The Brutalist (2024): An Oscar-Winning Triumph or a Controversial Choice?

The Brutalist has been the talk of the town ever since its monumental Oscar triumph this year, placing director Brady Corbet and star Adrien Brody squarely in the spotlight. With its epic 215-minute runtime, a throwback 15-minute intermission, and the revival of the near-forgotten VistaVision shooting format, this film’s production process would be enough to spark controversy on its own. Now, with The Brutalist actually taking home the Oscar for Best Picture and securing Adrien Brody an historic second Best Actor win (22 years after his first!), the story grows even more complex. Controversy has swirled around the film’s subtle (but significant) use of artificial intelligence, fueling debates over whether this cinematic feat is truly a masterpiece—or if its legacy will be tainted by issues overshadowing its artistic merit.

If you’re looking for more information on The Brutalist, from movie summaries and actor spotlights to quizzes and links to other trusted sources, check out its dedicated page on What’s After the Movie. This site, WhatsAfterTheMovie.com, also hosts a host of additional features, like user-submitted reviews and broader film discussions—plus, we have even more articles right on our blog.

Below, let’s dive deep into everything that makes The Brutalist such a compelling—and contentious—cinematic experience.

---

The Plot and Themes

At its core, The Brutalist follows the fictional Hungarian-Jewish architect László Tóth (Adrien Brody) as he struggles to rebuild his life in the United States after surviving the Holocaust. Torn from his wife Erzsébet (Felicity Jones) and niece Zsófia during the war, he arrives on American shores facing cultural barriers, poverty, and lingering trauma. Everything changes when a wealthy and enigmatic industrialist, Harrison Van Buren (Guy Pearce), commissions him to design a massive community center on Van Buren’s estate in Pennsylvania. Yet, Tóth soon discovers that this benefactor’s support may come at a steep personal cost.

The film explores various overlapping themes that elevate it beyond a typical awards-season drama. The immigrant experience looms large, with László confronting the promise of the American Dream and the reality of marginalization in equal measure. The tension between artistic integrity and commercial demands runs parallel to László’s personal story, culminating in a clash of wills with Van Buren that unearths the murkiest sides of both capitalism and patronage. Meanwhile, the film’s portrayal of postwar trauma resonates through László’s struggles, revealing how the horrors of the Holocaust still lurk in his creative ambitions and in his attempts to reunite his family. In essence, The Brutalist is about confronting the lingering ghosts of one’s past while endeavoring to build something meaningful and lasting in a foreign, and at times hostile, new land.

---

The Return of VistaVision (and More)

One aspect that has immediately drawn cinema buffs to The Brutalist is its use of VistaVision—the horizontally oriented large-format technology once celebrated by Alfred Hitchcock. Brady Corbet even pushed further by mixing 35mm 2-perf, 3-perf, 4-perf, and 8-perf film gauges, which evokes the texture of mid-century epics. Shooting in Budapest (standing in for Pennsylvania) helped replicate a period look, especially with the surviving VistaVision cameras, which are rare and notoriously cumbersome.

Director Brady Corbet and cinematographer Lol Crawley BSC wanted to showcase the architectural grandeur at the center of László’s story. By capturing wide, detailed frames of brutalist buildings, plus the looming grandeur of the Carrara marble quarries in Tuscany, they established a visual motif that’s both breathtaking and thematically relevant. The marble quarries, for instance, underscore capitalism’s ability to hollow out both land and spirit, reflecting László’s own exploitation under Van Buren’s patronage.

---

Epic Length, Epic Controversy

Clocking in at 215 minutes, with a 15-minute intermission, The Brutalist recaptures an old-school approach that modern audiences rarely encounter. The intermission is an intentional callback to mid-century “road show” releases, allowing viewers time to catch their breath—while also serving as a subtle thematic break in the film, echoing the dual chapters of László Tóth’s life.

Critics, bloggers, and general audiences alike have divided opinions on this format. Some celebrate the film’s ambitious scope, lauding it as a welcome return to classic cinema’s willingness to test endurance for the sake of richly layered storytelling. Others find it indulgent, arguing that a shorter cut could have achieved the same narrative impact without straining viewers’ patience. Still, the film’s champions insist that the extended runtime allows for a granular exploration of László’s evolution as both an architect and a Holocaust survivor.

---

Adrien Brody: A Triumph 22 Years in the Making

No element of The Brutalist has garnered more awards-season attention than Adrien Brody’s second Oscar for Best Actor. Twenty-two years after his groundbreaking win for The Pianist, Brody’s career had settled into a pattern of eclectic roles with varying box-office success. Critics suggest that his performance as László Tóth might stand alongside his very best work, showcasing a refined method that draws equally on personal heritage and raw emotional depth.

Brody portrays László as a man perpetually on the brink of both revelation and collapse. The actor’s own family history—his mother fled Hungary after the 1956 revolution—infuses authenticity into scenes where László grapples with the strain of assimilation and the memories of war. By the film’s second act, the architect’s ambitions and tragedies intersect in ways that demand enormous emotional stamina from Brody. Many suggest this role provides the synergy of timing, talent, and craftsmanship that finally catapulted him into the awards-season conversation again. Indeed, Brody’s acceptance speech—one of the longest on record—became its own talking point, touching on everything from war’s lasting wounds to the fragility of an actor’s life in Hollywood.

---

AI in Post-Production: Tool or Threat?

