The Brutalist (2024): Fool’s Gold?

Surprisingly, since 1945 until this year, only 82 American-produced Holocaust features have been made.  Almost unbelievably, 22 of those films were nominated for at least one Oscar.  In fact, because some were ineligible – having only been screened at festivals, but never finding distribution – roughly 30% of all eligible American-produced Holocaust films have garnered 114 Oscar nominations.  That boat load has increased in 2025 with two nominations for A Real Pain (2024) and ten more for The Brutalist (2024).  This year’s Oscars is literally an embarrassment of riches, especially regarding the latter’s 10 nominations.

The Brutalist is a Holocaust survivor-genre film starring Adrien Brody, whose breakthrough film 23 years ago in Roman Polanski’s superb The Pianist (2002) won both men Oscars.  Brody is no less captivating here than he was as a Holocaust victim in Warsaw, learning Polish for that part.  This time, in The Brutalist Brody plays a Hungarian-speaking American immigrant named “László Tóth,” a celebrated European architect who should have been an easy fit in post-War America.

The Brutalist’s title is a not-so-subtle double entendre reflecting: 1) the lives of survivors and; 2) the incredibly ugly architectural style of the 1950s,  featuring  monochrome exposed concrete without curves, the specialty of protagonist László Tóth.  And the survivor’s name is a bit of an inside joke, too.  In 1992 Comedian Don Novello (SNL’s “Father Guido Sarducci” and brother of former United States Surgeon General Antonia Novello) published a book of fishy letters to and from celebrities and politicians under the same pseudonym “László Tóth” called The Lazlo Letters.  Also cheeky in The Brutalist was the brief chase of a Porsche being followed by two survivors and the use of Richard Wagner’s music in a climactic sequence, both German exports verboten by post-Holocaust Jews.

The Brutalist’s soundtrack is splendid, teasing at a key moment the first four notes of Gershwin’s climax in “Rhapsody In Blue.”  The audio mixing is also spectacular as is the cinematography.  And the erotic content is utter perfection.  The synagogue scenes, too, are magnificent.

But there are grumblings afoot in Hollywood that Brody’s Hungarian dialogue was punched up in post-production by “AI” (glorified ADR – Automatic Dialogue Replacement) and that such a revelation should be meaningful in the Oscar discussions, as if looping has not been used in every major film since The Jazz Singer in 1927.  Those objecting have seized on an idiotic demerit, and it will not diminish by even one iota the film’s many memorable performances.  Indeed, perhaps deservedly relative to this year’s weak competition, The Brutalist may surpass Schindler’s List (1993), which won seven Oscars, or break the all-time Oscar record for Holocaust films, currently held by Bob Fosse’s near-perfect Cabaret (1972), which won eight trophies.

However, although 70% of world Jewry has dark eyes, one might have left The Brutalist believing that all of us have green or blue eyes.  The titles, too, which were supposed to have been evocative of architectural drafting, were a distracting failure.  The filmmakers also indulged in far too much homoeroticism, blowing us way off course.  And The Brutalist needlessly adds pain through addiction, when many smarter choices were available to arrive at the same point.  Further, the film had a propagandistic theme that dovetailed perfectly with its very pro-Zionist message: America does not want Jews, so move to Israel.  While that is heartwarming as a Jewish Israeli, it was also heavy-handed; the implicit post-Holocaust goal of overcoming oppression would have sufficed.

The Brutalist’s biggest questions are left unanswered.  Why didn’t a world-class architect pursue architecture from the jump?  Why was the niece mute until she wasn’t at the end?  How could the wife suddenly use a walker after three film-hours in a wheelchair and a near-death experience?  Why did Tóth’s employer need to travel with him to Italy?  Each of these and other issues about Tóth’s benefactors are frustrating, especially in a 3½ hour presentation where maybe they could have either sprinkled in a bit more exposition or dialed back the need for so much suspension of disbelief.

The fact that Toth stumbled around for years as a furniture salesman and coal digger was the first clue that this story, as opposed to The Pianist, was, in fact, fictional.  Indeed, of the 76 Holocaust survivor-genre features made worldwide since 1945, only a few – such as Woman in Gold (2015) and The Survivor (2021) – are true stories.  It is far easier to make movies about the pathologically damaged than about the vast majority of Holocaust survivors who, while scarred, went on to live otherwise normal, productive lives.  As director Ethan Coen said about his totally fictional (non-Holocaust) Fargo (1996), “You don’t have to have a true story to make a true story movie.”  Unfortunately, that is not true regarding serious Holocaust films in the 21^st century.

The Brutalist’s filmmakers also flew too high, overshooting their landing.  The film’s final message, the last words spoken in the film are: “no matter what the others try and sell you, it is the destination, not the journey [underlining in original script].”  Meaning what, exactly?  That the Oscar is more important than the film itself?  That the only part of life worth living is the success, not how you achieved it or who you loved and who loved you along the way?  The Brutalist’s facile conclusion not only makes no sense but is also contrary to Jewish teachings and to the experience of most survivors.

Although the climax involves a somewhat clever callback to Holocaust crumbs dropped throughout the film, it is also not enough to recommend The Brutalist in the pantheon of great Holocaust survivor-genre features, such as The Birch-Tree Meadow – La petite prairie aux bouleaux (2003), Phoenix (2014) and 1945 (2017).  The Brutalist is closer to the fictional, very poorly received Adam Resurrected (2008), where Jeff Goldblum’s Holocaust survivor character also struggles with both normative sexuality and professional goals.  And The Brutalist is not nearly as poignant as The Man in the Glass Booth (1975) or Enemies: A Love Story (1989).  Regardless of Oscars, aside from Holocaust film literacy, The Brutalist is not essential in the canon of Holocaust films, unless otherwise starved for topics at a shabbat table.

The first image of The Brutalist is the logo for A24 Films, the same company that produced last year’s disappointing Holocaust Oscar bait, The Zone of Interest (2023).  Let’s all hope that when Adrien Brody walks up for his second best-actor trophy at the 2025 Oscars or when anyone else from The Brutalist or A Real Pain collects any hardware, they do not make fools of themselves as did the director of The Zone of Interest, A24’s winner of last year’s Holocaust film Oscar sweepstakes.

Overall, as with The Zone of Interest, The Brutalist is an impeccably made movie, perfectly tuned to manipulate Oscar voters.  Yet, for posterity, both films still needed another draft from a script-doctor.  That being said, as opposed to The Zone of Interest, I can’t recommend that The Brutalist not be watched.  It is a flawed story in an otherwise beautiful film with a good heart, even if the film was entirely about the journey, not about the forgettable destination.