leeing to the United States after World War II, Hungarian-born architect Laszlo Toth (Adrien Brody) leaves his wife Erzsebet (Felicity Jones) and niece Zsofia (Raffey Cassidy) behind in Europe with the hopes of eventually reuniting in safer times. Heading to Pennsylvania, Laszlo is taken in by his cousin Attila (Alessandro Nivola) and his wife Audrey (Emma Laird) to help work in their furniture store. After a run-in with a client, wealthy businessman Harrison Lee Van Buren (Guy Pearce), Attila blames Laszlo for a financial loss and he’s forced to leave. Years pass with Laszlo relegated to menial construction work until Van Buren once again disrupts his life, this time with a mesmerizing opportunity: design an enormous community center in Doylestown, Pennsylvania in honor of the industrialist’s late mother. But as Laszlo begins this major undertaking, his journey finds him seesawing back and forth between prosperity and disaster.

Boasting the return of the overture (which is curiously brief) – as well as an intermission halfway through – “The Brutalist” isn’t afraid to herald its lengthy runtime. It’s bound to be a component that audiences will be aware of in advance; and if it isn’t, they’ll be in for a shock. Segueing into frenetic camerawork and chaos (the cinematography at the start is artistic and modern, while also routinely looking like a film from the ‘80s), mirroring shots from war movies, Toth arrives in New York, where his harrowing journey should transition into a serendipitous avenue – a completely fresh start – for the pursuit of the American Dream. At least he’s comforted by prostitutes straight away (the rest of the film has a pronounced current of taboo sexual episodes throughout). It’s a peculiar way to introduce a lead role, but it hints at misadventures to come. Additionally, the use of a title card for Part 1 promises the span of many years, if not decades, as the film chronicles the life of a man as he exists within numerous historical contexts.

Though the recreations of locations, vehicles, costumes, and props are amusing (the intricately detailed establishment of an era creates a striking authenticity), it’s the music by Daniel Blumberg that immediately sets “The Brutalist” apart, with thundering, bassy notes or gentle piano tunes popping up at regular intervals. The score is simply tremendous. Even when the premise meanders, the music suggests that something profound is just around the corner.

Unfortunately, it takes a considerable amount of time before the purpose of many interactions and designs and outcomes are elucidated; the unfamiliarity of the land, the unwelcoming nature (and betrayals) of various citizens, and the limited resources for those without direct familial connections must be navigated first (veering on occasion into obvious antisemitism but primarily landing on psychological discontent and unhealthy escapes from the mundanity of work – or the madness of a genius). And although Laszlo clings to his faith and exhibits a kindness and generosity even when he has little to give, making him initially sympathetic, his tale soon begins to resemble a rise-and-fall formula, with his many questionable choices steadily undermining his wholesomeness. There are ups and downs and successes and failures weaving across this biography, but tragedies never seem significant enough to allow Toth’s yarn to rise up to the poignant levels of the types of films it intermittently borrows from – including the designs and supporting parts of a gangster-less “Once Upon a Time in America,” or the hard-hitting character arcs of “There Will Be Blood,” or the traces of the uncompromising vision from “The Fountainhead,” or the heartbreaking reunions from “Reds” and “Out of Africa.” The adversity is too minimal to bring audiences on board, even if smaller events irreversibly reshape the title role’s destiny.

In the beginning, particularly with the complicated relationships and drug use, “The Brutalist” appears like a dream, riddled with calm moments that are quickly punctuated by disagreements that steer Laszlo down a new path, or pondering remarks that demonstrate his desire for a legacy (“What a poetic reply.). But the early sequences gradually disappear, as an eccentric, wealthy benefactor becomes too easy of a plot device, while Toth’s separation from his family has fleeting emotional impact thanks to such a disconnect with those personas (they’re barely mentioned and Felicity Jones doesn’t even appear in the first half). There may be beautiful moments, but with each one comes a handful of unnecessary follow-ups; for this premise, it’s too much of a challenge to populate it with more than three hours’ worth of essential material. The running time is a clear hindrance. And quite inexplicably, several shots end abruptly, as if writer/director Brady Corbet chose to truncate important intervals while expanding needless others.

The longer the film goes on for, the more it will likely alienate viewers; rather than struggling and persevering, Toth progressively self-destructs, but not even in the hard-to-watch ways that might push this experience into the realm of intense misfortune and calamity. His story just isn’t monumental enough to document (the most pitiable pieces of his past are altogether skipped over). The epilogue reveals that the destination may be more remarkable than the journey, but that notion absolutely does not translate well to the movie medium, concluding on a highly dissatisfactory note not unlike in “Babylon,” which was more focused on a message than the entertainment value of a solid, affecting story. Fortunately, the performances here are phenomenal, with Brody standing out in a production full of obvious year-end awards contenders.

– The Massie Twins