Spanning decades, the film tells the story of László Toth (Adrian Brody), a Hungarian Jewish architect who escapes a concentration camp and flees to America. After reconnecting with family in Pennsylvania, and awaiting news of his wife’s relocation, he meets the wealthy industrialist Harrison Lee Van Buren (Guy Pearce), who employs him for a massive project. In just two films, The Childhood of a Leader and Vox Lux, Brady Corbet established himself as a unique filmmaker. He’s also an auteur to a fault, and those movies, while certainly conveying a vision, left me underwhelmed. So I didn’t have high hopes for this movie, especially one of that length. Yet here I am, 4 hours later, as the elements of Corbet’s filmography have finally come together in a way that, for the most part, works.

The Brutalist has some of the best filmmaking of the year. The cinematography is stunning, which is fitting for a movie about art. It alternates between wide vistas and gorgeous landscapes, and more intimate closeup and handheld photography (which is notable for a film shot for such a grand format). The score is similarly incredible. Corbet’s last two movies were scored by Scott Walker, who has since unfortunately passed, but the composer for this movie, Daniel Blumberg, has proven himself more than up to the task of filling Walker’s shoes. Corbet supposedly made this movie on a small budget (reportedly under $10 million), and you wouldn’t know it from what you’re seeing onscreen.

Adrian Brody does a great job as Toth. Without giving too much away, he has a notable transformation as the film goes on, and it’s handled very well. He conveys both the resilience and the pain of being an outsider in America. (Brody said during the Q&A that he channeled his own parents’ experiences as both refugees and artists in the role.) The rest of the cast does a great job too. However, the real standout is Guy Pearce as Van Buren, easily one of the best supporting performances of this year. Playing a titan of industry, Pearce is charismatic yet intimidating, giving a grand portrayal that contains all of the worst impulses of those in power.

This is an epic, and what would a film like this be without some truly big ideas? I went into this expecting a sweeping look at the immigrant experience, and for the most part, that’s exactly what I got. Throughout the film, there’s a palpable sense of otherness for Brody’s Toth. Not just being a Hungarian in America, but a Jew in a predominately Christian country. The film’s portrayal of identity is powerful. Toth and his ideas aren’t just foreign to the elite he engages with, but objects of fascination that they, especially Van Buren, seek to exploit. The movie is also a portrait of industry in Pennsylvania and America at the time, supplemented by era-appropriate footage of educational films. It’s a very long film, but I did think the runtime was used well.

However, I did have some issues near the end of the film. The central themes and metaphors come to a head with a brutal moment that, without spoiling anything felt a bit too on the nose, and I wasn’t sure how to feel about it. I also thought that they could’ve done a better job sticking the landing. I plan on seeing this movie again when it comes out, and maybe I’ll have a different opinion of it. There’s a lot here, after all. A towering and deeply personal achievement, The Brutalist deserves to be seen on the big screen in a huge theater. While I didn’t think this was the best movie of the year, it is absolutely the biggest surprise of the year for me, and I’m definitely excited to see what Corbet does next. The movie comes out in theaters on December 20th.

Sing Sing is the kind of movie one expects to be brutal going in. I did at times, and to an extent, it is. It’s also a film that aims to upend expectations. There’s no violence and the roughest thing about it is the language. Yet it is brutal, in the most raw and personal ways possible. It is also a beautiful and often hilarious film that might even leave you looking at the world in a different way. Sing Sing is a movie set in a maximum security prison, but it is not a prison drama. There are inmates, but it is not a movie about criminals. Sing Sing is a movie about art, its power, and its joy.

The film is based on the true story of John “Divine G” Whitfield (Colman Domingo), an inmate at Sing Sing who started a theater program to help other inmates process their emotions. After the group accepts their latest member, Clarence “Divine Eye” Maclin, he suggests they do a comedy instead of another drama (as prison life has enough drama as it is). The actual play they end up writing is so hilariously insane that I honestly don’t want to reveal it here. Even as the troupe prepares to make the audience laugh and spirits are high, Divine G is hoping to get out. He’s trying to prove his innocence, and may have actually found a way to do so.

Shot on grainy, dusty 16mm film with often handheld cameras, and with incredibly naturalistic performances, the movie often comes across as an uncovered documentary on the theater program itself. This also extends to the casting. Despite the presence of professional actors in the cast, such as Domingo and Paul Raci, the bulk of the inmates in the film are actually playing themselves from when they were incarcerated. This includes Divine Eye, who stands out with a revelatory performance that I feel a more established actor just couldn’t give. Not only does he convey an authentic sense of pain about prison life, but he’s also extremely funny. That said, one of the best things about this movie is Colman Domingo, who gives a performance that is both endearing and heartwrenching, though mainly for reasons I’d rather not spoil and leave you to discover on your own.

As mentioned, this film subverts a lot of expectations, from gut-punch moments to seemingly easy drama that, in a more conventional prison movie would be obvious, but doesn’t end up happening. It shouldn’t happen, either, because that’s not the point. Rather than enforce the cinematic status quo or even be regressive with its subject matter, it aims to present a way forward. It’s a point made clear early in the film itself, when Divine G confronts Divine Eye about the fact he has a knife hidden on him. To Divine G, this program is all these inmates have and it doesn’t take much to tear it all down. It’s a film that reminds us that, despite where they are, these are still people. In fact, most of them are real people, and real people can change for the better.

I thought I would enjoy Sing Sing, but this actually exceeded my expectations. It’s an incredible work of filmmaking and one of the best movies I’ve seen in recent memory. It’s both incredibly funny and incredibly sad, while touching upon a topic that I feel should get more attention. It’s a testament to the healing power of art that also confronts how we view those who society has seemingly thrown away. I wouldn’t be surprised if this becomes a sleeper awards contender, and if it does, it absolutely deserves it.