Interview: ‘The Brutalist’ Director Brady Corbet on Examining the American Myth, Generational Power, and Using a Purposeful Intermission

“Brady is an exceptional talent and definitely someone to watch, no question.”

Right at the start of his interview with AwardsWatch back in December 2024, Academy Award nominee Guy Pearce mentioned what we have all been thinking this season when discussing The Brutalist, that this monumental film could’ve only come from someone as expertly talented as writer-director Brady Corbet. In just his third directorial feature film, he has given us “the cinematic event of the year,” and something that ranks as one of the best American epics of the millennium. In doing so, he has crafted a grand yet personally intimate study of the American dream through the eyes of László Tóth (Adrien Brody), a Hungarian-Jewish architect who immigrated to the United States after surviving the Holocaust. In trying to make a better life for himself, Toth becomes connected with a wealthy industrialist, Harrison Lee Van Buren (Pearce), and is commissioned to build a massive community center in Doylestown, Pennsylvania in late 1940s. In telling this vast story, Corbet has given us his biggest, boldest, richest, best work to date, with The Brutalist being one of the best films of the year.

Born in Scottsdale, Arizona, Corbet was raised by a single mother, for whom he has regarded as his hero and constant inspiration over his career as she championed him to get into and be around the arts at an early age. By the time he was eleven years old, Corbet became an actor, guest starring on a few television shows before transitioning into roles in films like Thirteen, Thunderbirds, Mysterious Skin, Funny Games, Marth Marcy May Marlene, Melancholia, Clouds of Sils Maria, Force Majeure, and various other films over the course of a decade plus run. During this time, Corbet was not only acting, but collecting experiences and information from each of these film’s directors to use as influence for what he is doing today, as he has mostly retired from acting to focus on making his own films. His directorial debut, The Childhood of a Leader, starring Robert Pattinson, premiered in 2015, followed three years later with his second film with Vox Lux, starring Natalie Portman and Jude Law. Both films challenged audiences in a way that very few independent films can, and with The Brutalist, he has elevated his craft from those first two features to create something grand that we rarely get to see anymore. In becoming one of the most celebrated films of the year, The Brutalist has deservedly been nominated for ten Academy Awards including three for Corbet, Best Director, Best Original Screenplay (alongside his partner Mona Fastvold), and Best Picture, as one of the film’s producers. In her review for the film out of the 2024 New York Film Festival, our own Sophia Ciminello called The Brutalist “transcendent,” and said that the film “has the potential to define an epoch,” making it one of the best films of the decade so far; a sentiment I agree with as well.

In my recent conversation with Corbet, we discussed his film’s portrayal of the immigrant experience, the complex devotion to religion and art found in the film, the examination of the American myth and generational trauma, and working with his lead actor, Adrien Brody, on creating one of the most layered performances we’ve seen in some time. But before we got into those topics, our chat began with talking about a component of his film that has been lost in cinema for a while now; the glorious, purposeful intermission that separates the two sections of The Brutalist. Over the course of talking with him, I couldn’t help but think of that quote from Pearce above, because as you’re sitting with him, talking about this epic achievement he has concocted together with limited resources over the course of nearly of decade, you can tell he is just too talented, determined and articulate to let a project like this slip through his fingers like most directors have throughout their career. If he continues to make personal, meaningful, detailed work like this with his next project, you won’t have to “look” out for him, we’ll know him as one of the great directors working today. That is the promise a film like The Brutalist presents, and it was clear by the end of my conversation with him, we are seeing the birth of a new, definitive American auteur.

Ryan McQuade: I wanted to ask you upfront about something that I don’t think a lot of people have asked you about. They’ve asked you about the way this movie is shot on the VistaVision but not about the other thing that makes this a uniquely special film, the intermission. Were there important films or viewing experiences involving an intermission that made you fall in love with that form of epic storytelling, and inspired to use it here? How long into the process of creating The Brutalist did you know wanted to use an intermission to tell these two distinct yet linked sections of the film?

