur as well. For example, a heavily symbolic upside-down frame of The Statue of Liberty jerks the viewer into thought. Corbet meant it when he talked about his blend of minimalism and maximalism.
László’s stint at the furniture store comes to an end when he meets wealthy industrialist Harrison Lee Van Buren Sr. (played by an electric Guy Pearce). This opens up an opportunity for him to renovate Harrison’s study and library (commissioned by his kids, son Harry and daughter Maggie, as a surprise). It doesn’t catch Harrison’s fancy at first, and he decommissions László, who also loses his place to stay (thanks to Audrey). László eventually sinks into a heroin addiction along with his emigrant friend, Gordon.
When Harrison’s library catches the discerning eyes of architects and gains appreciation, Harrison brings László back and commissions him to build a community center. The fire to create an architectural legacy burns bright in László’s heart. As a token of appreciation, Harrison also helps him bring his wife Erzsébet and niece Zsófia to America.
The second chapter involves a lot of Harrison. It pits his crude materialistic approach to László’s artistic one. Tensions arise invariably. The rift between art and commerce widens.
In a Rolling Stone interview, Guy Pearce, who’s electric as Harrison, reflects, “It’s not enough for some people to own the art. They want to own the artist as well.’ Scenes escalate in intensity as the project goes awry for László, and capitalist ambition bares its fangs from behind the sophisticated civility of Harrison. A crime happens as well. So does a confrontation.
The epilogue, when it comes, seems like a night after a storm. It calmly reveals the present state of the characters. The viewers get a chance to reflect on the monumental journey each of them has overcome to reach where they are.
Corbet, despite the meager $10 million budget for this grandly mounted film, has crafted a story of epic proportions. He has dealt with multiple themes during this course. The three-hour runtime might raise viewers’ hesitations about the journey the film will take them on and make them yearn to reach the end destination. However, despite what the film says in the end, the film’s journey is worth its time.
Leave a comment