by Robert Bouffard, Editor

There’s a picture of Steven Spielberg, Martin Scorsese, Brian De Palma, George Lucas, Robert Zemeckis, and Francis Ford Coppola at Lucas’ 50th birthday party, and I think about it a lot. Those six directors have made some of the greatest and most iconic films of all time, and were pioneers of the New Hollywood of the ‘70s and ‘80s. 50 years later, it’s interesting to note whose legacies have continued. Spielberg and Scorsese have made some of the best movies of each of the last five decades, De Palma and Zemeckis’ careers have either been completely unremarkable (De Palma) or so confounding that you question his abilities (Zemeckis) for about 25 years, and Lucas hasn’t directed a widely released movie since Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith, as his Star Wars prequels were so widely reviled that it tragically caused him to be completely turned off to making movies for public consumption.

Coppola would be roughly in the same category of De Palma and Zemeckis if it weren’t for the newly released Megalopolis, which has been gestating in his mind for over 40 years, and whose script went through over 300 drafts. Development, pre-production, and financing were so difficult for Coppola that he ultimately spent $120 million of his own money to get the film across the finish line. The dedication is admirable, especially at this scale, and it’s the main informational tidbit that makes his latest effort particularly notable.

Though, once you sit down to watch Megalopolis, its long, arduous journey to the big screen begins to make a lot more sense. The film dubs itself a fable, as it envisions an alternate New York City, New Rome. It’s set in New York City’s current location, but things look a little more futuristic than they do in 2024. Although everything looks all cool and fancy, many of the same issues which plague both modern society and the Roman Empire are still present. Massive economic inequality and what is essentially an oligarchy are hallmarks of the city. 

So in an effort at improvement, Mayor Cicero (Giancarlo Esposito) proposes a new casino. Totally unimpressed, Cesar Catalina’s (Adam Driver) alternative is a utopia made from the magical (?) material, Megalon. Cesar’s essentially the self-insert character for Coppola — he’s presented as a tortured yet rich genius whose ideas are kept from being put into effect at every turn by those who have the power to enact them. 

It would seem like this is a fairly straightforward premise for a movie, yet the story feels like it’s about so many things that it doesn’t have a thesis beyond… the power of friendship? Because there’s the critique of excess and the exploration of the tortured artist, but there’s also rage bait journalism, sex appeal, charismatic fascists, romance, and a whole host of other little bits. Despite Coppola spending so long with this idea — or perhaps because of it — he still apparently didn’t feel complete ownership over it, allowing for onset improvisation; that fluidity is definitely felt, as sometimes it comes across that entire scenes are missing to connect narrative threads, which adds to the film’s overall lack of cohesion. 

Now, it’s clear that a straightforward narrative wasn’t really on the forefront of Coppola’s mind — nor was profitability, as I’m sure the dismally low box office returns thus far don’t faze him. In a surprisingly similar way to those Star Wars prequels, Coppola seems more concerned with Megalopolis’ style, allowing its substance to be born of that. The opulence of the New Rome aristocracy doesn’t stand out in its practicality — like it would in a Robert Eggers film, for instance — but in its imagination. It’s obvious much of the film was shot in front of a green screen, but it’s the aesthetic Coppola was after, which is at least worth considering. 

Because Megalopolis ostensibly being a magnum opus is what gives it notability. All movies exist within their context, and Coppola’s longstanding refusal to adhere to standard filmmaking practice is part of his allure. Megalopolis is far, far away from the quality of The Godfather, Apocalypse Now, or even Bram Stoker’s Dracula, but even when his formal experimenting (at the ripe age of 85, no less!) had my head spinning and my mind confused, I kept in mind one of Cesar Catalina’s many pompous aphorisms: that the inventor of pigs in a blanket should win the Nobel Prize. I’m kidding, though that is something Catalina says in the movie. Actually: “I will not let time have dominion over my thoughts.” It’s the single idea that really sticks out as fully formed and coherent: The biological clocks of our bodies can’t hold us back from questioning why things are the way they are. And we likely won’t even be around to reap the benefits of our questioning, because those pesky clocks run out for all of us, but our ideas and our actions can leave a legacy. In a world where “the big three” are economics, journalism, and sex appeal (so says Talia Shire’s character, mother of Cesar), we can’t let that be enough, because continuing to push the boundaries of creativity — both in how to move forward societally and artistically — is of utmost importance. 

And Cesar being Coppola’s self-insert comes into play here, as the character, who the film initially seems skeptical of due to how he treats some of the women in his life, is eventually lionized, as it’s his ideas which are able to bridge the gap between himself and Cicero (who, at one point, is curiously referred to as Francis within the movie itself). With Coppola bringing his own heavy baggage — most notably reports of inappropriate behavior towards the women on the set of the movie of which he was the final arbiter — it’s certainly valid to read Megalopolis as brushing off such previous transgressions in the name of art and innovation. Trying to reconcile that as a viewer is inherently messy, yet it’s not dissimilar to watching and thinking about Apocalypse Now while understanding the context that Hearts of Darkness: A Filmmaker’s Apocalypse provides, showing everything that went on while the former was being made — it ran the gamut from morally questionable to downright heinous.

When it comes down to it, Megalopolis is such a fascinating artifact because of its director. Coppola has spent his career pushing boundaries, and continues to do so (for the last time?) into his 80s, on his own dime ($120 million worth of them). As a lover of movies and follower of the art form and industry, this feels momentous. There’s an unbridled freedom and earnestness that only someone in his position could buy, and it’s underlined by a darker underbelly of history. A movie like this — well, this is kind of the only movie like this, given its context — is something that should be simultaneously appreciated and critiqued. It transcends the idea of a big swing because of that context, and it leaves its viewer with a giant mess to try and digest. 

Rating: Liked It

Megalopolis is currently playing in theaters


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