Brady Corbet: It was always written into the screenplay. I think that it’s partially, of course, because it’s a film that is set in the 1950s, it is a 1950s melodrama in its own right. I think that it was never not there. I remember intermissions from lots of films. I mean, everything from Lawrence of Arabia, to the Sound of Music, to 2001 A Space Odyssey. I think it’s something that I also remember growing up and seeing movies in Italy especially, there’s certain countries where there was sort of always an intermission, whether the filmmaker intended for there to be one or not. I sort of loved it.

I remember that, it’s funny because it’s not a very long film, but I saw an Alexander Sokurov movie called Moloch in Italy that I remember had an intermission that I think Sokurov did not intend for at all. I remember being sort of bewildered in the middle of the movie. I was quite young and turning to my mother and I was like, “Is the movie over?” She said, “Oh no, no, no. It’s just halfway through.”

It’s funny that it’s become something which is so novel. I think especially in the age of streaming, actually, it seems like it should come back. I mean, if a film’s of a certain length, if it’s two hours, that’s fine. But I mean, I even need to get up if a film is two hours and forty minutes long. I just really do. I think most people do. So I mean, there’s nothing worse than sitting in a movie theater, especially because I’m constantly in situations where I’m at a premiere and the filmmaking team is there and you want to be respectful and you just have to use the restroom. So then you spend the last hour and a half not thinking about what you’re watching, you’re just kind of waiting for it to be over.

So for me, it was sort of a self-evident truth that when I got to page 170 of the screenplay that the film should be divided. I mean, the film was always divided into two parts. But it was very clear that it would be best for the film to have this sort of break. We tried different lengths of the intermission. We tried five minutes, ten minutes, and finally we landed on fifteen minutes because everyone that had come to the versions of the movie where the intermission was shorter, we ended up having to pause the film in rough cut screenings because no one was back yet. Actually, in bigger rooms, 15 minutes is barely enough.

RM: No, I saw it at the Vista in LA and it was like a twenty to twenty-five-minute wait because people were, the lines are long at the bathroom people. They’re giving the audience a chance also to breathe with the film. At the Vista, you can walk outside just for a minute and really take in what you just watched before getting into the second act.

BC: Yeah, of course. I mean, it serves dramatic purposes and functional ones. But it was always there. It was always scripted. I mean, of course, for some reason a lot of people that purported to have read the screenplay were very surprised when the film had intermission. But that was really on them. That was not on us.

RM: At the core of The Brutalist, it’s an immigrant story told through not just László’s perspective, but also through Zsófia’s perspective. It’s also a movie about breaking the American myth, right from the get-go, with the score, or your shot of the Statue of Liberty, or the idea of something grand waiting for you here but that might end up being a lie. Could you talk about breaking down that myth? In a lot of ways, it feels like a cautionary tale that you’re telling here with what these characters are experiencing.

BC: Yeah, I mean, for me, not that there’s any right or wrong way to interpret it. I wouldn’t personally call it a cautionary tale. For me, it’s just the data. This country functions for one percent of the people that live here. Full stop. So obviously anything that is not representing that is getting it wrong. So the thing is… traditionally, even with iconic gangster movies and stuff, they still are ultimately to some extent about succeeding. For me, it was very important that the character doesn’t even finish the project. It’s never even done.

So I think that it’s like you hear after the fact that it was completed at some point later on, which kind of tracks with my personal creative experience. Usually when you unveil something, that sort of ta-dah moment, it never really happens. I mean, with this film it’s been obviously received mostly quite rapturously, and that’s given the film a big boost in terms of its presence and its commercial viability, which is just good. I mean, even for people that don’t connect with the movie, it is a very, very good thing for the film industry that this movie has performed, both domestically and internationally, because it just sort of sends a big loud signal to the powers that be that films can work commercially that don’t fit inside of the box that the algorithm tells you it should.

RM: You’ve spoken about the film having a meta component to it because it’s about an artist. I know that as a director, you put your own struggles in there for László’s journey, as well Mona’s experiences. So I felt that a lot in the train explosion sequences and the setbacks a project can have. I even felt that within the religious component of László’s life. How religion is much like art in terms of devotion, preservation, a way to archive history.

