I’ve never been shy to admit that I prefer it when movies take bold concepts and swing for the fences, regardless of whether or not the concept truly lands. I mainly feel this way because I’ve never forgotten the feeling I get when watching said concept land with perfect finesse. Personally, even if the movie ends up having myriad other problems, I’ll always appreciate the risk of really going for an idea in hopes that it’ll connect with an audience, like a bat sending a baseball flying with a satisfying crack.
That being said, I’ve always had a couple lingering questions around that belief: how would it feel if a movie was made solely of bold concepts? Could a film with the intent to constantly swing away in hopes of landing at least one idea ultimately be a worthwhile experience if most of those other ideas miss the mark?
Usually, it would be difficult to answer those questions. However, in 2024, we’ve gotten a film that perfectly captures the essence of this dilemma—one that not only marks the return of an American film icon but also the culmination of over four decades of time, effort, and perseverance. A film that the icon didn’t know if he could make in the modern era of cinema. That film is none other than Francis Ford Coppola’s Megalopolis: a long-awaited epic that shows the true danger of trying to have your cake and eat it too.
Megalopolis is a fable that follows the modern city of New Rome, mainly focusing on an ensemble of prominent figures that shape the city every day. That ensemble includes current leader of New Rome Mayor Cicero (Giancarlo Esposito), media mogul Wow Platinum (Aubrey Plaza), billionaire Hamilton Crassus III (Jon Voight), and Crassus’ nieces and nephews with the most controversial being the debaucherous Clodio Pulcher (Shia LaBeouf). These figures live in comfort as New Rome begins to crumble around them, showing an unrest and anger that intentionally mimics the fall of the original Rome. To these figures, civil unrest is just part of everyday life. In America, nothing can truly fall, right?
Another prominent figure in New Rome would disagree: Cesar Catilina (Adam Driver). One of Crassus’ nephews, Cesar has grown to his own heights thanks to the idea of a beautiful utopia named Megalopolis: the next step in civilization that’ll build a city with the ability to adapt and grow with its inhabitants. However, Mayor Cicero’s daughter Julia (Nathalie Emmanuel) is one of many dissenters that doesn’t truly believe in the fantasy that Cesar wishes to build. Is Megalopolis just a fantasy? Or will the artist be able to fully bring his wondrous vision to life in order to save a decaying city?
While discussing his approach to Megalopolis at the 62nd New York Film Festival this year, Coppola claimed that he wanted to discover his true style as a director while working on his magnum opus. If that’s the case, Megalopolis reveals to all audiences that Coppola’s true style is the “kitchen sink” method: throw every visual, cut, transition, gag, story beat, and trope that you’d like to see in a movie and throw it on-screen regardless of its effectiveness. Keep in mind that my brief synopsis of Megalopolis in the last two paragraphs is a lot more succinct than what the film gives you at first glance. It’s the type of film that will treat its dramatic moments with unearned sincerity almost as consistently as it will introduce a side plot, focus on that plot for way too long, and then ultimately throw it away when it’s interested in the main story again. There’s at least two instances in the film where a monumental moment is supposed to shake up the entire narrative… only to be resolved in five minutes and hardly be addressed again.
That’s not even touching on the muddled relationship dynamics between Cesar and his obnoxiously rich family, the rushed love story between Cesar and Julia, the film’s reluctance to build out Megalopolis as an interesting concept for a future city, or the fact that Cesar’s ability to stop actual time is bafflingly treated like an afterthought. There’s so much going on in the film, yet nothing feels like it has any real consequences or emotional weight, leaving the main cast to feel underdeveloped for the majority of the film. The film also barely fleshes out its thematic ideas regarding the evils of greed, the inevitable destruction that comes with change, the danger of putting your creative focus through the lens of a single strong emotion, the fear of not having enough time in life to create something impactful, or the importance of believing in hope at a time in which despair is all around us. For a film that is filled to the brim with so much of what is clearly on Coppola’s mind about modern-day America, it’s a genuine shame that it all ultimately feels like Megalopolis has as much to say on these topics as a fortune cookie has to say about a person’s future.
Amidst plenty of other problems, two of its most glaring issues are its visuals and performances. While there are some genuinely creative shots woven throughout (some of the only moments that land), it’s no surprise that the best shots were used for the trailers because the rest of the film feels surprisingly lacking in style for how grandiose it wants to be. From unnecessary Dutch angles to cityscape footage that feels like stock, the film’s visual style struggles to balance itself between a neutered Baz Luhrmann film, the shots Coppola probably sketched out decades ago, and the best medium shots they could get in a crowded scene. The final product ends up being most consistent at being inconsistent, creating both an aesthetic and tone that can starkly shift depending on the scene. Again, it comes together in certain scenes, but those occurrences are so few and far between that I’d still have a few unused fingers if I counted them on both hands.
However, the cherry atop this bold fable’s sundae is how absolutely astounding it is to lack even a single good performance in its vast sea of talent. Megalopolis has everything: a hilariously bad lead performance by Adam Driver (which, personally, I really don’t blame him for); underwritten characters with very little emotional weight (Esposito and Emmanuel); an Aubrey Plaza turn that is shouldered with some of the most embarrassing dialogue in the entire film; the worst performance I think I’ve ever seen from Shia LaBeouf; and a small role from a veteran actor that is, unironically, comparable to Carolyn Minnott’s performance as Claudette in Tommy Wiseau’s The Room. (No, I’m not joking.)
Megalopolis shows that there’s not enough talent in the world to counterbalance a script that makes its characters disjointed, boring, and weird for the sake of being weird. You can give Laurence Fishburne a hundred monologues; Megalopolis will still be one of the worst implementations of a talented ensemble I’ve seen all year.
While watching the film, it’s hard to not think of Coppola’s last big passion project that was supposed to wow the world: 1981’s One from the Heart. It was an original romance musical with immensely creative and entertaining camerawork that has barely left my brain since I watched it. I wasn’t expecting Megalopolis to be One from the Heart, but I’m genuinely shocked at how the modern epic has taken the same problems its predecessor had forty years ago and inflated them to a ridiculous size. Megalopolis is a passion project that’ll be the future poster child for the dangers of unbridled creative control—a film that studios may well cite as a reason to stifle future directors fighting for the same type of scale. Its entertainment value dwindles when the film starts to feel like three hours instead of just over two, keeping your brain from shutting down because of how shockingly mundane so much of its grand proceedings feel.
In a way, it’s nice to see that Coppola was able to bring his long-awaited vision to the big screen after spending decades thinking it would never come to fruition. It’s a rare occasion to see an auteur of so many classic films come back from a hiatus to put up his own money and create a sprawling, glossy epic touting not only an IMAX release but even special screenings where a form of live theater participation is implemented. It’s just a shame that the final product is bloated to the point where I don’t think it’s even worth giving it the time of day in a theater. I’d honestly rather watch the four-hour cut of Apocalypse Now in one sitting again (or even give the original version of Godfather: Part III a fair shot) than ever go back to Coppola’s modern “magnum opus.”
Overall, I’m glad Francis Ford Coppola got his vision made. There might not be another film release like Megalopolis for years to come. It’s just unfortunate that such a film—full of passion, time, and determination—is one of the worst of 2024.
Freelance writer out of Indianapolis. Co-host of Odd Trilogies podcast. Whether it's films or television, I'm always down to watch!