If You Liked The Brutalist, These Films & Shows Are a Must-Watch

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For this list, we’re diving into films and series that showcase Brutalist architecture – whether in small doses or full-blown concrete glory. If The Brutalist left you craving more stark, geometric masterpieces, these picks will definitely scratch that itch. To keep things organized (because, let’s face it, Brutalism is all about structure), we’ve arranged the list in chronological order.

Think we missed a must-watch film or series with jaw-dropping Brutalist design? Drop your recommendations in the comments!

Crimes of the Future (1970)

Before David Cronenberg became the king of body horror, he dabbled in experimental dystopian weirdness with Crimes of the Future. This isn’t the high-budget sci-fi you might be used to – it’s a stripped-down, eerie vision of a world that feels eerily abandoned. Shot in stark, concrete-heavy locations, the film makes excellent use of Brutalist architecture, turning sterile hallways and desolate rooms into unsettling spaces of scientific obsession. It’s as if the walls themselves are watching, waiting for the next grotesque mutation to unfold. This early Cronenberg oddity is part art film, part nightmare, and fully drenched in unsettling atmosphere. Buckle up – it’s a strange ride. | © Cinépix

A Clockwork Orange (1971)

If there’s one film that practically screams Brutalism, it’s Stanley Kubrick’s A Clockwork Orange. Set in a dystopian Britain filled with harsh concrete structures and imposing geometric designs, the film’s architecture mirrors its themes of control, rebellion, and violent reconditioning. From the ominous Thamesmead South housing estate to the futuristic, minimalist interiors of the Korova Milk Bar, the film makes every Brutalist location feel like an extension of Alex’s twisted psyche. The stark, oppressive design of the Ludovico Medical Facility is particularly striking, reinforcing the dehumanizing effects of state power. It’s as much a film about psychological brutality as it is about aesthetic Brutalism – two things Kubrick knew how to wield with terrifying precision. | © Warner Bros.

1984 (1984)

You can’t talk about oppressive architecture without bringing up 1984. This adaptation of Orwell’s classic novel leans heavily into Brutalist aesthetics to bring its dystopian nightmare to life. The buildings are cold, monolithic, and devoid of individuality – just like the citizens of Airstrip One. The Ministry of Truth looms over everything like an inescapable concrete monster, a perfect metaphor for the film’s themes of surveillance and authoritarian control. Even the interiors feel like they were designed to drain the soul, with their endless gray walls and harsh lighting. This is Brutalism at its most terrifying – functional, overwhelming, and entirely devoid of warmth. Just like Big Brother intended. | © Virgin Films

RoboCop (1987)

Brutalist architecture meets 80s excess in RoboCop, a film that imagines a future Detroit where crime, corruption, and cybernetics collide. The towering headquarters of Omni Consumer Products (OCP) is a Brutalist behemoth, exuding corporate dominance and soulless efficiency. Shot in Dallas but meant to represent a crumbling, crime-ridden Detroit, the film cleverly contrasts the harsh, angular lines of OCP’s sleek corporate fortress with the decaying, graffiti-covered Brutalism of the streets. The film’s world is one where architecture isn’t just a backdrop – it’s a statement on power, capitalism, and how the built environment shapes human behavior. Also, let’s be honest: RoboCop himself is basically a walking, talking piece of Brutalism – imposing, functional, and just a little terrifying. | © Orion Pictures

Dekalog (1989)

Krzysztof Kieślowski’s Dekalog isn’t a sci-fi dystopia or an action-packed cyberpunk thriller, but it is a masterclass in how Brutalist architecture can shape human stories. Set almost entirely within a massive, gray Polish housing complex, this ten-part series turns everyday spaces into quiet, looming forces in people’s lives. The monolithic buildings, with their repetitive, windowed facades and seemingly endless hallways, create an atmosphere of isolation and existential dread. The apartment blocks feel both inescapable and impersonal, reinforcing the moral struggles of the characters inside. It’s a reminder that Brutalism isn’t just for dystopian nightmares – it also reflects the stark realities of life under bureaucratic systems where individual choices can feel both crucial and insignificant. | © Telewizja Polska

