It’s not woke, but it’s filled with another kind of propaganda.

The Brutalist tries to be deep and different, but it ends up being the same old thing: an overly long movie about a “tortured genius” fighting against the world without really questioning the system he’s trapped in. Brady Corbet throws in some flashy visuals to seem innovative, but the story—full of pretentious moments and stiff characters—barely scratches the surface of themes like masculinity, classism, and identity.
In the end, what seems like a reflection on art and oppression turns into a one-sided take where the protagonist finds refuge in Israel, without the film ever stopping to consider what that actually means. Instead of challenging the audience, The Brutalist settles into stale nostalgia and ends up feeling more like propaganda disguised as arthouse cinema. It’s not really woke—it flirts with progressive themes, but in a way that feels shallow and ultimately leans into a safe, traditional narrative. Worst of all, it fails to actually entertain, dragging on for three and a half hours without enough substance to justify its runtime.