The Brutalist

I thought the days when films looked great were gone forever. You know, when they actually looked like films, with that special magical look, in the ‘50s. I don’t mean simply shot on celluloid, I mean the texture of those colours, that can only exist on the silver screen, far from reality. And then, the flickering Vistavision logo proudly lit the Darsena room at the Venice Film Festival: Brady Corbet’s The Brutalist had begun.

“Monumental” would be an appropriate word to sum up this film. Its scale matches only the director’s gargantuan ambitions, and it is reassuring to see Universal Pictures committing to such a colossal production without some fellows wearing a cape. In a day when most films tend to be unjustifiably too long, especially at this edition of the festival when the 120-minute mark is a fading memory, The Brutalist boasts a demanding 215 minutes running time. Yet, this is not a regular movie, but the chance to experience a proper epic, ouverture included, in similar proportions to when Lawrence of Arabia or 2001 were firstly released. This oddissey is an american one, following the life of Laszlo Toth, impeccably played by Adrien Brody, emigrating from Budapest to the United States after surviving the Shoah, and looking for fortune trying to achieve his architectural projects. His surviving family, composed of nephew and wife (Felicity Jones), are stuck in Europe. With no money and unappreciated skills, he tries to fit in the new world through his unique vision.

This anachronistically impossible film explores the post-war collective psychology while chronicling the history of modern architecture. And brutal is not only Lazslo’ style, but also the cards that life as an immigrant deals him. The Land of Dreams is an illusion, opposite from the concrete, imposing shapes that the architect tries to trace on his path. A hell disguised as paradise, whose devil has the shape of charismatic millionaire Harrison Van Buten, played by an excellent Guy Pearce, who becomes Lazslo’s patron, blessing, and curse, who offers him the hope to reinstate his reputation building a titanic Cathedral on a hill outside Philadelphia.

Laszlo Toth is an artist, he has something to say, and his message lies within the commanding buildings that cover the sky. The ending masterfully ties together Lazslo’s obsessiveness with his works, giving a profound meaning to his unscrupulous journey. The Brutalist, a serious contender for this year’s Golden Lion, definitely left its mark on the Lido. During its fifteen-minutes long intermission, hundreds of viewers began shouting the final 10 seconds of the countdown, cheering with the same enthusiasm as if it were New Year’s Eve. And maybe, to an extent, it was.