This may be a controversial opinion, but I think Brady Corbet‘s The Brutalist is actually a simple movie. Yes, it’s 215 minutes. Yes, it has a 15-minute intermission. Yes, a lot happens. But the metaphor? The metaphor is pretty straightforward.
The Brutalist explained
Toth vs. Van Buren as a microcosm of America
The Brutalist’s opening scene establishes László Tóth’s arrival to America by way of Ellis Island, in 1947. He is, like the millions before and after him, an immigrant with a dream.
Contrasting Laszlo is Harrison Lee Van Buren. A magnate who lords over Philadelphia. Part of the 1% who play a key role in the industrial development of the United States.
I know some might call me a philistine when I say this: but that’s it, that’s the metaphor. Everything you need to know about The Brutalist is right there. As immense as the film feels in stature, it’s not really any more complicated than understanding the dynamic between Toth and Van Buren.
Toth lacks money but is an artist who adds beauty to the world. Van Buren is the inverse. He has money but possesses zero artistic faculties. He isn’t inspired. Or a craftsman. But he wishes to be. Which is why he tries to possess Toth. First as a patron. Then as an employer. And, finally, physically. Harrison’s assault of Laszlo is the culmination of the film’s thesis on how the country thinks of and treats immigrants.
The American dream, brutalized
Pay attention to what Van Buren says to Laszlo during the assault:
Mr. Toth, what have you done to yourself? It’s a shame seeing how your people treat themselves. If you resent your persecution, why then do you make of yourself such an easy target? If you act as a loafer, living off handouts, a societal leech, how can you—how can you rightfully expect a different result? You, you have so much potential. But you squander it…. Who do you think you are? Who do you think you are? You think you’re special. You think you—You’ve just flown directly above all those you encounter, because you’re beautiful, because you’re educated. You’re just a tramp. You’re a lady of the night. You’re just a lady of the night.
The “us vs. them” dynamic is front and center. Instead of acknowledging the systemic issues that keep immigrants in a state of “persecution”, Van Buren reduces it to a personal failure. The truth is: Van Buren resents Toth’s talent and education. Is jealous of it.
As sophisticated as Van Buren portrays himself, he grew up incredibly poor. It was only him and his mother, Margaret. Because she had Harrison out of wedlock, her family abandoned them. The dad disappeared. He has a chip on his shoulder. In the words of Daniel Plainview from There Will Be Blood, “I have a competition in me. I want no one else to succeed. I hate most people.” Van Buren’s cut from the same cloth.
The Brutalist points out the hypocrisy contained in America’s past, present, and, probably, future. The country has relied on immigrant populations to build its cities, elevate its cuisine, fill out its towns, and electrify its culture. It welcomes them, exploits them, then hates them for a job well done.
That’s the text, context, and subtext of Erzsebet’s climactic call out of Harrison, when she appears at dinner and informs his entire family that Harrison’s a rapist. Again, that’s not just Erzsebet calling out Harrison. At that point, she’s speaking to the immigrant experience in this country. And saying Van Buren and the people like him have taken advantage of the millions of Laszlos who came here with the best of intentions and tried to make a difference, only to be taken advantage of.
Called out like that, what does Harrison do? He disappears. I read that as optimistic on Corbet’s part. This idea that once the light shines on such monstrous behavior, the monster flees. Once gone, maybe changes can be made? But it takes someone speaking up and speaking out. And others not only hearing what’s said but caring.
Identity and Assimilation: Laszlo vs. Attila
I want to double back real fast to the idea of thinking representationally. It’s a key part of watching movies. Especially “higher brow” films like The Brutalist. What does that mean?
The first step is figuring out what a character represents, broadly speaking. Sometimes that’s easier said than done (looking at you, Beau is Afraid). But in The Brutalist, it’s pretty straightforward. For example, Laszlo’s introduction is his arrival to Ellis Island, one of many immigrants starting a new life in America.
Laszlo’s cousin, Attila, serves as a contrast. While Laszlo struggles to fully acclimate, Attila changes his name, loses his accent, marries an American, and converts religions. He has shrugged off almost every aspect of his previous identity and fully Americanized.
Laszlo’s arrival in Attila’s life actually throws a wrench in that process. How can Attila feel American when Laszlo’s right there, reminding Attila of how Hungarian and Jewish he truly is. When Attila kicks Laszlo out, sure, there are story reasons for it. Audrey lies about Laszlo making a pass at her. And Attila blames Laszlo for the library job going wrong. But those are just superficial “reasons”. The deeper “reason” is that Attila can’t have Laszlo around because Laszlo isn’t American enough for him.
That establishes a theme of identity. Can immigrants be themselves in a new country? Or do they have to become someone else? Something else?
Identity and Assimilation, round 2: Laszlo vs Erzsebet
That’s the core of Laszlo’s relationship with Erzsébet. Laszlo has spent years creating this life in America. And now Erszebet and Zsófia are there, representing his old life. Which sets up the question: will Laszlo be like Attila and reject who he had been or will he manage to maintain his identity?
