The Brutalist (2024) ****

The Brutalist boldly attempts to be a modern American epic. It's about many things, architecture, Jewish identity in post-war America, power and wealth, war trauma, and the most importantly the power of art. Directed by Brady Corbett, whose Vox Lux from 2018 I admired, it has narrative breadth of Coppola and the daring character insight of Paul Thomas Anderson films. The tension between art and politics is always simmering beneath the film's surface, vibrating through the narrative. 

Adrien Brody stars as Laszlo Toth, a Jewish architect emigrating to America from Hungary, a survivor of the Dachau concentration camp. He settles in Pennsylvania with a cousin who owns a furniture store, while his wife and niece have yet to escape Europe. We learn Laszlo was a brilliant architect who designed buildings in Budapest which survived the war. His work comes to the attention of wealthy industrialist Harrison Lee Van Buren (Guy Pearce) and is later commissioned to design an elaborate community center.

Yet the above plot synopsis is superficial and tells little about the film. Laszlo struggles with many things, poverty, his ego, and drug addiction. Life in America is harsh; he deals with many insults and humiliations. He struggles to articulate his artistic visions, resulting in several clashes with his patrons. Van Buren appears to genuinely admire the genius of Laszlo, yet at the same time treats him like a court jester who amuses him. Meanwhile Harrison's spoiled son Harry is another nefarious presence.

The backbone of the story surrounds the struggle to create the community center. Laszlo imagines a modernist structure that will foster community. Inevitably, conflicts develop from all sides. Financial concerns and Harrison's suspect business practices raise red flags, while the return of Lasalo's wife Erzsebet (Felicity Jones) and niece Zsofia (Raffey Cassidy) further complicate things, as they are also recovering from the horrors they experienced in Europe. Frustrations drive Laszlo both further away and paradoxically ever closer to finishing the project. 

Jewish identity in post-war America is another major theme. When Laszlo arrives in America the Statue of Liberty is framed upside down, a possible allusion to The Godfather Part II. His cousin Attila has fully assimilated into American life and married to a Catholic woman. Their culture clash leads to a breach in their relationship. Events in Israel are frequently referenced, and his niece wants the family to emigrate. Their dealings with the Harrison family inflame tensions further, and lead to questions on whether Jews are truly welcome in post-war America. 

The Brutalist tells a complex tale in its journey through midcentury America, one full of allusions and doubts, but neither is heroism absent. Brody's performance is both committed and impressive, as are the rest of the cast. The film's rigid anti-nostalgic stance is refreshing, even haunting at times. The score by Daniel Blumberg is both foreboding and majestic. With its overarching themes, many have criticized the film for not living up to the ambition of its ideas, possibly, but there's so much to admire - it's a film that demands reflection. 

****

Wolf Man (2025)

Wolf Man tells a modern werewolf story by focusing on trauma and family dynamics. Not a failure by any means, it's never boring, but never fully delivers either. 

The prologue recalls a childhood memory with protagonist Blake (Christopher Abbott) being taught to hunt by his stentorian father. Now in the present, Blake is a husband and father to Charlotte (Julia Garner) and Ginger (Matilda Firth), while navigating being "in between jobs." Feeling that their marriage is failing, the family decides to return to Blake's childhood home in Oregon after the death of his estranged father. Once they arrive, things quickly take a horrific turn.

The first section does a great job of establishing characters and potential conflicts but then takes an erratic leap. Neither a gorefest nor a study in terror, Wolf Man is at its best on the psychological level, making the story more tragic than frightening. The horror of transformation also becomes a part of the story, something unique to mainstream werewolf movies

As Leigh Whannel's follow up to his well-received Invisible Man from 2020, Wolf Man feels a bit slight in comparison, but it still manages some fresh takes on an old genre. The music score by Benjamin Wallfisch is effective, while the sound design was creative and unnerving. 

***