'Megalopolis' Review: Coppola Goes Out With a Bang and a Whimper at the Same Time
It’s the film which Francis Ford Coppola has been trying to make since the late 1970s, before he was even finished working on the gargantuan production Apocalypse Now. That film was such a mess of a production that it nearly killed multiple members of the cast and crew, Coppola himself included. It was so hectic and grueling that Coppola’s wife famously filmed a documentary behind the scenes to capture the madness on film. Apocalypse Now went on to amaze film audiences with its audacity and unflinching plunge into madness, and it’s still lauded by film buffs to this day. It remains to be seen whether Megalopolis (dedicated to Coppola’s late wife) will garner the same response, but as of its initial release, it looks to be better known for the monstrous blend of ego and ambition that it so clearly is.
Megalopolis allegedly takes place in a dystopian blend of New York City and Ancient Rome, though Coppola can’t quite commit to even that premise. The film focuses on the battle of wills between the conservative mayor Franklyn Cicero (Giancarlo Esposito) and a mad, brilliant architect named Cesar Catalina (Adam Driver). Cicero is determined to maintain the status quo, whilst Catalina sees a brighter future for the city, thanks to two things: his ability to stop and start time, and a new material known as Megalon.
One might question how Catalina acquired this magical ability to stop and start time; Coppola does not deign to explain it in his film. Bizarrely, this ability plays very little part in the actual story, with Catalina never seeming to use it in a productive manner. As for Megalon, good luck trying to figure out what it is, how it works, how Catalina discovered it, where it comes from, and why Catalina is the only one who sees its usefulness.
Standing between Cesar Catalina and Cicero (history buffs, eat your heart out), is the mayor’s daughter Julia (Nathalie Emmanuel). Devoted to her father, she nevertheless is drawn to Catalina’s eccentric manner and his far-reaching idealism. Although she is meant to be a sort of protagonist, she spends much of the film wavering between the man she falls in love with and her father. It’s the sort of outdated conflict which Freud might have helped to co-write, even as he shared a line of cocaine with Coppola in the process.
If one were to be positive about this film, one could admit that the three leads are doing their best. Driver, Emmanuel, and Esposito are all very talented actors, and they do what they can with the material they’re given. However, the writing fails them repeatedly.
The same (and worse) can be said about the supporting characters. Shia LaBeou wanders through the film as if he was given free reign to improvise. Improv can lead to some truly fascinating moments in cinema, but not in this case; half the time, LaBeouf meanders about, chewing the scenery as his character Clodio Pulcher (yes, that misspelling is deliberate) attempts to manipulate the city in a manner that people will associate with either Trump or Mussolini (there’s also a random reference to Henry II of England thrown into the mix because why not?). Meanwhile, Laurence Fishbourne is wasted as Catalina’s right-hand man. Perhaps to give him some purpose, he is also the narrator of the film, which is a tad pointless when several of his lines are blatantly written across the screen as he’s reading it out. Talia Shire devours the scenery as Catalina’s put-upon mother, giving possibly the most baffling performance of her entire career. And that’s before even mentioning the mess that is Jon Voight as Cesar Catalina’s rich uncle Crassus (GROAN). The only one who seems to be holding their own is Aubrey Plaza as an ambitious journalist named Wow Platinum (presumably because Coppola ran out of obvious Roman references). She starts off as Catalina’s lover before he casts her aside, whereupon she promptly goes to Crassus and becomes his trophy wife instead. She is the closest thing to a well-developed villain that the film has, manipulating and threatening the characters around her. Unfortunately, it’s all in the name of her being a treacherous gold-digger.
Much like Apocalypse Now, this film has already become infamous for the troubled and long-delayed production from which it was birthed. Coppola managed to completely self-finance this production with a whopping $120 million. Excluding the rumours which have plagued this film’s release, one cannot help but admire the zeal which Coppola still displays in his 80s. It’s the same sort of drive which allowed him to overcome the obstacles which stood in the way of The Godfather, Dracula, and Apocalypse Now. With this film, however, Coppola has clearly hit his wall. For all the time that the film spent in development hell, the story feels like something a history student threw together for their elective film course. It is a mess which has divided audiences, with many praising it despite its flaws, and others disagreeing on what its flaws actually are. Such is the reputation of Coppola, a man who has helped shape cinema for the last fifty years.
Doubtless, Coppola will stand by this film until his dying day. He is certainly entitled to do so, and after everything he sacrificed to finally see his film get made, he will doubtless find it entirely worthwhile. And frankly, many will see this as a triumph of independent filmmaking. Perhaps it is, and perhaps it’s worth seeing just to behold the insane spectacle of it all. From the very start of the film, where Coppola pretentiously defines Megalopolis as “A Fable”, one can see that Coppola wanted to make something which had a lot to say about… well, about what? The fall of Rome? The current state of the U.S.? The dangers of fascism manipulating the masses? The importance of planning for the future? All of it is too clumsy and/or too ridiculous to be taken seriously. One might be reminded of Julie Taymor’s film Titus, which portrayed Rome as both ancient and modern simultaneously, making for a jarring timelessness which complimented Taylor’s subtext on the subject of violence and revenge. One might also be reminded of Robert Edwards’ Land of the Blind, that deeply underrated film which combined various elements of history to comment on political upheavals and revolutions. Both these films were unconventional, using many of the same tricks which , but they were far more focused and interesting than Megalopolis. Coppola has made it clear that he wanted this film to spark conversations and debate. Unfortunately for him, it feels like most of the conversation this film will spark is how tragic it is that this is how his swan song turned out.