Total Recall (1990)

If you like your Brutalism with a side of exploding heads and existential crises, Total Recall is your kind of movie. Paul Verhoeven’s sci-fi classic doesn’t just give us Arnold Schwarzenegger running around Mars – it gives us a world dominated by stark, oppressive architecture that looks like it was designed by a committee that never smiled. The underground colonies are filled with angular concrete corridors, giving off a claustrophobic, dystopian feel, while the monolithic Mars structures could be mistaken for the dystopian headquarters of some totalitarian nightmare (which, honestly, they kind of are). It’s a film where the built environment feels just as intimidating as the mutant rebels and mind-bending plot twists. Plus, you get to see a Brutalist escalator massacre. What’s not to love? | © Carolco Pictures

Gattaca (1997)

If Brutalism had a sleek, stylish cousin who wore perfectly tailored suits and whispered about genetic perfection, it would be Gattaca. This moody sci-fi drama is all about clean lines, cold symmetry, and oppressive control, which makes its use of Brutalist architecture absolutely perfect. The film’s headquarters for the space program – filmed at Frank Lloyd Wright’s Marin County Civic Center – feels like a futuristic dystopia dressed up in mid-century modernism. Even the characters seem like they were sculpted from concrete, moving through their environments with eerie precision. Every shot oozes aesthetic perfection, reinforcing the film’s themes of genetic elitism and societal stratification. It’s Brutalism at its most stylish, and honestly, Ethan Hawke and Uma Thurman have never looked better while walking through a soulless, perfectly engineered world. | © Columbia Pictures

Equilibrium (2002)

Imagine a world where feelings are illegal, everyone dresses like they just walked out of a minimalist fashion catalog, and Brutalist architecture is the only acceptable backdrop. Welcome to Equilibrium, a movie that asks, “What if 1984 and The Matrix had a baby, and that baby grew up watching Fahrenheit 451?” The film’s dystopian cityscape is a cold, geometric masterpiece, with endless concrete corridors and massive government buildings designed to crush the human spirit. The Grammaton Clerics, led by Christian Bale’s emotionless enforcer, move through these spaces like they’re extensions of the architecture itself – efficient, rigid, and completely devoid of warmth. But of course, all that Brutalism can’t contain the power of human emotion (or gun-fu), and soon enough, those perfect concrete walls get a few well-placed bullet holes. | © Dimension Films

Let the Right One In (2008)

Brutalism isn’t just for dystopian nightmares – it’s also perfect for telling intimate, eerie stories about lonely kids and vampires. Let the Right One In is a film that understands how architecture can amplify isolation. The bleak, snow-covered apartment complex where Oskar and Eli meet is the perfect setting for a film about outsiders – its repetitive, monotonous design reflecting the monotony of life in a cold, indifferent world. The dimly lit hallways and stark concrete playgrounds create an eerie atmosphere that makes even a simple game of Morse code through a wall feel emotionally devastating. The contrast between the cold Brutalist environment and the fragile, budding relationship at the heart of the film makes this one of the most haunting and beautiful uses of Brutalism in cinema. | © Magnolia Pictures

Attack the Block (2011)

Aliens, gang members, and an oppressive London council estate – what more could you ask for in a Brutalist masterpiece? Attack the Block takes the cold, repetitive structures of social housing and turns them into a battlefield. The towering concrete apartment block at the center of the action isn’t just a backdrop; it’s practically a character in itself, trapping the residents inside while glowing-eyed alien creatures hunt them down. The film brilliantly uses the Brutalist setting to amplify tension, creating an urban fortress where every stairwell and corridor feels like a potential death trap. But beyond the horror and action, it also highlights the social realities of life in these spaces, making this one of the most cleverly layered uses of Brutalist architecture in modern cinema. Also, John Boyega fighting aliens on a bike through a Brutalist hellscape? Pure cinema. | © Optimum Releasing

Dredd (2012)

