I watched The Brutalist last night, and have a lot of thoughts.
But for today, lets just go with this.
It’s fascinating to see the different ways art will draw you in.
The Brutalist starts with a frenetic scene of chaos and movement and everything happening at once, and immediately I’m invested in whatever emotional highs and lows are to follow, leaning forward in my seat, leaning into the rhythm and the desperation of movement.
Other movies start slow, setting the stage, full of establishing shots and slow events and a slow seduction until the film’s world is yours, the slow accumulation of time creating it, rather than the sudden burst of emotion.
Throughout, The Brutalist rocks between these two modes. It does a good job transforming from one to the other, and in each case, it excels.