Uneven as hell but not unlikable, The Brutalist seems to get lost in its own complexity. The first hours is hauntingly well executed and absolutely draws the viewer into the film’s gritty vision of the late 40s. Somewhere in the second hour, and certainly by the third that initial burst of genius has worn off and the film is in a much more muddled place.

There is a lot of really interesting stuff here: about Judaism, about family, about drug addiction and about sexual violence and pleasure. However, I’m not sure I felt like any of these themes found resonant resting places in the film. An abrupt end to the third act and a confused epilogue don’t seem to do any us any favors.

Laszlo’s character was born in 1911, the same year as Ronald Reagan who was still president when the epilogue takes place!