#74: Megalopolis
Release Date: September 27th, 2024
Format: Theater (Cinemark at The Pike Outlets in Long Beach, CA)
Written by: Francis Ford Coppola
Directed by: Francis Ford Coppola
2 Stars
I found myself sort of rushing home to write this review, and not in a good way. I wanted to quickly capture my primary thoughts and feelings on this important movie before any sort of mental gymnastics could take place in my mind, where I began justifying and making amends with Francis Ford Coppola’s visionary tale.
I’m home now, so here it goes: Megalopolis doesn’t work. There, I said it. It doesn’t work.
And it especially doesn’t work as a narrative. Baruch and I discussed this on the walk home through downtown. He thinks that Megalopolis is an allegory for Christ, if he had not been crucified (or been saved from his crucifixion, much like Adam Driver’s character, Cesar Catilina, is saved by a radical medical innovation after an attempt on his life). I think Baruch may be right. It didn’t occur to me while watching the movie, but I think it may be that simple.
A futuristic allegory of Christ saving the downfall of Rome by battling the establishment and the rise of fascism is an interesting idea on an intellectual level, but the problem with Coppola’s script is that there is shocking lack of narrative tension. I felt almost nothing as I watched the movie. My mind was activated, but my heart was still. There are some incredible visuals, but they mostly washed over me as I tried to find a heartbeat in these characters.
And when I say characters I’m being generous. These are archetypes: The genius savior and his star-crossed lover; the powerful patriarch; the sensible, if short-sighted politician; the Judas; the Lady Macbeth; the flamboyant, spoiled grandson seeking power. At 138 minutes, you’d think I’d feel something towards these people bound in a struggle for power over human civilization. Nope.
So if Megalopolis doesn’t work as a narrative, maybe it works as an intellectual exercise? Granted, I may have missed something here, but the theme of the film seems practical rather than ambitious. The visual granduer seems to imply a much bigger idea than is actually there. What I gathered from the film is that we, human beings, should honor each other and the animals we protect, and look out for our children.
How did I come away with this? Well, Coppola writes it in big letters across the screen as the movie ends. And Lawrence Fishburne reads it out loud for the audience, just in case you’ve been resting your eyes as the movie comes to a close.
There are a few slightly embarrassing moments in the film, but this one might be the worst culprit.
So what’s the Coppola legacy, now that he’s in his mid-80s and he just blew $136 million of his own money on a visionary fable that is underwhelming at best? He’s clearly a filmmaker that does his best work under the gun. The Godfather, The Godfather Pt. II, The Conversation, and Apocalypse Now were all made under some sort of personal, professional, or financial duress (they also happen to have been made during the same 10-year span when Coppola was a much, much younger man).
I see Coppola as probably the truest artist of the “New Hollywood” generation of directors that emerged from the late ‘60s. Scorsese is the New York City cinephile, Spielberg the visionary storyteller, Lucas the world building super nerd, De Palma the hard-edged and hard-headed taskmaster. And Coppola is the artist, the romanticist intrigued by the human condition.
I’m appreciative that he made a big budget movie (with his own money no less) that is original and at least explores big ideas. Thank you, Mr. Coppola.
But like many great artists, Coppola works better under constraints, not without them. Megalopolis is Exhibit A.
