We have to admit that, in a week like this one, writing about movies – or, even more so, movie awards – feels a little bit irrelevant.

Even so, the Blade would be remiss if we didn’t report that the nominations for the 16th Annual Dorian Awards have been announced by GALECA: The Society of LGBTQ Entertainment Critics, not just in the name of maintaining normalcy but as a reminder of the importance and influence of the “Q+ eye” within the arts and entertainment sphere. After all, we’ve been leading pop culture as tastemakers ever since there has been a pop culture. And while the Dorian voters’ choices don’t always line up exactly with those of the higher-profile mainstream awards bodies, they reflect a strong counter-cultural perspective that feels ahead of the curve when it comes to singling out underappreciated gems, seemingly predicting – or proclaiming – the trends and topics rising in the public consciousness before the film industry itself seems to catch on.

This year’s crop of nominees especially highlights this “maverick” insight, omitting many of the front-running choices in the annual awards season in favor of niche-y (but timely) “genre” films that are typically disregarded by organizations like the Golden Globes or the Oscars. Indeed, the Dorians’ two most-nominated titles – filmmaker Jane Jane Schoenbrun’s “I Saw the TV Glow” and Coralie Fargeat’s “The Substance” – are horror films, reflecting a growing critical appreciation for the genre among a rising younger generation of queer film commentators, as well as within the larger cinephile community itself.

The Dorian Awards — named after the title character in “The Picture of Dorian Gray,” written by queer literary and theater icon Oscar Wilde, in whose honor the awards are named — differ from other awards in that they divide the top film prizes into multiple categories, and further offer separate awards in several of those divisions for mainstream or LGBTQ movies. At the same time, the performance awards are not divided by gender; rather, the prizes are designated for lead and supporting performances, with actors of all genders competing together for a single prize in each category. In addition, there are a number of awards unique to the Dorians, such as Best Genre Film, Best Unsung Film, and Campiest Film.

Leading this year’s nominations with a total of nine is “I Saw the TV Glow,” a surreal, trans-themed horror allegory largely ignored by the other awards groups; with nominations for both Best Film and Best LGBTQ Film, plus nods for Schoenbrun’s direction and screenplay and the performances of stars Justice Smith and Brigette Lundy-Pain in the Lead and Supporting Performance categories, respectively. In addition, it’s a contender for the Dorians’ “Most Visually Striking” award, which celebrates the overall “look” of a film’s design.

Coming in second with eight nods, darkly satirical body-horror thriller “The Substance” competes as Best, Campiest, Genre, and Most Visually Striking film, with additional nominations including Best Performance (Demi Moore and Margaret Qualley, in Lead and Supporting categories, respectively) and nods for its direction and screenplay as well.

Somewhat surprisingly, acclaimed trans mobster musical “Emilia Pérez” was omitted from the Dorians’ Film of the Year category, despite being a front-running contender in other major awards races – though it still claimed six nominations, including LGBTQ Film, Non-English-Language Film, and LGBTQ Non-English Language Film, and Performance nods for breakout transgender star Karla Sofía Gascón and co-star Zoe Saldaña. Also with six nods is “Challengers,” Luca Guadagnino’s bisexual-themed tennis romance, which scored in both the Best Film and LGBTQ Film, among others; “The Brutalist,” director Brady Corbett’s epic saga of a Jewish Holocaust survivor’s rise to success as an architect in post-WWII America, grabbed five, including nods for Best and Most Visually Striking Film, Corbett’s direction, and Adrien Brody’s career-topping lead performance.

Other films with multiple nominations were “Challengers” (five), “Anora,” “Nickel Boys,” and “Wicked” (four each), and “Problemista” and “Queer” (three each). Guadagnino also helmed the latter, an adaptation of William S. Burroughs’ gritty novella about an aging American ex-pat in 1950s Mexico City filmmaker, which scored a Best Lead Performance nom for star Daniel Craig and made the list for both Best LGBTQ Film and LGBTQ Screenplay, but did not earn him a Best Director nomination – though he did make the cut for the “Challengers.”