For you, was that in your mind when tying together these themes alongside László’s dedication to his faith and completing the project? For yourself, how was the process of then making this film personal to you? Did you feel doubt setting in when trying to get the film to the finish line?

BC: Yeah, that’s one of the most interesting questions, I have to say, that I’ve been asked about the movie. I actually really mean that because, obviously, the film is very much about the way in which the powers that be in this community, that the project must be sort of imbued with Christian values in order for it to exist. I think that’s something that everyone is interested in. I’m constantly asked, what is the moral of your story? I’m like, “Well, there is not one.” That’s not the way I make movies. I don’t make didactic movies and I don’t make propaganda films.

So I find it to be, this morality to be quite fraudulent in general. I think that it comes in many forms. It doesn’t just come from the church. It actually comes very much from the studio system as well if we want to make sure that this has a moral tale. I just find that really reductive. I think that cinema and art in general is supposed to be a safe space to explore really progressive ideas.

One thing I find very interesting about Hollywood is that it’s politically very liberal, but it’s creatively quite conservative. That’s something I’d really like to see change. I understand why that is the case. It’s mostly because people are afraid they’re going to lose their job. So if you’re an executive and you green light a project and then it performs poorly, your job’s on the line. So if they have door number one and door number two to choose from in terms of what projects they’re going to allocate a portion of their annual budget to, they’re generally going with not necessarily the most interesting project, but the most likely to succeed.

But what’s funny about that is that by playing it safe, it has the sort of reverse effect, which is that if a cinematic experience looks too familiar to viewers, they’re not showing up for it. So it’s sort of like in order to escape this kind of ouroboros of bullshit, which really can only lead to the death of culture as we know it, is to take big swings and take big risks. Because actually, and whether people love or hate the films, the crop of films that are in the awards conversation this year, many of them are pretty radical movies. They’re pretty strange, strange films. They’re predominantly lower budget films as well.

Even Denis’ (Villeneuve) films, I mean, Dune (Part Two) is such a radical movie. I think all of Denis’ movies are radical and visionary, and Denis is a radical visionary. But I just think it’s worth noting that the pacing of Dune and Dune Part II is quite bold. It’s quite audacious. So I feel like audiences are really sending a message pretty loud and clear about what it is they’re yearning for, what they want to see. They want to see daring, bold, provocative work. I mean, straight up.

RM: Yeah I agree. I think if audiences want to go and sit in a theater for three hours and watch a movie about how the atomic bomb got made (Oppenheimer), like last year, or Dune, then they will want to sit and experience your film.

BC: No, I totally agree with you. I mean, obviously it scales accordingly, and Chris (Nolan) is his own brand and that’s still, a billion dollars? That’s pretty exciting. I mean, it really is for a movie that’s about what it’s about.

RM: The movie also is about power and how, you mentioned the 1% earlier, how they wield that power. That’s obviously through Harrison Van Buren, who by the end of the film, is this figure that has done these bad, malicious acts. When he vanishes, generationally, we have to deal with the aftermath of those actions.

Can you talk about showcasing this generational abuse of power? It feels very relevant to obviously what is going on culturally and politically to our country. But like you said, it’s within the fabric of America. It’s not shocking, but we know it’s there.

BC: Yeah. No, I think you’re absolutely right. I mean, listen, I think that the film owes a debt to 1950s melodramas. I was constantly thinking about what would Michael Powell do with the same material? Mostly because I wanted to be guided by a logic of not only the format we were shooting on, but the era that the film takes place in.

So the character is an antagonist that you might find in a film from that era. It’s very much in step with the James Mason or a Joseph Cotton performance. But of course, it’s imbued with a lot of contemporary nuances. It always would be because it’s made now and wasn’t made then, could have never gotten away with this movie then.

Which is something I have to think about. How is it that one can at least attempt to carry the torch a little further for a bygone generation? I’m not interested in simple homage or pastiche. That’s not my area either. But I am always thinking about the generations that have come prior. Of course, all of my films are about power and power dynamics, and how they’re decentralized, and how they can be usurped. Yeah, I mean, it’s an obsession of mine, I would imagine, because I am an American and power is very, very important to Americans. I think we all think that.

