by Elisa Giudici
Megalopolis © 2024 Caesar Film LLC.
Francis Ford Coppola returns with a film that is already legendary even before its release, featuring a story that spans decades and a production so infamous and troubled that it warrants a film of its own. That nonexistent feature could have outshone Megalopolis, which, despite its high expectations, will be remembered in this year's Cannes Film Festival history as a major disappointment...
Coppola can take solace in the possibility that this might be another film which, like Bram Stoker's Dracula, will be hailed as a cult classic 20 or 30 years from now, despite its initial divisiveness. However, the technical shortcomings and narrative flaws of Megalopolis make this hard to imagine. What is certain is that, if advancements in technology, medicine, and sheer will allow, Coppola hopes to be around to witness a potential delayed triumph in the future.
At its most genuine and perhaps most successful moments, Megalopolis serves as an allegory for a man who knows he has created something significant. He understands he has defied his mortality, managing to preserve not his physical self, but at least his artistic essence. In the film, Coppola's alter ego, played by Adam Driver, can literally halt the flow of time with a snap of his fingers.
Driver's character, Cesar, is a Nobel Prize-winning architect who dreams of transforming his megalopolis into a utopian city. However, like Coppola, he struggles to articulate his vision in an organic, clear, and concrete manner. The film frequently discusses utopia versus contemporary pragmatism and materialism, but it remains unclear what future Coppola envisions for his New Rome, for his America.
More powerful, yet somewhat naive, are other passages that reveal Coppola's perspectives on the world. The film's female characters are starkly divided into saints and whores, all inexplicably drawn to Cesar. They are portrayed not as women, but as handmaidens, in a film that declares love as the creative force behind both the protagonist's and the director's talent, yet it is an old-fashioned notion of love, where a genius is inspired by his muse.
A major flaw of Megalopolis, a city filled with beautiful women in tunics, is its lack of vision and personality. There is no real world-building: the connections to ancient Rome are merely visual references that appear plastered over a poor imitation of Gotham City, corrupted and degraded. It’s curious how the film simultaneously evokes Batman and Superman, foundational American heroes. The material that earned Cesar the Nobel Prize, the Megalon, is theoretically powerful, but its properties are as vague as its inventor's utopian vision. Throughout the film, Adam Driver's concept for Megalopolis closely resembles Metropolis, and the Megalon, intended to realize this vision, nearly becomes kryptonite.
The overall impression is that Coppola doesn't lack enthusiasm or vision but needs to moderate both. Buried within Megalopolis is a potentially great film, much like Adam Driver is a great actor who is misled by overly emotional tones and exaggerated monologues. Aubrey Plaza faces the same issue, trying to flow naturally with the film but not succeeding without becoming a caricature. She struggles, whereas Shia LaBeouf excels, handling many of the excessive scenes as if they were Shakespearean drama. In conflict and contrast, he thrives and stands out as the best performer in a film that indulges in excess.