Other noteworthy titles in GALECA’s awards lineup include the inventive faux-silent slapstick comedy “Hundreds of Beavers” (nominated both as Campiest and Best Unsung Film of the Year); “Sing Sing” (which earned nods for both its star, out queer actor Colman Domingo, and real-life convict turned movie star Clarence Maclin; Robert Eggers’ stylish reimagination of the silent classic “Nosferatu” (riding the pro-horror wave to compete in both Best Genre and Most Visually Striking Film categories); and trans-centric competitors “The People’s Joker,” “National Anthem” (both up for Unsung LGBTQ Film), and “Will & Harper” (Best Documentary and LGBTQ Documentary), all providing a timely counterpoint to the real-world transphobia currently being deployed as a political wedge in American politics.

Of course, alongside all these queer-themed contenders, there are still plenty of competitors also in the running for the remaining high-profile awards – such as “Wicked” and its leading players, “Conclave,” and the aforementioned “Anora” and “Sing Sing.” Any of these nominees could end up winners, too, which is part of what makes the Dorians a singular entity in the annual awards race.

In addition to revealing the Dorian nominees, GALECA also announced that it would donate $1,000 to The Los Angeles Press Club’s emergency relief fund, earmarked for entertainment journalists directly affected by the historically devastating wildfires that have destroyed vast swaths LA and left thousands of residents homeless.

In a statement, GALECA Executive Director John Griffiths said, “Entertainment journalists are an obviously integral part of the Hollywood ecosystem, and we want to make sure they aren’t forgotten in what’s already a very tough environment for those in our profession.” Vice President Diane Anderson-Minshall added, “We applaud our friends at the Press Club and its sister organization the National Arts & Entertainment Journalism Awards for coming to our brethren’s need.” 

Professional journalists whose main livelihood involves entertainment criticism, editing and/or reportage can apply for help at lapressclub.org. Additional donations may be made there as well.

The winners of the 16th Dorian Film Awards – which also include signature special awards for Rising Star, Timeless Star, Film Trailblazer, and the Wilde Artist Award – will be announced on February 13.

GALECA: THE SOCIETY OF LGBTQ ENTERTAINMENT CRITICS

16TH DORIAN FILM AWARDS LIST OF NOMINEES 

FILM OF THE YEAR

Anora (Neon)

Challengers  (Amazon MGM Studios)

I Saw the TV Glow (A24)

Nickel Boys (Orion Pictures/Amazon MGM Studios)

The Substance (Mubi)

LGBTQ FILM OF THE YEAR

Challengers (Amazon MGM Studios)

Emilia Peréz (Netflix)

I Saw the TV Glow (A24)

Love Lies Bleeding (A24)

Queer (A24)

DIRECTOR OF THE YEAR

Brady Corbet, The Brutalist (A24)

Coralie Fargeat, The Substance (Mubi)

Luca Guadagnino, Challengers (Amazon MGM Studios)

RaMell Ross, Nickel Boys (Orion Pictures/Amazon MGM Studios)

Jane Schoenbrun, I Saw the TV Glow (A24)

SCREENPLAY OF THE YEAR 

— Original or adapted

Anora (Neon)

Challengers (Amazon MGM Studios)

Conclave (Focus Features)

I Saw the TV Glow (A24)

The Substance (Mubi)

LGBTQ SCREENPLAY OF THE YEAR

Challengers (Amazon MGM Studios)

I Saw the TV Glow (A24)

Love Lies Bleeding (A24)

Problemista (A24)

Queer (A24)

NON-ENGLISH LANGUAGE FILM OF THE YEAR

All We Imagine as Light (Sideshow / Janus Films)

Emilia Peréz (Netflix)

Flow (Sideshow / Janus Films)

I’m Still Here (Sony Pictures Classics)

The Seed of the Sacred Fig (Neon)

LGBTQ NON-ENGLISH FILM OF THE YEAR

Crossing (Mubi)

Emilia Peréz (Netflix)

Queendom (Greenwich Entertainment)

Vermiglio (Sideshow / Janus Films)

All Shall Be Well (Strand Releasing) 

UNSUNG FILM OF THE YEAR

—To an exceptional movie worthy of greater attention

Didi (Focus Features)

Hundreds of Beavers (Cineverse, Vinegar Syndrome)

My Old Ass (Amazon MGM Studios)

Problemista (A24)

Thelma (Magnolia)

UNSUNG LGBTQ FILM OF THE YEAR

Femme (Utopia)

My Old Ass (Amazon MGM Studios)

National Anthem (Variance, LD Entertainment)

The People’s Joker (Altered Innocence)

Problemista (A24)

FILM PERFORMANCE OF THE YEAR

Adrien Brody, The Brutalist (A24)

