Beyond the natural ambitions of a grand film, Brady Corbet’s The Brutalist raised high expectations among the architectural world and a growing audience passionate about design. The promise lay, first and foremost, in finally having an interesting architect as the main character – played by an Adrien Brody seemingly perfect for the role, as an individual of substance and depth, not a prisoner of the drawing board trapped in an impenetrable professional jargon (which is often the case in reality). Then, the entire story was meant to depict the architect’s struggle and the personal cost of the compromises he is forced to make in his heroic effort to practice architecture as an art form despite life’s adversities – an everyday, unspectacular, and frustrating reality many architects face. On top of that, of course, there was the promise of breathtaking set designs unfolding before our eyes over 215 minutes, reminding us of a time when “the hard core of beauty” had not yet been swallowed by capitalist commodification, and architects dreamed not only of rebuilding cities destroyed by World War II bombings but also of engineering their social fabric. But in The Brutalist, the architectural movement serves more as a pretext for Corbet to indulge in a series of references he enjoys – like an enthusiastic architecture student..

Ilinca Pop

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A absolvit arhitectura la UAUIM și are un doctorat în istoria și teoria arhitecturii, iar din 2019 e asistentă colaboratoare a catedrei Istoria & Teoria Arhitecturii și Conservarea patrimoniului a UAUIM. A mai scris în PLAT, sITA, COTAA și Scena 9, iar din 2020 e redactor colaborator Zeppelin. Dintotdeauna și-a dorit mai degrabă să scrie despre case decât să le proiecteze.

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