Mild spoilers for The Brutalist below.
In Brady Corbet’s The Brutalist, Joe Alwyn and Stacy Martin play twins, but according to the pair, they didn’t do much to establish a specific sibling dynamic. “I dyed my hair closer to Joe’s hair color, just practically speaking,” Martin, who plays Maggie Van Buren, tells ELLE.com with a laugh. Still, as the children of the wealthy industrialist Harrison Lee Van Buren Sr. (Guy Pearce), the two actors have a convincingly natural rapport, whispering gossip to one another as only siblings can do. “It was about keeping that child-ness between them,” Martin continues. “Brady was very clear on having those little moments, because they are children. Yes, they are children in an adult world and they operate as adults, but it was important to remind the audience that there’s a lot of youth and a lot of possibility that is just sometimes forgotten in our world.”
A three-and-a-half-hour epic, The Brutalist tells the expansive story of fictional architect László Tóth (Adrien Brody), a Jewish émigré who, after escaping Hungary during the Holocaust, lands in Philadelphia where he eventually meets Harrison, who hires him for a potentially career-defining architecture project. This assignment unites László with Maggie and Alwyn’s Harry Van Buren, but their feelings about the heroin-addicted visionary now parading through their mansion couldn’t be more different. As Harry, Alwyn brings a delightful menace to the screen; he is the sibling most like his capitalist brute of a father, indulging in every opportunity to flex his power. Martin’s Maggie, however, represents a direct foil; though still pampered and privileged, she has a noticeably softer demeanor. As her father and brother take advantage of the much less fortunate László, she attempts to make him and the Tóth family feel at home in her own.
The film, which was recently nominated for 10 Academy Awards, was a reunion for both actors. Alwyn worked with Guy Pearce on Mary Queen of Scots and A Christmas Carol, while Martin has starred in all three of Corbet’s feature films. (Most notably, she played the increasingly frustrated sister of Natalie Portman’s narcissistic pop star in Vox Lux.) But to hear them tell it, working on The Brutalist was unlike anything else. As Alwyn gushes to ELLE.com, “Brady gave people the time and space to play around and bring their own ideas. I loved that.”
So much about The Brutalist feels epic. When you first read the script, could you tell from the page just how big everything about it would feel?
Stacy Martin: I’ve worked with Brady three times now, so I’ve read all of his scripts. They’re all incredibly detailed, full of visual and music references, so you do delve into the world that he’s writing very easily. You can immediately imagine the scope of it, which I think is quite rare for screenplays.
Joe Alwyn: I would echo that. To start with, it’s about 170 pages, so it already felt massive and rigorous. Just this American epic. The themes it’s prodding at—the immigrant experience, class, art versus commerce, the American dream—felt big, even on the page. But it also felt incredibly personal and intimate. Everyone’s characters were nuanced and had different shades to them. It was very moving, and it felt like a throwback reading it. Tonally, it made me think of Once Upon a Time in America, or more recently, There Will Be Blood.
Speaking of the film’s central themes, where do you see your characters—the children of a very wealthy industrialist—fitting in within the broader picture?
Martin: Each character is a symbol of a specific time. Maggie was someone for whom, at the beginning of the film, everything is possible; it’s very reminiscent of that time in America when you could become whatever you wanted and embody the American Dream. Whereas, towards the end of the film, you see that, as a woman, she didn’t really manage to transcend the confines of American society. I really wanted that to come across, especially because it was such a male-heavy world, which you feel a lot in the film. [It was also nice] to feed off having a brother. I think siblings are always quite an interesting dynamic. Because they are twins, they’re very close. But they’re also very different and have very different opportunities.
Alwyn: Everything is possible for them, but that’s a very singular experience for the Van Buren family. What I found interesting is what it must be like to grow up insulated by that kind of power and money and wealth, and how that opens doors but kind of closes you off to other things. I thought Harry was probably someone who had grown up with too much of one thing and not enough of another thing. He had all the materials in the world and all the financial resources, but probably not the right amount of love. Or the right kind of love.
As a family, it reminded me of these recent shows like Succession, or even more currently, what we see happening in American politics—these big, capitalist families that can do what they want and treat people how they like and get away with it. It reminded me of people like that who, sadly, are seemingly unanswerable, but are also stunted and hollow for it. But because of that, I also liked that symmetry of having a sibling. On one hand, Maggie is probably more a beacon of goodness. She’s kind of a light, and Harry is the naughty one.
Joe, I recently read that you looked to Donald Trump and his family while shaping this character. Are there any specific details you cherry-picked to apply to Harry?
Alwyn: Well, I didn’t think of the Trumps as a direct inspiration for the character. It just felt like an overt comparison between those types of big families at the top, so to speak. There are dozens of examples of the things that Trump and those around him have gotten away with, and having their legal teams and money available to bat away any kind of comeuppance for their behavior felt like a parallel. I’m not saying the Van Burens are completely bad people, but again, they’re just insulated in a very singular bubble of money and power. I mean, look at [Harrison’s] actions—he thinks he can get away with what he wants. That’s the comparison I was making.
What was it like working with Guy Pearce as your on-screen father?
Martin: He’s the kindest man you could meet and it’s kudos to him that our family really comes through. He’s such a wonderful actor that you’re sort of excited to be in a scene with him because you’re watching someone so brilliant. He really created a character from the script and made it his own in a way that I think not a lot of actors do these days. It was just such an honor.
