dromasca

'The Brutalist' (2024) is a very ambitious film. Brady Corbet is at his third feature film and, although he is relatively little known as a director, he has managed to co-write an original and complex script, attract a very well-made team of actors, but above all to create an original vision, which combines cinematography with the other art that is synthesis of all other arts - architecture. 'The Brutalist' has the format of a great American story on screen, with immigration and larger-than-life projects as only in America can be thought of and realized, with characters who seem chosen from Hollywood mythology. The cinematic methods used revive several forgotten technical and format aspects and bring them back to the screens in a timely and meaningful way. However, viewers will be surprised especially by the dark aspects of the story and of the characters. This apparent American success story hides the deep suffering of the characters who live it.

The main character of the film is an imaginary personality, but he is so well conceived that viewers who have not been warned will open their smartphones upon leaving the screening room (or during the intermission) to search for the name of the famous architect László Tóth. This fictional hero is actually the merging of several real personalities, including two illustrious architects, both Hungarian Jews by origin, with remarkable contributions to the history of 20th-century architecture. In the scene that opens the film, our hero emerges from a dark and crowded labyrinth (the hold of the ship on which he crossed the Atlantic) and the first thing he sees is the Statue of Liberty. But not vertical and majestic as we know it, but upside down, at an unnatural angle. From here begins a film about a variant of the American dream that does not unfold as in optimistic scenarios. A renowned architect, trained at the Bauhaus, László Tóth had been reduced to the status of a subhuman during the Holocaust, deported to camps, separated from his family. He survived with difficulty and it would be almost a decade before his wife Erzsébet, who had also been through the camps and whose health was ruined, could join him. Until then, he would go through the difficult years of the beginning of his journey, as an anonymous immigrant. Helped at first and then rejected by his family, Tóth would meet Harrison Van Buren, a tycoon who would discover his past and see in him an opportunity. It would be his chance and his curse. The meeting between European and American mentalities was not easy, neither socially, artistically nor humanly. Van Buren would pull him out of poverty, help him bring his family to America and commission him a monumental building. This will become a symbol of the relationships and conflicts between the two: dream, contribution to the community, professional ambition, perfectionism for one; social recognition, institutionalized faith, grandeur, crypt for the other. Between the immigrant and his benefactor, between the architect and his patron, between two men with different origins and destinies, a meeting takes place in which the sublime and the abject, the lights and the darkness of human souls come together.

I am very curious to know the opinion of my architect friends about this film. To me, it also seemed to be an ode dedicated to their wonderful profession, the passion, the obsessive dedication and the perfectionism of great artists. The film itself is not only full of details related to the architectural profession (which I cannot judge how authentic they are) but is also architecturally conceived as a structure, with a classical symmetry translated into cinematic sections: overture, two main parts, an epilogue. Director Brady Corbet brings back from the history of cinema, forgotten or perhaps even unknown to young viewers, two elements that have been little used in recent decades: the intermission in the middle of the screening (so useful at a duration of 3 and a half hours) and the VistaVision filming, a wide screen process dating from the 50s in which most of the story takes place, very suitable for a world seen through the eyes of architects. Adrien Brody creates one of the great roles of his career. His László Tóth brings to the screen the dilemmas of great artists working in the service of their benefactors, the drama of Holocaust survivors and the impossibility of adapting to the conditions of a society that does not always easily accept differences and exceptions. Felicity Jones in the role of the architect's wife seemed slightly miscast to me at first (too young in physiognomy) but then her role gained in intensity, reminding me of the character of Felicia Montealegro Bernstein in 'Maestro'. Only Guy Pearce, who plays Van Buren, fails, in my opinion, to peer the intensity and complexity of Brody's performance. This is, however, a minor minus of a film that proposes a monumental cinematic vision and vibrant acting. I will be disappointed if 'The Brutalist' does not receive the Best Picture Academy Award.

Alan J. Pakula is one of the American filmmakers who intrigues me. Although he is half a generation older, he debuted as a director around the same time as Spielberg or Scorsese, but he did not keep up with them. He was a producer, director and screenwriter, and in each of these fields he had peak moments among banal or even bad films. His filmography as a director includes only 16 films which are uneven in value. Of them, 'All the President's Men' (1976) is certainly a peak. 'Comes a Horseman' is the film that followed, two years later, in 1978 and Pakula's only attempt at the western genre. I had not had the opportunity to see it before and I was very curious. The differences are visible and disappointing.