If there were ever a film that perfectly captured the spirit of Brutalist architecture, it’s Dredd. The entire movie takes place inside Peach Trees, a 200-story concrete nightmare that makes every bad apartment complex you’ve ever lived in look like a five-star resort. This is the Brutalist dream (or nightmare) in action – stark, functional, and completely indifferent to the people inside it. Karl Urban’s Judge Dredd stomps through its brutalist hallways like a futuristic cowboy, enforcing the law with zero hesitation and a whole lot of firepower. The monolithic design of Mega-City One’s towering blocks creates an oppressive, inescapable atmosphere, reinforcing the film’s themes of law, order, and how terrifyingly efficient concrete can be. Brutalism isn’t just a backdrop here – it’s a way of life. | © Lionsgate

Enemy (2013)

Denis Villeneuve’s Enemy is basically a love letter to Toronto’s Brutalist architecture – if that love letter were written in cryptic riddles and dipped in existential dread. Jake Gyllenhaal’s character moves through a world of monolithic concrete buildings that feel as empty and eerie as his unraveling mind. The architecture in this film doesn’t just frame the story; it actively enhances its themes of identity, paranoia, and the uncanny. Towering apartment complexes loom ominously in the background, casting long, unsettling shadows. Every Brutalist surface feels like it’s hiding a secret – just like the film itself. And let’s not forget that spider scene. If you’re into movies where the architecture makes you feel like you’re slowly losing your grip on reality, this one’s for you. | © Entertainment One

A Most Wanted Man (2014)

What’s a good spy thriller without some cold, imposing Brutalist architecture to set the mood? A Most Wanted Man takes us deep into the shadowy world of espionage, where every concrete government building looks like it was designed to crush your spirit before you even step inside. Set in Hamburg, the film leans into the city’s post-war architectural landscape, using its harsh, angular structures to mirror the moral ambiguity of the characters. Philip Seymour Hoffman’s weary, chain-smoking intelligence officer fits right into this world of glass, steel, and concrete – a place where secrets hide in every shadow and trust is as fragile as a crumbling façade. If you like your spy thrillers served cold, with a side of oppressive architecture, this one’s a must-watch. | © Lionsgate

High-Rise (2015)

High-Rise takes Brutalism to its logical, chaotic conclusion: an ultra-modern, self-contained tower block where society completely collapses. Based on J.G. Ballard’s novel, the film is a beautifully deranged exploration of class warfare, decadence, and the psychological effects of living in a giant concrete playground. Tom Hiddleston plays a man who moves into this seemingly utopian building, only to watch it descend into madness. The architecture here isn’t just a setting – it’s a metaphor for everything that’s wrong with modern life. The sterile, geometric design of the tower initially promises order and luxury, but as the film progresses, it becomes clear that Brutalist efficiency is no match for human dysfunction. By the end, it’s all wine-fueled parties, dog-eating, and total anarchy. Basically, Lord of the Flies, but with better interior design. | © StudioCanal

The Expanse (2015–2022)

In the far reaches of space, where humanity has colonized planets and moons, Brutalist architecture still reigns supreme. The Expanse takes the cold, functional aesthetic of Brutalism and applies it to an interplanetary setting, where massive space stations and military outposts look like they were designed by a concrete-obsessed architect from the 1970s. Whether it's the towering structures of Mars, the industrialized cities of the Belt, or the looming presence of Earth’s government buildings, the show uses Brutalist design to highlight power, control, and survival. Every angular corridor and concrete-laden command center feels deliberately built to remind its inhabitants that they are mere cogs in a much larger, indifferent machine. If you love the idea of Blade Runner-style architecture in space, The Expanse has you covered. | © Alcon Entertainment

Blade Runner 2049 (2017)

