Megalopolis Is Coppola’s Biggest Bomb

Megalopolis is the final note in the storied career of Francis Ford Coppola. It’s unlikely, though not improbable, that the 85-year-old director will helm another full-length feature. Concluding his career with a film he’s tried to make for decades has a certain aura of success. Yet, that may be all the accomplishment Megalopolis can manifest.

Cesar Catilina, played by Adam Driver (Ferrari), hopes to better the city of New Rome. However, politicians and oligarchs stand in the way of his utopian vision. They prefer the decaying city’s status quo which keeps them powerful and wealthy. Meanwhile, a romance entwines Cesar with a socialite played by Nathalie Emmanuel (Game of Thrones).

The sprawling story is loosely inspired by the Catilinarian Conspiracy. Several roles flesh out a film criticizing a kaleidoscopic array of social woes while a wearisome love interest plays out. Synopsizing Megalopolis gives a misleading impression of order it lacks. Unintentionally chaotic, the feature never flows. It often feels like they filmed a lot then tried to cobble together a story in postproduction.

Megalopolis strives to make grand statements about society using the Roman Empire to fuel metaphors and satirical allusions. However, the costume decisions are the best use of these historical influences. Coppola rarely trusts the audience to interpret any allusive references, so he renders them rather bluntly. That would be okay if they achieved the artistry or entertainment which he managed with Apocalypse Now (1979).

Several mixed themes are expressed with earnest sentimentality. Where they fail is their presentation. For instance, Cesar addresses an angry mob, preaching to them about utopian equality, while literally talking down to them from atop a golden building. Multiple unrefined ideas result in satirical cudgels bludgeoning the audience into boredom. Strangely, the film implies empires must fall so better societies can be built on their ashes, yet the movie wants to be a cautionary tale to stop the rot specifically within the United States. It’s a call for revolution that aims to prevent the revolution it says is needed, while aiming at universality through culturally specific examples.

When it comes to dialogue, Coppola knows others have said it best. Perhaps that’s why one scene is Nathalie Emmanuel quoting Marcus Aurelius. But this leaves the impression viewers should simply be reading him, or Shakespeare, or whoever else Coppola quotes. Meanwhile, original conversations in Megalopolis are bland declarations of feelings, ideas, and more egregiously, how viewers should interpret what they’re seeing. Charitably, it often sounds comical.

Shia LaBeouf (Honey Boy) seems immune to the bad dialogue. Most of the star-studded cast is clearly giving all they’ve got. Consequently, Adam Driver reaches Nicolas Cage levels of overacting, particularly during delirious scenes that are more cinematic spectacle than meaningful storytelling. Aubrey Plaza (Parks and Recreation) and Nathalie Emmanuel could have provided interesting characters if their roles didn’t get reduced to femme fatale seductress and bland romantic interest. Instead, performers tend to trip over a flawed script which causes characters to seem more ludicrous than complex. Maybe that’s why there’s so much ham acting this flick could open a deli.

Dustin Hoffman (Hook) brings some old school gravity to the role of Nush Berman, the mayor’s fixer. He delivers lines meant to insinuate the start of political intrigue, but events happen offscreen and amount to zero making the entire part pointless. Giancarlo Esposito (Breaking Bad) plays Mayor Cicero. He’s a great example of a character Coppola tried to give nuance. However, poor writing undermines the quality of Esposito’s performance. Good acting rarely overcomes bad lines.

From “The Godfather Waltz” to the needle drops in Apocalypse Now, even the gothic ambience of Bram Stoker’s Dracula, Coppola understands the importance of music. Megalopolis aims for orchestral grandeur. At best, it sounds like the free classical music that comes with cheap video editing software. At worst, the soundtrack doesn’t enhance a scene, set the mood, or come across as memorable.

Taken individually, there are some intriguing moments of cinematic stylization. The technical skill necessary to compose them warrants a certain praise. But anyone familiar with Coppola’s career knows there’s nothing here he hasn’t done before. Megalopolis has plenty of visuals which lack poetry; they look good without saying much if anything.

At risk of editorializing, films can’t be judged as individual pieces. The alchemy that makes them entertaining is how they combine in totality. And fancy mechanics don’t excuse dreadful narrative, middling acting, or unsubtle philosophical diatribes.

Megalopolis is bound to be divisive. Audiences will divide between those who can see the film for the flaming garbage train it is, flying off the tracks into a jagged canyon below, and the kind of people who do mental backflips to justify a legend’s failure. Writer-director Francis Ford Coppola sold a winery he didn’t need for $500 million to give us a film about how the rich are only concerned with their own private ambitions. There’s a cognitive disconnect there which almost explains this whole movie.

Yet, Megalopolis will undoubtedly have its champions despite being obviously awful. Besides cinephiles turning a blind eye, I’ve seen people on social media believing this will live on much like the comically awful midnight movie The Room (2003). Some cinematic flair notwithstanding, Megalopolis is the closest to an objective failure art can get.

That may inspire a certain morbid curiosity to see a film no one needs to watch. Megalopolis confuses unnecessary complexity with cleverness and offers little of interest other than meaningless eye candy during its 138-minute run. As a critic, professional ethics dictate I stay for the whole film. Otherwise, I would’ve walked out. Unless you need to win a bet, you can do something better with your time.