Daniel Craig, Queer (A24)

Colman Domingo, Sing Sing (A24)

Karla Sofía Gascón, Emilia Peréz (Netflix) 

Cynthia Erivo, Wicked (Universal)

Marianne Jean-Baptiste, Hard Truths (Bleecker Street)

Nicole Kidman, Babygirl (A24)

Mikey Madison, Anora (Neon)

Demi Moore, The Substance (Mubi)

Justice Smith, I Saw the TV Glow (A24)

SUPPORTING FILM PERFORMANCE OF THE YEAR

Michele Austin, Hard Truths (Bleecker Street)

Yura Borisov, Anora (Neon)

Kieran Culkin, A Real Pain (Searchlight Pictures)

Ariana Grande, Wicked (Universal)

Aunjanue Ellis-Taylor, Nickel Boys (Orion Pictures/Amazon MGM Studios)

Brigette Lundy-Paine, I Saw the TV Glow (A24)

Clarence Maclin, Sing Sing (A24)

Guy Pearce, The Brutalist (A24)

Margaret Qualley, The Substance (Mubi)

Zoe Saldaña, Emilia Peréz (Netflix)

DOCUMENTARY OF THE YEAR

Dahomey (Mubi)

Daughters (Netflix)

The Remarkable Life of Ibelin (Netflix)

Sugarcane (National Geographic)

Will & Harper (Netflix)

LGBTQ DOCUMENTARY OF THE YEAR

Chasing Chasing Amy (Level 33)

Frida (Amazon MGM Studios)

Merchant Ivory (Cohen Media Group)

Queendom (Greenwich Entertainment)

Will & Harper (Netflix)

ANIMATED FILM OF THE YEAR

Flow (Sideshow / Janus Films)

Inside Out 2 (Disney)

Memoir of a Snail (IFC Films)

Wallace & Gromit: Vengeance Most Fowl (Netflix)

The Wild Robot (Universal, DreamWorks)

GENRE FILM OF THE YEAR

For excellence in science fiction, fantasy and horror

Dune: Part Two (Warner Bros.)

I Saw the TV Glow (A24)

Nosferatu (Focus Features)

The Substance (Mubi)

Wicked (Universal)

FILM MUSIC OF THE YEAR

The Brutalist (A24)

Challengers (Amazon MGM Studios)

Emilia Peréz (Netflix)

I Saw the TV Glow (A24)

Wicked (Universal)

VISUALLY STRIKING FILM OF THE YEAR

The Brutalist (A24)

Dune: Part Two (Warner Bros.)

Nosferatu (Focus Features)

Nickel Boys (Orion Pictures/Amazon MGM Studios)

The Substance (Mubi)

CAMPIEST FLICK 

Hundreds of Beavers (Cineverse, Vinegar Syndrome)

Madame Web (Sony)

Megalopolis (Lionsgate)

The Substance (Mubi)

Trap (Warner Bros.)

“WE’RE WILDE ABOUT YOU!” RISING STAR AWARD

Jonathan Bailey

Vera Drew

Karla Sofía Gascón 

Brigette Lundy-Paine

Mikey Madison

Katy O’Brian

Drew Starkey

WILDE ARTIST AWARD

To a truly groundbreaking force in entertainment

Colman Domingo

Luca Guadagnino

Coralie Fargeat

Jane Schoenbrun

Tilda Swinton

GALECA LGBTQIA+ FILM TRAILBLAZER

For creating art that inspires empathy, truth and equity

Vera Drew

Cynthia Erivo

Luca Guadagnino

Jane Schoenbrun

Julio Torres

TIMELESS STAR (Career achievement award)

Honoring an exemplary career marked by character, wisdom and wit

To be announced February 13 with all winners.

Nomination counts per studio:

Altered Innocence – 1 

Amazon/MGM + Orion – 13

A24 – 25

Bleecker Street – 2

Cineverse / Vinegar Syndrome – 2

Cohen Media Group – 1 

Disney – 1

Focus Features – 4

Greenwich Entertainment – 2

IFC – 1 

Level 33 – 1 

Lionsgate – 1

Magnolia – 1 

Mubi – 10

National Geographic – 1

Neon – 5

Netflix – 11

Searchlight -1 

Sideshow / Janus Films – 4 

Sony – 1

Sony Pictures Classics – 1

Strand – 1

Universal  – 5

Utopia – 1

Variance / LD Entertainment – 1 

Warner Bros. – 3 

About GALECA & The Dorian Awards

Formed in 2009, GALECA: The Society of LGBTQ Entertainment Critics honors the best in film, television and Broadway/Off Broadway, mainstream to LGBTQIA+, via the Dorian Awards. A 501 c 6 nonprofit, GALECA serves to remind bigots, bullies and our own beleaguered communities that the world looks to the informed Q+ eye on entertainment. The organization also advocates for better pay, access and respect for its members, especially those in our most underrepresented and vulnerable segments. GALECA’s efforts also include the Crimson Honors, a college film/TV criticism contest for LGBTQ women or nonbinary students of color. 

