The Brutalist: A Fictional Story That Feels Too Real. Don’t make the mistake that I made. Here’s what happened – I was genuinely excited to watch The Brutalist. I even avoided the trailers because I was 100% caught up in the Oscar fanfare initial buzz. It seemed like a powerful, emotionally charged biographical drama about a real-life architect who overcame unimaginable adversity. I settled into my seat with friends in tow, ready to be inspired by the true story of László Tóth—a Hungarian-Jewish architect and Holocaust survivor who immigrated to the United States and left a lasting legacy in the world of architecture.
What I didn’t realize was that The Brutalist is a hyper-realistic, entirely fictional film. The film is expertly crafted to feel like a true story—complete with historically accurate settings, deeply human struggles, and a narrative arc that mimics the messy, unpredictable nature of real life. So convincing that I was certain there was an architectural wonder worth visiting in Doylestown – which I grew up near, and frequented regularly. But it’s not real. Not even a little bit.
And that realization changed my whole experience of the film.
A Story That Demands Belief
Directed by Brady Corbet and featuring a powerhouse performance by Adrien Brody as László Tóth, The Brutalist pulls you in immediately. The film opens with haunting post-war scenes in Europe, where László and his wife Erzsebét (played by Felicity Jones) struggle to rebuild their lives after surviving the Holocaust. Their journey to America is fraught with tension, and their dreams of architectural innovation are repeatedly dashed by societal prejudices and financial hardships.
The cinematography is stunning, capturing the austere beauty of brutalist architecture in contrast to the emotional warmth of the Tóths’ relationship. The script is meticulous, filled with nuanced dialogue that paints a vivid picture of post-war America and the challenges faced by immigrants trying to make their mark in a rapidly evolving society. It all feels so authentic. So much so that I didn’t question its validity for a second. I was entirely convinced that I was watching a dramatization of real events, similar to films like The Imitation Game or A Beautiful Mind.
The Disappointment of Fiction
It wasn’t until the credits rolled, and I feverishly began scanning the internet to find mention of Tóth, his life’s work, and this Pennsylvanian shibboleth to Brutalism. It was then that I discovered the truth: László Tóth never existed. There is no record of his architectural triumphs or struggles because they are entirely the creation of Corbet and his team. To say that I was floored would be an understatement. How could a film that felt so rooted in history turn out to be pure fiction? It was a testament to the filmmakers’ skill, but it also left me feeling a bit cheated.
Don’t get me wrong: I still think The Brutalist is an incredible film. But had I known upfront that it was a fictional story, I would have approached it differently. I would have focused more on its artistic merits and thematic explorations rather than trying to mentally fact-check its historical accuracy. Looking back, and retrofitting the experience of the film I see poignant stories to be learned from the film… ideas about the power and manipulation of patrons, the complications of trauma, healing and the arts, etc etc etc. But I had to first drop the autobiographical assumptions from my brain first!
Why the Truth Matters in Storytelling
There’s an inherent power in stories based on true events. They inspire us, challenge our perceptions, and remind us of the resilience of the human spirit. When a film presents itself as a true story—even if only implicitly—it carries a certain weight and responsibility.
The Brutalist blurs the line between fiction and reality so convincingly that it’s easy to assume it’s based on real events. And maybe that’s part of its genius. But I can’t help but wonder if it would have been even more impactful had it embraced its fictional nature more openly.
Imagine if the marketing materials had highlighted the fact that László Tóth is a symbolic figure rather than a historical one—a representation of countless immigrant architects who shaped the American landscape despite facing immense challenges. That framing would have set clearer expectations and allowed viewers like me to appreciate the film on its own terms.
The Performances That Ground the Fiction
Despite my initial disappointment, I can’t overlook the brilliance of the performances. Adrien Brody is mesmerizing as László, capturing both his creative genius and his vulnerability. Felicity Jones brings warmth and strength to the role of Erzsebét, making their relationship the emotional core of the film.
Guy Pearce (Dark City anyone?) also deserves a mention for his portrayal of Harrison Lee Van Buren, a wealthy industrialist who becomes both a mentor and a source of tension for László. Pearce brings a layered complexity to the character, making him more than just a stereotypical antagonist. The chemistry between the actors and the authenticity of their performances are what make the film feel so real. It’s a testament to their talent that I was completely convinced by the story they were telling.
Themes Worth Exploring
One of the strengths of The Brutalist is its exploration of themes that are as relevant today as they were in the post-war era. The film delves into the immigrant experience, the struggle to maintain artistic integrity in a commercial world, and the enduring power of love and resilience. These themes are universal and timeless, and they resonate deeply regardless of the film’s fictional status. In that sense, The Brutalist succeeds in telling a story that feels meaningful and important.
Lessons Learned as a Viewer
So what’s the takeaway here? For me, it’s a reminder to approach films with an open mind and not to assume that everything presented as historical is actually true. It’s also a testament to the power of storytelling—the fact that I was so invested in László’s journey speaks volumes about the filmmakers’ ability to craft a compelling narrative.
If you haven’t seen The Brutalist yet, I recommend going in with the knowledge that it’s a fictional story inspired by real historical contexts. That understanding will allow you to appreciate the film for what it is: a beautifully crafted exploration of identity, resilience, and the pursuit of artistic greatness.
Final Thoughts
The Brutalist may not be the true story I initially thought it was, but it’s still a remarkable film that deserves to be seen and discussed. Its ability to blur the line between fiction and reality is both its greatest strength and, for some viewers, its biggest challenge.
If you’re someone who loves films that make you think and feel deeply, The Brutalist is worth your time. Just go in knowing that it’s a work of fiction—and prepare to be swept away by its artistry and emotional depth. If you are looking for movies that are similar to The Brutalist, you’d do well to check out really anything from A24 first. The Humans comes to mind? Not 100% sure why. Or, Columbus is 100% on point from an architectural point of view, and it’s also great if you love dialog driven films.
