The Brutalist

At no point during The Brutalist’s runtime did I feel bored, which is an impressive feat for any 4-hour movie. Brady Corbet’s latest fictional biopic fashions itself in the vein of The Godfather: a rise-and-fall American epic about the midcentury immigrant experience. And for the most part, it succeeds.  The meticulous period piece sets and the character-driven script lends the movie a lovely vibe. I could have watched another two hours of Adrien Brody, Felicity Jones, and Guy Pearce bringing their best acting A-game. I can see myself rewatching this movie just to live in its world for a little bit longer. At the end of the day, this movie is simply fun, and there’s something to be said for that. Where The Brutalist falls short compared to the genre greats like The Godfather or There Will Be Blood is in its thematic commitment. This is hard to explain, but when I watched the latter two movies, I felt an immediate connection to their thesis. There is a brilliant vitality bursting out of those films. The Brutalist feels a bit more aimless. Things happen, and the plot continues to move forward. Few elements are ever of great consequence because we rarely fully see the outcome or transformation resulting from those moments. Even some of those most pivotal or devastating scenes are immediately resolved in the next moment, without mention of their lasting impact. There are two major characters whose fates are never shown. Furthermore the tone of the final ten minutes is sort of all over the place.  All that being said, the film is still genuine entertainment. Barring the occasional dark turns, I would actually describe the atmosphere as cozy. Overall The Brutalist is an amazing effort. A few sophomoric choices bring it down, but they don’t detract significantly from its merits. It’s joyfully watchable and entertaining. However, I wonder what greatness this could have been if the director had followed his own main character’s principle — uncompromising artistic commitment.