A Hungarian-Jewish architect (Adrien Brody) emigrates to Philadelphia in 1947, where he is hired by a wealthy industrialist (Guy Pearce) to design the city’s greatest landmark since the Liberty Bell and spreadable cheese.

Not so much rags to riches as Reich to rags, László Tóth’s story is as harsh and stark as the concrete exteriors of his brutalist buildings. But while the 3.5-hour movie appears monolithic at a distance, closer inspection reveals humanity and nuance, excavating the immigrant experience in subtle shades of sepia and gold.

Very much a film of two halves (marked by an actual intermission integrated into the picture), the first presents America as the land of opportunity, and the second as a nation built on abuse, bigotry and exploitation. Tóth’s uncompromising artistic vision is confronted by a society that forces outsiders to compromise, that sees tolerance as currency to be exchanged for subservience and labour.

The riveting result recalls the works of Paul Thomas Anderson, such as There Will be Blood and The Master, which bring disturbing psychological depths to their quasi-historical characters. Brody is captivating as the traumatised Holocaust survivor, with a drug addiction rooted in socioeconomic causes, while Pearce brilliantly plays a man obsessed with building himself up by tearing vulnerable people down.

The Brutalist is meticulously constructed and strikingly shot, using almost mystical locations and strange sound design to shake the earthly foundations of the drama. Director Brady Corbet leaves the audience to put the pieces together themselves, and while the architectural epic may not be easy to digest, its cinematic depth won’t leave anyone Hungary.