If Brutalist architecture had a neon-lit, cyberpunk fever dream, it would look exactly like Blade Runner 2049. Denis Villeneuve’s sequel to Ridley Scott’s sci-fi classic takes the rain-soaked, monolithic cityscapes of the original and dials up the stark, geometric beauty. The massive, minimalist structures of the Wallace Corporation headquarters, with its cavernous interiors and eerie pools of light, feel like temples built for a god of corporate dystopia. Meanwhile, K’s lonely apartment – cold, efficient, and devoid of any real warmth – looks like it was designed by a Brutalist AI that read too much existential philosophy. This is a film where architecture doesn’t just set the mood; it practically tells the story, emphasizing the alienation and power struggles that define this bleak future. Also, let’s be real – if you’re a Brutalism fan, you probably wouldn’t mind living in that mesmerizing, concrete-heavy dreamscape (as long as you don’t mind the occasional rogue replicant). | © Warner Bros.

Columbus (2017)

Not all Brutalism has to be dystopian, and Columbus is here to prove it. This indie gem is basically a love letter to modernist and Brutalist architecture, told through the quiet conversations of two lost souls wandering the architectural wonderland that is Columbus, Indiana. Instead of using stark concrete structures to evoke doom and oppression, the film highlights their beauty – how design, space, and light can shape emotions and human connection. Every frame feels like a perfectly composed postcard, capturing the elegance of buildings by Eero Saarinen, I.M. Pei, and Deborah Berke. This is a film for people who can spend hours staring at the perfect symmetry of a concrete structure and feel something profound. No explosions, no dystopian nightmares – just thoughtful conversations set against some of the most stunning examples of Brutalist and modernist architecture in the U.S. Who knew staring at buildings could be so emotionally rewarding? | © Superlative Films

Suspiria (2018)

Brutalism and horror go together like witches and secret covens, and Suspiria (2018) embraces that aesthetic with eerie perfection. While Dario Argento’s original was all about vibrant colors and ornate set pieces, Luca Guadagnino’s remake takes a colder, more oppressive approach. The Markos Dance Academy, housed in a massive, fortress-like building in Berlin, feels like the kind of place where architecture itself is conspiring against you. The building’s stark, concrete exterior and endless hallways add to the film’s creeping dread – because nothing says "this place is definitely haunted" quite like Brutalist design. The interiors, filled with brutalist staircases and suffocating spaces, turn the school into a living, breathing entity, amplifying the horror at its core. If you like your Brutalism served with a side of unsettling witchcraft and unsettling body horror, this one’s for you. | © Amazon Studios

Chernobyl (2019)

There is no better real-life Brutalist horror story than Chernobyl, and HBO’s miniseries nails the aesthetic with chilling accuracy. The show’s portrayal of Pripyat – the abandoned Soviet city built in the shadow of the doomed nuclear reactor – perfectly captures the cold, utilitarian essence of Soviet-era Brutalism. The massive, boxy apartment buildings, the eerily empty hospital halls, the sterile control rooms – it all reinforces the bureaucratic nightmare that unfolds in the series. Brutalist architecture has always been about function over form, and here, that function becomes a terrifying backdrop to one of the worst disasters in human history. The oppressive, uniform structures highlight the overwhelming sense of inevitability, where human lives become as disposable as the crumbling concrete around them. Watching Chernobyl, you can’t help but wonder: was the architecture part of the horror all along? | © HBO

Dune: Part One (2021)

If Brutalism had a desert-based, sci-fi fantasy epic, Dune: Part One would be its crowning achievement. Denis Villeneuve’s adaptation of Frank Herbert’s classic novel redefines how architecture can tell a story, using massive, monolithic structures to reflect the power and scale of its universe. The buildings of Arrakis – towering fortresses of brutalist stone – look as if they’ve been carved directly from the planet itself, blending seamlessly into the harsh desert landscape. The cold, geometric interiors of the Atreides’ stronghold feel intimidating and isolating, reinforcing the themes of power, destiny, and survival. And let’s talk about those Harkonnen structures – hulking, soulless voids of concrete and shadow that scream "dictatorship" from every angle. This is Brutalism in its purest form: stark, overwhelming, and undeniably awe-inspiring. If you ever wanted to see a movie where the architecture itself feels like a force of nature, Dune delivers. | © Warner Bros.