What’s extraordinary is that there’s been no social experiment, certainly in a country as big as ours of course, that has worked better than capitalism has, and that’s quite unsettling. That’s all we’ve been left with. It’s sort of like now we have to just… it’s the devil you know. So I have a strong perspective, especially because, my partner is from Norway, and we have one foot inside of that other social experiment, which by the way is not perfect. But because the Utopian experiment functions so well is because oil is their number one export. So even under the hood of that car, you still find capitalism.

So we don’t think anywhere is perfect. But we do feel that we’ve reached an extreme of our cycle in this country or that it has reached an extreme of its cycle, and that capitalism feels more off the rails than ever. I mean, we see it in influencer culture, we see it everywhere we look. So I think that I do hope, of course, that things become a little bit more sensible down the line. But I have a feeling that it’s going to get a lot worse before it gets better.

RM: The highlight of this film, aside from Mona and your creative vision, is this towering performance at the core of The Brutalist from Adrien. This is such a personal project for all three of you. Could you talk about working with him on transforming László from the page, to the layered performance we see in the film?

BC: Yeah, absolutely. I think that we try to leave a lot of space on the page for an actor to bring themselves to the role. I mean, the dialogue is extremely specific. The physical actions are very specific in the scripts, and also the technique or the lens, or there’s notes throughout the screenplay about this is a sequence shot. This is covered in two angles, et cetera.

But I think that my initial concern was that every single time I see survivors portrayed in films, or not every time, but frequently, they’re portrayed as altruists. So it was very important to me that our character was not in any way, shape, or form altruistic, that the character was incredibly flawed, because I think that the suggestion that audiences can only empathize with a character that’s been through what this character has been through, if they’re perfect, it’s quite disturbing. So actually on the page, I would say that Laszlo read as sort of more of just a straight-up asshole. But the thing is, which was fine with us, we thought he was a compelling asshole, but he was kind of an asshole.

Then I met Adrien (Brody), and Adrien is just a beautiful, graceful empath. I was so touched by him. He was such a beautiful human being. I think that part of my job as a filmmaker is to not get in someone’s way. I would never try to suppress that because that is just who he is. It’s authentic to who he is. So what I think is amazing is that even though, of course, this is a very technical performance, and there’s an accent, and there’s so much dialogue, I think that Adrien brought so much of himself to this, that is what people are really falling in love with. I think they’re really falling in love with him.

I get that because I too fell in love with him. He’s a very, very beautiful person. I think that this entire cast, I got really lucky with really, really good people on this movie, like good human beings. But I don’t take it for granted because it’s not always like that.

RM: They are giving me the wrap. Thank you so much for your time Brady.

BC: It was very nice to talk to you. Hopefully we’ll have another chance soon. Thank you so much. Have a great day, pal.

The Brutalist is currently in theaters and IMAX from A24 nationwide.

• Author
• Recent Posts

Ryan McQuade

Ryan McQuade is the AwardsWatch Executive Editor and a film-obsessed writer in San Antonio, Texas. Raised on musicals, westerns, and James Bond, his taste in cinema is extremely versatile. He’s extremely fond of independent releases and director’s passion projects. Engrossed with all things Oscars, he hosts the AwardsWatch Podcast. He also is co-host of the Director Watch podcast. When he’s not watching movies, he’s rooting on all his favorite sports teams, including his beloved Texas Longhorns. You can follow him on Twitter at @ryanmcquade77.

Latest posts by Ryan McQuade (see all)

• SXSW 2025 Reviews: ‘Fantasy Life,’ ‘Slanted,’ ‘Uvalde Mom’ - March 15, 2025
• SXSW 2025 Reviews: ‘The Dutchman,’ ‘$POSITIONS,’ ‘We Bury the Dead’ - March 15, 2025
• Director Watch Podcast Ep. 89 – ‘Closer’ (Mike Nichols, 2004) - March 14, 2025