Alongside Brody’s accolades, much of the buzz around The Brutalist focuses on its use of artificial intelligence. In post-production, the team employed AI software from Ukrainian tech firm Respeecher to fine-tune Brody and Jones’s spoken Hungarian dialogue. Because Hungarian is one of the most challenging languages for English speakers, minor corrections were applied to vowels and consonants to preserve linguistic accuracy. This was a manual, careful process driven by professionals who sought to maintain the integrity of each actor’s performance, rather than overwrite it.

Yet, the debate isn’t just about dialogue fixes. Generative AI appears late in the film during the Venice Biennale epilogue, where digital “architectural drawings” in László’s style are brought to life on screen. While supporters argue this mirrors other standard film techniques—like motion capture or CGI—critics fear a slippery slope. Producer D.J. Gugenheim insists no actor or artist lost their job to AI, and that the technology was more of an expediting tool than a creative replacement. Still, the Academy’s revelation that it might consider requiring AI disclosures for future Oscar contenders underscores the ongoing—and intensifying—concern around this issue.

---

Architecture as Allegory: Brutalism on Full Display

The film’s title, The Brutalist, is a deliberate nod to the postwar architectural style that emerged in the 1950s and ’60s. Brutalist structures are typically massive, minimalist, and constructed with raw concrete. They emphasize function over decoration, an aesthetic that many find stark or even “menacing.” In the film, László Tóth’s dream project—a community center replete with chapel, pool, and library—becomes a direct representation of his internal struggles and aspirations.

By weaving together references to Bauhaus training, historical figures like Marcel Breuer, and real-world places such as the Carrara quarries, director Corbet aligns László’s architectural journey with the broader immigrant story. Surviving the Holocaust and attempting to forge a grand creative vision in a land that remains suspicious of him, Tóth finds a certain parallel in Brutalism itself: austere, functional, and often misunderstood. The industrial feel of exposed concrete and harsh lines seem to symbolize the bruising confrontation between an idealistic dreamer and an unyielding environment—whether that environment is a wealthy patron’s estate or a nation wrestling with its own postwar identity.

---

Critical Reception and Audience Buzz

The critical response to The Brutalist has been varied, yet consistently passionate. Some reviewers hail it as a bold cinematic gesture that successfully merges classic Hollywood spectacle with a decidedly modern sensibility. The extended runtime, the blend of film gauges, and Corbet’s willingness to slip into moments of lyrical or near-mystical reverie are lauded by those who see the film as “epic cinema” at its best. For these viewers, the payoff is an immersive experience that captures the deep psychological and social forces shaping László’s journey.

Others, however, criticize the film’s length and final act as unnecessarily unwieldy. The sudden leap to the Venice Biennale in 1980, for instance, has spawned countless online debates about narrative cohesion. Some feel that The Brutalist ends on an ambiguous note that undermines the momentum built in the first three hours, while others argue that the film’s measured openness to interpretation is exactly what gives it staying power. The AI controversy has only further inflamed discussions, prompting some pundits to question whether The Brutalist represents the first wave of an “AI-tinged Oscar era.”

Nonetheless, it’s clear that the film has found a devoted following—one that appreciates its ambition, Adrien Brody’s triumphant performance, and the grand cinematic tradition it invokes. Whether one adores or dislikes it, The Brutalist has become a lightning rod for larger cultural debates about technology’s role in film, the nature of epic storytelling, and the expectations modern audiences bring to a near-four-hour drama.

---

Where to Find More Information

For anyone interested in exploring The Brutalist further, there’s a wealth of information across major platforms:

• You can check out Metacritic for aggregated critic scores and user reviews.
• Rotten Tomatoes compiles fresh takes and audience reactions.
• The IMDB page offers credits, trivia, and forums for discussion.
• TMDB and Wikipedia provide quick overviews, cast/crew data, and production details.
• JustWatch, Box Office Mojo, Movie Insider, and Letterboxd all feature different angles on its release history, box office stats, or fan-centered discussions.

Be sure to visit What’s After the Movie for a complete movie summary, user quizzes, discussion sections, and more.

---

Final Verdict: A Landmark Film—But at What Cost?

Is The Brutalist truly the best movie of 2024—one that deserved to sweep the Oscars and propel Adrien Brody back to the top of Hollywood? Or has its elaborate runtime, AI involvement, and massive scope overshadowed an otherwise more intimate tale of postwar survival, artistic ambition, and grief?

From one perspective, the film stands as a sheer display of cinematic ambition. Brady Corbet and Mona Fastvold have crafted a multi-layered epic that embraces both the spectacle of classic filmmaking and the contemporary debates swirling around technology and authenticity. The cinematography’s nod to Hollywood’s golden age, the enthralling exploration of brutalist architecture, and Brody’s captivating performance come together to yield an unforgettable experience.

Yet, it’s impossible to discuss The Brutalist without engaging with its controversies. The AI element has ignited discussions about labor, originality, and what it truly means to perform. The film’s length and concluding leap to 1980 continue to split audiences, signaling that this is a piece of art designed to provoke conversation as much as appreciation.

In short, The Brutalist may be both an Oscar-winning masterpiece and a divisive statement on where filmmaking is headed. Its fusion of heritage techniques and cutting-edge technology provides much to celebrate and question in equal measure. Whether you champion its place in the annals of cinematic history or remain unconvinced, The Brutalist ensures that you’ll remember László Tóth’s unwavering drive to build something monumental out of trauma and displacement—and that alone cements its status as one of the most unforgettable films in recent memory.