Alwyn: He’s the best. I’ve worked with him three times now, and I’m always taken aback. He’s obviously a lovely person, funny and considerate and all of the good words, but he’s also just such a hard worker. Seeing him interrogate the script and his level of focus and dedication is amazing. He’s different in every role he plays. He’s one of the few people who really disappears and reinvents himself from character to character. We both felt so lucky to be with him, to be his kids.
The film was quite famously made for under $10 million and shot in just over one month, which feels insane given its scope. Could you feel that pressure during production?
Alwyn: I felt aware of how much needed to be shot within 30-odd days. But what I found most amazing is that it didn’t feel unbelievably pressured and rushed, and I think that’s because Brady knew about the constraints that were surrounding him. He had this project in his mind and had been fighting for so many years to make it that by the time it came to shooting, he knew exactly what he wanted to get and how he was going to get it. So, speaking from my own experience, it didn’t feel unbelievably chaotic. I’m sure it was probably a different experience [for Brady and Adrien]. But I was so impressed.
Martin: You’re right, Joe. There’s something about Brady—he writes knowing how he wants to shoot it. He’s extremely precise and extremely visual, so there’s a real sense of comfort [once you get to set]. Another thing he’s really great at is getting people on the same page to be really excited about doing something special. He’s a great leader in that way. So even though there are constraints, there’s a real sense of possibility when you work with him.
Stacy, having worked with him three times now, have you felt an evolution in his work?
Martin: Yeah, of course. We definitely have a few shortcuts in terms of working together, and I trust him wholeheartedly. But what I’m so amazed by is that, whether it was on his first film, The Childhood of a Leader, or this, he’s the same director. It’s so great to see him just be able to work in a way that he believes is right for the film. It’s not an easy feat and it is a battle, but it’s so exhilarating to witness someone creating something like that.
Joe, throughout your career, you’ve played some pretty villainous characters. (I think, specifically, about the slave-catcher Gideon you played in Harriet.) How do you get into the mindset of these more unsavory characters?
Alwyn: To be honest, I think that with any character, the hope is that they’re not just one thing. Of course, people can be—and are—despicable. But you try to think about why a person is the way they are. Even if someone is behaving in an ugly or cruel way, it’s often fueled from a place of insecurity or hurt or deep prejudice that can come from his own vulnerabilities.
And that’s equally for somebody who’s a “good” character. People might say László is a good character, but he’s also stubborn and angry at times and flies off the handle. With anyone, you’re just trying to find lots of different shades within them. I try not to think about it as too black and white, if that makes sense.
Speaking of László, you go toe-to-toe with Adrien Brody quite a bit. What was it like working opposite the Oscar-winner in this quasi-antagonistic manner?
Alwyn: It was so fun! I grew up watching his films and I’m such a fan, first and foremost. So to spend time with him and get to ask him questions about whatever it might be—work or not work—and get to know him as a friend was lovely. But he was also so unbelievably focused and poured everything that he had into it. There are some scenes where you’re playing off someone and you both want something completely different, and that’s such a great experience.
Stacy, earlier, you touched upon the gendered differences between Harry and Stacy, and I’m wondering if that could also explain why Maggie, to some extent, still has a gentle, caring nature and Harry doesn’t. Is it possible that Harry, the son pegged as the heir apparent, is more volatile because he’s under pressure, while Maggie, as the daughter, is allowed to be more relaxed? We really don’t ever see Maggie “working” at all; she’s mostly relegated to this “entertaining” role, where she’s regaling guests with stories.
Martin: I don’t know if it’s a question of turning out better or worse. I think that the sad thing about Maggie is that she would have wanted to be a part of the family business. She would have wanted to be a part of those meetings. In a way, she might have even wanted to take Harry’s place, but sadly, she is crushed by society and these very archaic systems.
But I think it makes her more observant to people’s behavior because she’s less of a participant. And maybe, by observing, she can relate more to someone who’s on the outside, because in a certain way, she’s been on the outside—in a very different way, of course, but she’s also never been quite allowed to join the party. So I think her observance is what sort of “saves” her.
And Joe, we have to talk about the final dinner scene, when Erzsébet (Felicity Jones) confronts Harrison Sr. about raping László. Your character really goes crazy, dragging this older, disabled woman across the floor. Before, it seemed like Harry had been toeing this line, where he obviously didn’t like László and his family, but kept it elusive. But this moment feels like the nastiest manifestation of that simmering resentment. How was that scene to play?
Alwyn: I keep using this word, but it was a lot of fun. For one reason, Brady shot it all in one take, so for six or seven minutes, it felt like a little piece of theater. But it also felt oddly cathartic. In the script, it says something like, He drags her out, but what I found interesting about Harry’s reaction is that it’s not just anger. I think this confrontation brings out a range of all these other things. It was shame, or guilt, or maybe even a hint at his own experience along those lines. We obviously don’t see anything in the film, but perhaps he has experienced something similar. So it feels like this boiling point where all these things come to the surface—and it’s nice when a character snaps! He has toed the line, and of course he’s been a menace throughout, but it’s also been buttoned down, because that’s the era and that’s the character. But to let loose in a scene like that, it was great. We all really enjoyed shooting that scene.
The Brutalist is playing in theaters now.
This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.