See our members’ latest reviews, commentary and interviews, along with looks at entertainment’s past, on Bluesky and elsewhere @DorianAwards. GALECA’s YouTube channel features the group’s past Dorians film and TV Toast awards specials, video chats with filmmakers and performers, plus talks with members about their latest books and more. Find out more at GALECA.org.

GALECA: The Society of LGBTQ Entertainment journalists is a core member of CGEM: Critics Groups for Equality in Media, an alliance of underrepresented entertainment journalists organizations.

There are few movie stars who have been as prolific as Nicole Kidman.

In fact, the Australian star of “Babygirl” – the slick erotic thriller by Dutch filmmaker Halina Reijn now in theaters – has been so busy in recent years (23 films in the last decade, and that’s not even counting her television work or her gig as celebrity spokesmodel for the AMC Theater chain) that it’s become a running gag in the popular conversation. It even emerged as a punch line for Golden Globes host Nikki Glaser earlier this month.

Make no mistake, though, there’s a reason for her continued presence as one of Hollywood’s most valuable players, and “Babygirl,” which pushes her to exhibit the kind of vulnerability rarely even expected of performers half her age, is ample proof of that.

In the film, Kidman stars as Romy Mathis, the CEO of a New York tech company – an Amazon-style purchasing hub where order fulfillment is handled exclusively via robotics – whose marriage to a renowned theater director (Antonio Banderas) works everywhere but in the bedroom. When Samuel (Harris Dickinson), a much-younger new male intern at the company to whom she is already attracted, requests her as his mentor as part of a company leadership program, she finds herself drawn into an affair, fueled by the Dom/sub sexual dynamic of her fantasies, which compromises her position of power in the company almost as much as it satisfies the unmet needs of her personal life. It’s a self-described thriller, so needless to say, things start to spin out of control when Samuel shows up unannounced at her home in the middle of a family gathering – but the increasing danger only serves to draw her deeper into a situation which, by any conventional standard, represents a highly inappropriate breach of conduct, at best.

Influenced noticeably by films from the pre-“MeToo”-era dealing with the blending of sexual and professional power dynamics (both “Indecent Proposal” and “Basic Instinct” have been cited by Reijn as inspiration) and marked by an aloof, almost documentarian perspective that contrasts with the boundary-pushing provocation of its intimate scenes in a way that distances us from the ethical quandaries of its central relationship, it’s a movie that both invites us and challenges us. Investing us in the experience of a woman who has beaten the odds to find success while resigning herself to an unsatisfactory sex life with an otherwise perfectly matched husband, it asks us to empathize and even root for Romy as she negotiates the thorny path toward an erotic self-actualization that matches her professional one, despite the strong societal current that would brand every decision she makes along the way as toxic. It’s this conflict between what’s “right” and what serves our deepest instinctual needs that gives “Babygirl” its edgy power, far more than its scenes of fetish-driven intimacy – which, while they crackle with the kind of sexual tension that’s often lacking in the scenes of “socially endorsed” intimacy presented in mainstream cinema, are undeniably tame compared with what can be found in the more transgressive milieu of underground cinema – and rattles our sense of (for lack of a better word) “decency.”

This said, the scenes in which Kidman – who fearlessly embraces the challenge of being an A-list superstar (of a “certain age”) in a role that hinges not just on her sexual viability, but the willingness with which she allows her body to be presented for scrutiny – surrenders herself to the irresistible draw of her forbidden young lover are nevertheless searing examples of raw cinematic expression. This is certainly a function of her full commitment to the role, and her ability to find the right blend of self-awareness and self-abandon that convinces us of their authenticity. But it’s equally due to the smouldering self-assurance and adroitly balanced serenity of Dickinson’s Samuel, who overcomes the natural distrust that inherently accompanies his role (as a male subordinate seemingly exploiting his female superior’s vulnerability) to win a palpable measure of respect – if not our full sympathies – through an almost preternatural sense of self-confidence and a kind of dark sincerity that renders the mutually exploitative nature of their relationship almost irrelevant in our visceral response to it.

