Movies this long usually give you a clean ending. You sit through three and a half hours of 70mm grain and architectural obsession, and you expect a period at the end of the sentence. But Brady Corbet’s The Brutalist isn’t interested in being easy. By the time the credits roll on the story of László Tóth, most people are left scratching their heads over one specific, vanishing act.
Harrison Van Buren basically evaporates. The wealthy industrialist, played with a sort of reptilian charm by Guy Pearce, is the engine behind the film’s massive Van Buren Institute. He’s the benefactor, the bully, and eventually, the monster. When the floor drops out from under him in the final act, the movie refuses to show us a body. It refuses to give us a police report. It just leaves us in the dark of a concrete chapel.
The Confrontation That Broke the Billionaire
To understand the end, you’ve got to look at the dinner party. Honestly, it’s one of the most uncomfortable scenes in recent cinema. Erzsébet, László’s wife, has spent the whole movie struggling. She’s been in a wheelchair, malnourished, and basically ignored by the high-society types surrounding her husband’s genius.
Then she stands up.
Literally. She finds the strength to walk into Van Buren’s mansion and drops a bomb in front of his kids and his high-society guests. She calls him what he is: a rapist.
The silence in that room is deafening. Harrison doesn't go to jail. He doesn't even really apologize. He denies it, his son Harry gets violent with Erzsébet, and the guests scatter like roaches. But in the chaos, Harrison Lee Van Buren simply disappears.
Did Harrison Van Buren Kill Himself?
This is the big question. Most viewers walk away thinking he committed suicide. The movie practically begs you to think so without actually saying it.
We see a frantic search party. They’re scouring the grounds of his massive estate. They head toward the unfinished community center—the "Brutalist" heart of the film. The camera follows the flashlights and the shouting men into the chapel, the place Harrison built to honor his mother.
The Clues in the Chapel
- The "Something" Found: One of the searchers yells out, "Think we’ve got something over here!"
- The Symbolic Cross: The scene ends with a long, slow tilt up to the cross-shaped window. The sun is rising. It’s beautiful, but it feels like a funeral.
- The Pool Detail: Earlier in the film, Harrison mentions he can’t swim. Some fans think he drowned himself in the fountain or the pool area of the institute.
It makes sense, right? A man that powerful, that obsessed with his own legacy and his mother’s memory, couldn't handle the "shame" of being publicly outed. In the 1950s, an accusation of rape—and the heavy subtext of his repressed homosexuality—was a social death sentence. For a Van Buren, social death is the only death that matters.
The Case for the "Great Escape"
But hold on. There’s another way to look at this.
Some people think he just ran away. He’s a billionaire. He has resources. Why would a narcissist like Harrison kill himself when he could just move to Italy or disappear into another tax haven?
There’s a cynical brilliance to this theory. If Harrison just leaves, it proves that the "American Dream" he represents is a ghost. He can exploit an immigrant like László, ruin lives, and then just... exit stage left. He doesn't have to face the music because the system he built protects him.
The film's cinematographer has actually hinted in interviews that suicide was the intended fate, specifically drowning. But the fact that Corbet kept it off-camera is a deliberate choice. He wanted us to feel the void Harrison left behind.
Why the Ending Still Matters
The most jarring part isn't even the disappearance. It’s the time jump.
We skip ahead to 1980. We’re in Venice. We see the completed Van Buren Institute, and it’s a masterpiece. But Harrison is nowhere to be found. His name is on the building, but his soul is gone.
László’s niece, Zsófia, gives a speech that basically reclaims the narrative. She reveals that the building’s design—the one Harrison thought was a tribute to his mother—was actually modeled after the architecture of the concentration camps László survived.
That’s the ultimate irony. Harrison thought he was buying a legacy. Instead, he funded a monument to the very trauma he tried to ignore. Whether he’s at the bottom of a pool or living under a fake name in Europe, he lost. The artist outlived the owner.
What to Do With This Information
If you’re still reeling from that ending, you’re not alone. The film is designed to be chewed on. If you want to dive deeper into the themes of The Brutalist, here are a few things to keep in mind for your next rewatch:
- Watch the shadows: The movie uses light and dark to signal Harrison’s presence. When he disappears, the lighting in the chapel changes significantly.
- Listen to the son: Harry’s reaction to the accusation is telling. He’s not just protecting his dad; he’s protecting the family’s "purity."
- Revisit the quarry scene: The assault in Carrara is the turning point. Notice how Harrison uses his power as a weapon before he ever uses his body.
The fate of Harrison Van Buren isn't a plot hole. It’s a statement. In a world of concrete and steel, the people who pay for the buildings are often the first to be forgotten, while the art they tried to own stands forever.
Actionable Insight: If you're a fan of the film's "puzzle" ending, look up the work of architect Louis Kahn or the real-life history of Brutalism in Pennsylvania. The movie pulls heavily from real architectural tension of the 1950s, where "utility" and "beauty" were constantly at war. Understanding the real-world buildings that inspired the film makes the ending feel even more grounded.