The story takes place in the state of Colorado, in the mid-1940s, towards the end of World War II. The soldiers return from the front, the lucky ones trying to resume their lives, others in coffins. The scene that opens the film is a funeral - that of the son of a big farmer named Ewing who controls almost the entire area between the mountains where the story takes place. The only person who opposes him is Ella, the heiress of a smaller farm. There was an old conflict between her father and Ewing, and Ella's attempt to continue raising cattle herds on the inherited land stands in the way of the tycoon's dominance. The banks and oil companies that begin prospecting in the area are also interested and involved in this conflict. The appearance of Frank, a discharged soldier who had bought a small plot of land from Ella will complicate the story.

The film has only a few characters, and therefore there is enough time for their development. The historical period would be America after the war and at the beginning of the economic boom, but almost none of those have any role. The narative structure is that of a classic western, and the story could very well have taken place 40 or 80 years earlier, if we ignore the cars or small planes that occasionally show up in the setting. The law of the strongest dominates and the heroes ultimately resolve their conflicts in a violent style. Everything is somewhat predictable, including the inevitable romantic story. James Caan, Jane Fonda and Jason Robards were good actors and their performances are more than decent, but that's about it. The most interesting scenes in the film seemed to me to be the ones in which the cowboys chase and capture wild cattle - spectacular and well-framed in the surrounding nature. Were these the main reason why Alan J. Pakula made this film? Or maybe he wanted to make his point in a period in the history of American cinema when there was talk of the 'death of the western'? In my opinion, 'Comes a Horseman' is lacking passion and inspiration. It's not the worse film in the director's career, but it's also far from being among the best or most interesting.

Cinema has already dealt with the popes, their lives and deaths, including the process of electing the new sovereign pontiffs by convening the Conclave. There have been feature films and television series, dramas and comedies, historical or current affairs films with real or fictional popes. 'Conclave' (2024) adds to the collection a political thriller that has all the makings of a success: an excellent cast, a director - Edward Berger - who has in his filmography several solid successes both on television ('Deutschland 83') and on the big screen ('All Quiet on the Western Front' - a rare remake of quality) and a script based on a novel by Robert Harris, whose books were the sources of several good movies. My expectations were therefore high, my cinematic experience not quite up to par. I found in 'Conclave' pretty much everything I expected minus a touch of originality that would take it out of the comfort zone of the predictable.

The starting point of the story is the death of a pope. His orientation had been liberal, in the Catholic context of this term. The assembly of cardinal electors is convened and they will debate and vote on who will be the new pope, in conditions of seclusion, 'until white smoke comes out'. The responsibility of procedural leadership falls to Cardinal Lawrence, the former pope's trusted man. Ideological currents are confronted, personalities are confronted and people who each have something to hide in their past are confronted. They are all men, but women will also play an important role in the events that are triggered. For a good part of the time we are dealing with a political drama in which the elections in the Conclave do not seem very different from those we know from secular politics. The surprises and twists of the situation will appear in the end.

'Conclave' has two very strong points. Stéphane Fontaine's cinematography creates an immersive experience by introducing us to the corridors and dark chambers of the Vatican and the famous Sistine Chapel (recreated in the Cinecittà studios) where the Conclave meets, plus some spectacular angles and shots. Casting and performances are formidable. Ralph Fiennes creates one of the greatest roles of this part of his career, bringing to the screen the thoughts and feelings of a high prelate who lives the responsibility of the moment while struggling with his own doubts about the corruption of the institution he serves. He is my favorite at the Academy Awards. Two of the supporting roles of the cardinals in the Conclave are entrusted to Stanley Tucci and John Lithgow, formidable actors but very far, apparently, from this type of roles. Well, they manage to induce personality and color to each of the characters they play. I can't be upset by the presence of Isabella Rossellini, an actress I love. She deserves an Academy Award, but maybe not for the role in this film. When screening ended I felt that I was still left - as the saying goes - with a half-empty bag next to the praised tree. I think the fault lies mainly with the script, which seemed predictable even in the parts where it intended to be unpredictable. The institutional crisis of the Catholic Church and the confrontation with the complex realities of today's world are profound and require a more intense approach and a sharper introspection than that provided by this good political thriller.