Before anyone questions the weight with which we consider the movie’s sex scenes, it’s important to convey that “Babygirl” is most decidedly a film about sexual politics, and, despite the complimentary juxtaposition it provides with workplace culture, it is there where it hits its deepest and most resonant chords in our collective psyche. The forced strictures of our societal roles take a back seat to the raw and untamed urgency of our most intimate desires, and even the sacrosanct bond of marital commitment is fair game when it comes to fulfilling the fantasies that somehow make us feel more wholly ourselves, regardless – and indeed, often because of – any taboos that might otherwise discourage us from exploring them. 

In an era when the “rules” around sex somehow feel both less and more stringent than ever, such an approach feels particularly transgressive. Indeed, the implication than an illicit office affair might be anything other than an HR nightmare might well seem like a radical notion even to those with a more-or-less permissive stance on matters of personal morality, in any era. Yet “Babygirl” negotiates those dangerous curves with wickedly seductive finesse, offering up a steamy portrait of illicit-yet-irresistible sexual adventure that ultimately feels less like a cautionary tale – despite the inevitable personal and professional consequences that threaten to shatter Romy’s idealized “Girl Boss” life as her affair with Samuel grows more and more out of her control – than a taboo-smashing story of personal liberation and growth beyond conventional mores.

Delivered without overt judgment through Reijn’s observational treatment, it’s a movie that successfully conveys the allure of “kinky” sexual roleplay far more convincingly than “Fifty Shades of Gray” – thanks in no small part to Dickinson, whose breathtakingly opaque performance renders Samuel with equal parts irresistible sex appeal and chilling menace, and whose May/September chemistry with Kidman is not only convincing but undeniably hot.

It’s her film, however, and it’s her performance, which captures an emotional nakedness far more courageous than that required by baring her perfect-for-any-age body, that gives “Babygirl” the depth that makes it more than just a topical tale of sexual politics in the workplace. Indeed, the office intrigue that surrounds the affair seems almost an afterthought, a convenient “McGuffin” to draw us into a story that is really about something much more interesting – and much more human.

While the movie doesn’t always land perfectly – particularly in its treatment of Romy’s marriage, which feels vaguely perfunctory and leaves Banderas with little room to explore the nuances that might make his character more than a cipher – it’s still a deliciously provocative, visually stylish piece of boldly countercultural filmmaking, that dares to suggest that the path to personal growth sometimes lies through kinky, forbidden sex.

You have to admit, it’s a very appealing suggestion.

If there’s anything Hollywood loves – during “Awards Season” at least – it’s a good old-fashioned epic.

From “Gone With the Wind” to “Ben-Hur” to “The Godfather” and beyond, the film industry has always favored “big” movies when it comes to doling out its annual accolades, in part because awards equate to more public interest (and therefore more revenue) for films that might not otherwise grab enough attention to earn back their massive budgets. Yet, profit motive aside, such movies exude the kind of monumental grandeur that has come to be seen as the pinnacle of filmmaking craft, a perfect blend of art and entertainment that represents Hollywood at its finest and most iconic. It only makes sense that the people whose life is devoted to making movies would want to celebrate something that lives up to that ideal, especially when it also seems to reflect the cultural climate of its time.

That’s good news for “The Brutalist,” which has been buzzed – for months now – as the front-runner for all the Best Picture awards and seems to have proven its inevitability with its win of the Best Motion Picture Drama prize at this week’s Golden Globes. It meets all the requirements for an epic prestige picture: a sweeping plot, containing a nebula of currently relevant thematic ideas, but with an iconic historical period as its backdrop; monumental settings, spectacular locations, and impeccably designed costumes; an acclaimed actor giving a tour-de-force performance at the head of a proverbial “cast of thousands” and a runtime long enough to necessitate an intermission. Add the fact that it comes with an array of already-bestowed prizes from some of the most prestigious film festivals in the world, not to mention high placement on most of the year’s prominent “10 best” lists, and its predicted victory charge through the rest of the awards gauntlet looks likely to be a sure bet.

