Set against the aesthetic background of midcentury modernism, The Brutalist contains multitudes in its thematic and dramatic meanings. This movie, the third from director Brady Corbet, was probably my favorite film of the year. It fuses intimate character work and an epic setting and timeline, taking us on an incredible journey of postwar immigration. The momentum of the story is captured on VistaVision film, which was last used in the 1950s. This fact alone has caused significant chatter about the film, divorced from the film’s content and themes.
VistaVision is when the film is run through the camera horizontally, rather than vertically, resulting in a bigger negative and enhanced “resolution.” I am intrigued by the re-introduction of this format, mainly because no one has seen a new-release VistaVision movie since the sixties. Due to that fact alone, The Brutalist is automatically in conversation with cinema history. Eye-catching, new cinema formats like VistaVision and Cinemascope were introduced to the American public to rival the rapid rise of television in postwar America. These technological innovations, in conjunction with marketing campaigns, are not unlike the gimmicky popcorn buckets of today. Only now, staying home to watch TV has been replaced with lying in bed to watch TikTok videos. These issues of attention incite active Hollywood PR campaigns to keep audiences in theaters.
As much as it pains me to say, the process of creating a film in today’s media landscape has become almost as important as the film’s story for some viewers and “media consumers.” The act of shooting on celluloid film alone has become intriguing enough for writers to use it as content for internet articles. At a time when film has become increasingly expensive and out of reach for so many filmmakers, it comes as a marker of artistic integrity to certain projects during awards season. Last year, Oppenheimer used only practical effects for its subatomic nuclear reaction shots and its large-scale explosions. For a Best Picture Oscar winner, shot in IMAX film, that is quite impressive. The PR fodder from this process was impressive: there were many conversations about the film centered on this fact alone.
The process of filmmaking in this way lends itself to an easy topic of conversation. You can ask, “Oh, did you read about how they shot that?” as you walk out of the cinema’s exit doors. This line of conversation begets only more attention towards spectacle and sometimes vacuous chatter. It can suck up all the air in conversations about a movie, negating any need for critical reflection or analysis of the story.
When I was in film school (about seven years ago), I was surrounded by films that had been “Shot on iPhone,” creating a huge buzz around them at the time. It’s worth noting here that significant attention is being given to the fact that Danny Boyle’s latest film, 28 Years Later (coming out in 2025), was shot on an iPhone. Sean Baker, who is up for an Oscar this year for Anora, jumped into the mainstream with Tangerine ten years ago. One of the first pieces of information mentioned in articles or conversations about Tangerine was the fact that it was shot on a cell phone. After countless articles about the film’s production and technical techniques, Baker was put on the map for being an indie filmmaker who pushes the boundaries of filmmaking to create character-centered dramas. Like the seventies filmmakers who used 16mm film and available lighting, Baker was cemented in the industry’s mind as an iconoclast. Even today, much of the press coverage of Anora mentions that the film had no intimacy coordinator, at a time when on-set safety is increasingly in the mainstream conversation. (Worth noting that the actors in the film stated they were comfortable forgoing the intimacy coordinator, and said Baker created a healthy environment.) Nevertheless, these conversations make Sean Baker increasingly intriguing as a director, as much for his behind-the-scenes gossip as his films’ content.
I want to mention Marshall McLuhan here, although I am reticent to do so, because of how often he is quoted in any writing of cultural and media criticism. His famous maxim of “the medium is the message,” has just been taken to a new dimension in our current cultural landscape. The meaning of art is increasingly detached from the actual writing or “content” of a piece. No longer is the medium the most meaningful aspect of a piece of art, but the creation story behind that art. We care about how a film generates online buzz, which directly translates to its box office success. As filmmaking decreases its hold on the cultural landscape of Americans, the average American only buys 3 movie tickets a year, it’s no wonder that the marketing of cinematic events is increasingly important. Personally, I am a huge fan of the daring and cumbersome techniques used by directors Corbet, Nolan, and Baker. They are all true artists who utilize cameras to serve their specific stories and characters. But the wave of change in how we talk about films has changed drastically. And the “auteurs” of today increasingly need to advertise the use of their filmmaking techniques in order to remain relevant.
Leo Gallagher
Leo Gallagher is a New York based cinematographer and filmmaker primarily working in documentaries, commercials, and independent films. You can follow him on Instagram @leo.gallag
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