The Brutalist Review 🔴 P B P ✔
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He has left an ailing wife Erzsébet (Felicity Jones) and niece Zsófia (Raffey Cassidy) in the hope of starting again, and his startling encounter with Lady Liberty – an echo of the menacing way Corbet ended his feature directorial debut, 2015's The Childhood of a Leader – is merely a hint of the troubles to come. The story is written with a light touch, but it carries a great weight: As László finds refuge and work in Pennsylvania alongside his cousin, Attila (Alessandro Nivola), he becomes entangled with a wealthy client, Harrison Lee Van Buren (Guy Pearce), who commissions him for a massive community center. As the job consumes him, Corbet and Fastvold draw us into the zero-sum reality of American life. What we find there is remarkably acted and perfectly paced, with the escalations that upend László’s day-to-day coming quickly before extending across months, if not years, that pass in the blink of an eye. As they try to build a life together, both are unaware of how they’re losing Zsófia, who mostly stays silent, but is always listening. Based on what she sees, she becomes convinced that the wrongs her family suffers can only be righted in a world where she wields all the power. It’s the most chilling part of a chilling film, lacing a thread about a family drifting apart into an increasingly sinister story of an artist and his benefactor.
This is what makes The Brutalist so emotionally, existentially resonant, and the way Corbet ties it all together left me reeling.
Corbet directs László’s work on the community center with an assured hand, making each scene feel essential and every single character development that much more revelatory. In particular, the way Van Buren takes advantage of and increasingly abuses everyone he can gives shape to Corbet and Fastvold’s portrayal of a uniquely American cruelty. Here is a man with everything who can’t seem to stop taking from those with infinitely less. He taunts László, humiliating him while he dangles freedom and fulfillment before him, but he’ll soon inflict even greater harm on him. Pearce plays the character with a smarmy charisma, broadcasting Van Buren’s calculated moves and sense of superiority with stomach-churning effectiveness. In closeups, there’s a simmering yet cold rage in the actor’s eyes. He makes Van Buren a painfully familiar figure: He and men like him are the ones who make our world, and the people in it, crueler.