The first half? Incredible.
The second half? Devastating, and not in the good way. The film became so dang dark!
SPOILER ALERT: Like November 2024's Here starring Tom Hanks and Robin Wright, I thought The Brutalist was going to be an "uplifting, triumphant family fare" sorta movie, but instead it was too post-Holocaust survival with sexual infidelity, sexual violence, pornography, and lots of heroin abuse. Ugh.
But I will say that the opening scene featuring the Statue of Liberty gave me goosebumps the size of golfballs. Shazam!
Granted, it will be nominated for several Oscars—because the film is absolutely TOWERING, gorgeous, and flawlessly executed—I just have an impossible time 'enjoying' films featuring the vices mentioned above.
Oh, and I have some unsolicited, unwelcome career advice for Joe Alwyn: Go find a redeemable, likable, down-and-out character role about a cowboy who (at his own expense) starts anew and becomes the better for it. More giving and less taking. And perhaps who even dies at the end to save someone else. Do that, under the direction of someone like Clint Eastwood (before it's too late for both of you!)—wearing a shiny badge that gets dusty, dented, and tarnished by the end—and who knows, maybe moviegoers will then look forward to seeing your mug in the future rather than dreading your every arrival on scene. Your uppity smugness and churlishness has grown tiresome, my friend!
