The Brutalist: A Pretentious Fog of Style Over Substance
The Brutalist epitomizes a film that prioritizes style over substance, leaving audiences engulfed in a pretentious haze. Spanning an exhausting three and a half hours, it offers little more than a series of drawn-out moments filled with self-indulgent symbolism and convoluted metaphors centred around architecture.
Set in the aftermath of World War II, the film follows Lazlo Toth (Adrien Brody), a resilient immigrant who arrives in America determined to rebuild his life from the ruins of his past. As he navigates the harsh realities of a new world, he finds solace and purpose in the stark, imposing structures of Bauhaus German architecture. However, his journey is not just about constructing buildings; it’s about constructing an identity and a sense of belonging in a land that is both promising and unforgiving. Through the lens of architectural symbolism, the film explores themes of identity, survival, and the human spirit’s unyielding quest for meaning amidst adversity.
What could have been a gripping narrative about overcoming adversity devolves into a tiresome slog through various architectural references that contribute little to the story’s progression. At its core, the film aims to narrate the journey of a World War II immigrant striving to establish a life in America. Yet rather than meaningfully engaging with the protagonist’s struggles, The Brutalist continually strays into an elaborate and unnecessary exploration of architectural forms and styles, often coming across as desperately pretentious.
The immigrant’s plight—navigating the harsh realities of a new world—should evoke genuine empathy; however, this vital aspect is pushed into the background in favour of prolonged shots of stark buildings that, though visually striking, fail to advance the narrative. Each scene stretches interminably, suggesting that the filmmakers equate length with depth. This overemphasis on architecture as a metaphor for the immigrant experience quickly becomes tedious, drowning the true emotional core of the story.
The film insists upon layers of meaning that feel contrived rather than organic, prompting one to question whether the filmmakers were more invested in showcasing their intellectualism than in crafting a compelling story. The lack of contextual depth regarding the protagonist’s struggles renders the film’s message ultimately hollow; while we witness the character’s challenges, we rarely feel them. In a work purporting to tackle vital themes of identity, belonging, and survival, the excessive focus on architectural symbolism undermines any potential emotional impact.
The creators appear to lose sight of the fact that a true narrative should elevate the human experience rather than allowing the surrounding structures to overshadow the profound struggles faced by individuals. In the end, The Brutalist becomes a staggering disappointment—an overtly bleak and pretentious effort that desperately seeks artistic validation but fails to resonate on any meaningful level.
In the screenplay of The Brutalist, the character of Toth’s niece is indeed mentioned as redundant and detracts from the film. Her presence in the narrative does not contribute significantly to the story’s progression or the development of the main themes. Instead, her character seems to be an unnecessary addition that disrupts the flow of the film.
The film already struggles with an overemphasis on architectural symbolism and prolonged scenes that fail to advance the narrative. Adding Toth’s niece into the mix only exacerbates this issue, making the storyline even more convoluted and disjointed. Her character does not add any meaningful depth or insight into the protagonist’s journey or the central themes of identity, survival, and belonging. Instead, she serves as a distraction that detracts from the film’s emotional core and overall coherence.
By including such a redundant character, the filmmakers seem to have lost sight of the importance of a focused and compelling narrative. This decision ultimately undermines the film’s potential impact and leaves the audience feeling disconnected and disengaged.
However, one of the film’s redeeming qualities is the stellar performance of Adrien Brody. Brody brings a profound depth and authenticity to his role, capturing the emotional turmoil and resilience of his character with remarkable finesse. His portrayal is both compelling and empathetic, providing a much-needed anchor amidst the film’s otherwise convoluted narrative.
If you’re in search of films that explore the intricacies of the immigrant experience with sensitivity and depth, consider watching classics such as The Godfather Part II, Lars von Trier’s Dancer in the Dark (2000), or Jim Sheridan’s In America (2002). These films strike a balance between their themes and storytelling, moving beyond mere self-righteous metaphors and meandering scenes that evoke a landscape of despair.
These cinematic masterpieces offer a more authentic and heartfelt examination of the immigrant experience, delving into the complexities of identity, family, and the quest for acceptance in a new homeland. Unlike The Brutalist, they do not rely on superficial symbolism or contrived plots to convey their messages; rather, they allow audiences to genuinely connect with the characters and their journeys. So, if you’re yearning for a film that will not only move you but also challenge your perspectives, look beyond the superficial allure of pretentious works and immerse yourself in the rich authenticity of these extraordinary films.
Winner of 3 Golden Globes and nominated for 10 Academy Awards, The Brutalist opens in cinemas on Friday, 7 February.
-Dirk Lombard Fourie