That’s why Laszlo and Erzsebet fight so much. Again, like with Atilla, there are specific story reasons for why they fight. But, really, all of it represents the struggle with identity. Every fight they have is rooted in some aspects of Laszlo’s time in America. He’s not actually arguing with his wife but with someone who represents his better self.
There are two ways the story Americanizes Eszsebet. First, her job. She had been a serious journalist but now writes unserious beauty articles (something Zsofia calls her out for). Second, when Laszlo gets her hooked on heroin and she almost dies. What happens after that? She decides to move to Israel.
What makes somewhere feel like home?
The move to Israel gets at another theme: the idea of “home”. When Zsófia tells Erzsebet and Laszlo she and her husband are moving to Israel, she says: “We must go home, now.” While the older couple had spent years trying to make this country feel like home, Zsofia decides it’s not that and will never be that.
It’s fitting, then, that The Brutalist ends with dialogue from an older Zsofia.
“Don’t let anyone fool you, Zsofia,” [Laszlo] would say to me, as a struggling young mother raising my daughter during our first years in Jerusalem. “No matter what the authors try and sell you, it is the destination, not the journey.”
That could lead some to a very cynical conclusion that The Brutalist is advocating against immigration. But I don’t think that’s a fair reading. Why?
Early in the film, when Attila’s wife nudges Laszlo to leave. She says, “I’m sure you could get a job. A better job. At a firm here.” And Laszlo, after a long pause, responds, “I then would be working for someone.”
One of the film’s main motifs is employment and its impact on relationships (and self-esteem). Attila doesn’t just ask Laszlo to leave because of Aubrey, he asks because Harry Lee, Harrison’s son, refuses to pay them for the library renovation. Attila blames Laszlo for that.
When Laszlo and his friend, Gordon, work the same job, as equals, their relationship is pure. Once Laszlo employs Gordon, the dynamic changes. Gordon becomes beholden to Laszlo in the same way Laszlo’s beholden to Van Buren. Until Laslzo, in a fit of rage, fires Gordon for trying to be a good person. Time and again, the person with power inevitably wields it against those who don’t. That’s America.
Remember how Laszlo hates the foreman and the architectural consultant? Both compromise Laszlo’s ability to be his own boss. Think of Toth’s big architecture project as a metaphor for his life in America. He has this vision and has the ability to make it happen. Except these other guys compromise and frustrate it. It’s the loss of control, of self-direction, that drives Laszlo crazy.
What’s the difference between being in your home and someone else’s? In your own home, you make the decisions.
How can Laszlo call America home when to be here he has to make so many compromises due to systemic issues that limit his opportunities and capacity? The only reason Attila feels at home is because he changed everything about himself. Would you be willing to pay that same price?
I like to think The Brutalist’s ultimate message isn’t the cynical concept that no one should come to America because it will never feel like home. I like to think it’s saying we, as a nation, shouldn’t be satisfied with how far we’ve come (the journey), because we still have a ways to go, but that we can, one day, be the destination we pretend to be.
Like Laszlo’s building, America is an unfinished work of architecture that we’re all building together. It’s not pretty, in the traditional sense, but there’s beauty to be found in its brutalism.
Proof from the filmmaker, Brady Corbet
For those of you who need a quote or two from the filmmaker. In an interview with The Hollywood Reporter, Corbet, citing his influences, said, “Naipaul, like Sebard, explored conflicts in the Congo by representing Africa by means of a fictional character set in a very specific place and period.”
The idea of representing an entire country through characters in a narrative is exactly what Corbet does in The Brutalist. I’d like to note that I found this quote after writing the entire analysis. So it’s not like I based my explanation off the quote or anything. I just like to look things up afterwards. I say that and just read more of the interview where Corbet explains even further.
The film is about how the artistic experience and immigrant experience march in lockstep, which is to say that, in general, if someone moves into a suburban town in America and they don’t look like everybody else—because of the color of their skin or because of their beliefs or traditions—everybody wants theme to get the fuck out…. So, for me, Brutalist architecture is representative of something that people do not understand and that they want torn down and ripped away.
Cast
- László Tóth – Adrian Brody
- Erzsébet Tóth – Felicity Jones
- Zsófia – Raffey Cassidy
- Adult Zsófia – Ariane Labed
- Harrison Lee Van Buren – Guy Pearce
- Harry Lee Van Buren – Joe Alwyn
- Maggie Van Buren – Stacy Martin
- Attila – Alessandro Nicola
- Audrey – Emma Laird
- Gordon – Isaach de Bankolé
- Michael Hoffman – Peter Polycarpou
- Michelle Hoffman – Maria Sand
- Leslie Woodrow – Jonathan Hyde
- Orazio, the marble expert in Carrara – Salvatore Sansone
- Written by – Brady Corbet | Mona Fastvold
- Directed by – Brady Corbet