That assessment might seem glib, even cynical, but it’s no reflection on the movie. On the contrary, “The Brutalist” stands out above the rest of the crop not because of the hype, but because of its cinematic excellence, and that is precisely what has made it such an attractive awards candidate.

Spanning several decades across the mid-20th century, it’s the saga of László Tóth (Adrien Brody), a Hungarian Jewish refugee – once a young rising star on the European architecture scene – who seeks a new life in America after being liberated from a Nazi concentration camp. Reuniting with his already-Americanized cousin (Alessandro Nivola), who now owns a furniture business in New York, he offers his Bauhaus-educated expertise in exchange for a place to stay, leading to a fortuitous connection with wealthy industrialist Harrison Lee Van Buren (Guy Pearce), who becomes enamored with his work. The resulting commission not only allows him to design and begin construction on a spectacular new masterpiece, but to facilitate the emigration of his beloved wife Erzsébet (Felicity Jones) – from whom he had been separated during the war – and his orphaned niece Zsófia (Raffey Cassidy).

Things are never easy for an immigrant, however, and unanticipated setbacks on the ambitious project for his mercurial new patron – possibly connected to a “functional” heroin habit that has grown increasingly difficult to balance with his professional life – soon lead to one reversal of fortune after another. It will take years before László is finally given the chance to complete his dream project, but even then the volatile affections of Van Buren threaten to thwart his ambitions before they can reach fruition.

It’s difficult to offer a synopsis that effectively sums up the powers of this film’s singular combination of pseudo-historical gravitas (the “pseudo” in this case means “fictionalized,” not “untruthful”) and coldly aloof observational commentary about the truth behind the so-called “American Dream”; director Brady Corbet unfolds his boldly countercultural narrative, in which the wealth and power of a privileged class that holds sway over the destiny of immigrants and outsiders is allegorically portrayed through the relationship between a visionary artist and the oligarch who ultimately wants nothing more than to exploit him. It’s an unmistakably political perspective that shines through that lens, and one that feels eerily apt in a time when even the greatest expressions of our humanity are granted value only so far as they serve the interests – and feed the egos – of the ruling power elite, and marginalized outsiders are “tolerated” only as long as they are useful.

In the intricately woven screenplay by Corbet and writing partner Mona Fastvold, these ideas run throughout the story of László’s American experience like the streaks of color in a slab of fine marble, turning “The Brutalist” into an anti-fascist parable through the personal stories of its characters. The portrait it paints of American classism, racism, anti-Semitism and sexism – all perhaps most boldly personified by Van Buren’s arrogantly boorish son (Joe Alwyn) – is not an attractive one; and though it grants us historical distance to make its observations, it is impossible not to see both the ominous connections that can be made to our current era and the true character of an American history in which “greatness” only existed for those with the money to buy it. The result is an eloquent piece of filmmaking that manages to “speak truth to power” through the details of its narrative without lofty speeches (mostly) or other contrivances to highlight its arguments – though admittedly, the broad strokes with which it crafts some of its more unpleasant characters occasionally feel like not-so-subtle Hollywood-style manipulation.

Ultimately, of course, what gives Corbet’s movie its real power is its size. Like the architectural style embraced by its title character, “The Brutalist” is monumental, a construction of high ceilings and ornate furnishings that is somehow streamlined into a minimalist, functional whole. Superbly shot by cinematographer Lol Crawley in a nostalgic VistaVision screen ratio that demands viewing on the big screen, it boasts a bold visual aesthetic rarely attempted by modern films, further suiting the scale of the statement it makes.

Finally, though, it’s Brody’s outstanding performance that drives the film, a master class in understated emotional expression that reveals a complex landscape of pain and passion through nuance rather than bombast. Jones is also superb as his wife, every bit his intellectual equal and exuding strength despite being wheelchair bound, and Pearce delivers a career-highlight turn as Van Buren, capturing both his confident charisma and terrifying rage while still giving glimpses of the hidden passions that lurk below them – though to say more about that might constitute a spoiler.

There’s no denying that “The Brutalist” is a superb movie, and one that feels as capable of standing the test of time as one of its protagonist’s structures. Make no mistake, though, it’s no crowd-pleaser; non-cinema buffs may be daunted by its combination of extreme length and leisurely pace, and while it has its moments of uplift, it never veers too far from the grim melancholy that lurks beneath them. For those with the stamina for it, however, it’s a movie that enfolds you completely, and holds your interest for each of its 200 minutes.