There is a refreshing idealism Megalopolis. In an era overflowing with grim, nihilistic postapocalyptic stories, Francis Ford Coppola’s latest film is a retrofuturistic parable about creating a better world through architecture, science, and dreams. Unfortunately, that glow fades quickly. The film wants the audience to imagine an idealistic future. But its vision for that future is so vague as to be meaningless. For all its good intentions, Megalopolis is a confusing, bloated disaster.
This shouldn’t come as too much of a surprise, as the lead-up to the film’s release has been largely devoted to one controversy after another. There was a long development period, with director Coppola working on the film in some form since 1982, forced to self-finance the entire $120 million production as the studios passed on it. There were reports of inappropriate behavior on set (and a subsequent lawsuit), specifically hiring actors “who were canceled at one point or another,” and all the fake AI-generated review quotes. The four-decade process of bringing Megalopolis in theaters was a complete mess, as was the movie itself.
Now, this is the part of the review where I usually give a clear summary of what the movie is about. It’s not that easy Megalopolisbecause it borders on nonsense. It takes place in an alternate universe setting called New Rome City and centers on a war of ideas between Mayor Cicero (Giancarlo Esposito) and Cesar (Adam Driver), the seat of the Design Authority (like a very powerful group of architects. who are treated like rock stars for some reason). Cicero wanted to keep New Rome as it was, a functional but not particularly spectacular place that could use a profitable new casino. Caesar wants to rebuild it as a fantastical utopia which, yes, is called Megalopolis.
The idea is pretty clear: America is a lot like Ancient Rome at its peak, a place full of excess and indulgence (shown by everyone doing a lot of coke) that’s also headed for a historic fall from grace. Megalopolis is trying to ask if there is another way. It doesn’t necessarily have any answers, but it really wants to ask.
Almost all aspects of Megalopolis — both the film and the fictional city at its heart — feel completely underdeveloped, despite being in the works for so long. New Rome City, for example, is literally just New York City with an eternal golden hue. People drive modern cars, use QR codes, and read New Rome Post. No creative design could make for an intriguing parallel to our own world, aside from the occasional chariot race.
What’s worse is Cesar, who is the core of the movie. He’s an architectural genius, which you know because everyone calls him a genius and because he won the Nobel Prize for creating a magical building material that’s basically magic. (It can be used to create fantastical cities and clothing that renders the wearer invisible and doubles as a handy cure for bullet wounds.) Cesar has the ability to stop time when he is inspired by his muse, who happens to be Cicero’s daughter, played by Nathalie Emmanuel. This superpower is not explained literally or thematically and doesn’t really affect the story in any way. It’s just there.
Cesar doesn’t do anything that looks smart. He often quotes Shakespeare at length and says things like “what binds power also stores it” during design meetings. It’s unclear how his dream city will be financed or built or how it will address real-world issues like income inequality or unemployment, aside from giving every adult their own personal garden I’m not asking for a Megalopolis blueprint, but nothing in the concept of the city is more than the depth of a “The World If” meme. When Cicero questions whether Caesar’s city is realistic and meets some philosophical thought, I find myself siding with the crooked mayor. Like Coppola, Cesar is only interested in questions, not answers. But it’s also not a story about one man’s tragic, idealistic pride — at least his dream works.
It might be generous to describe it Megalopolis as everything has a story. Coppola said he collected thousands of clippings from newspapers and magazines while developing the script. And that’s exactly what the film feels like: like a series of ideas strung together, with no real narrative binding them together. Things just happen. A satellite crashed into New Rome despite long predictions that it would hit Labrador. When Cicero heard that the city was about to be reached, he asked, “What shall we do?” Then suddenly the scene ended without an answer.
The story is not all, of course, but it is not like Megalopolis has many other redeeming qualities. The acting is slick and sloppy, the performers seem as confused by what’s going on as the audience. The dialogue oscillates between painfully obvious allegory and painfully juvenile jokes. You can imagine how bad the sex scenes are. Most of it is also just plain dumb. Aubrey Plaza plays a platinum blonde reporter named Wow Platinum, while Cesar’s uncle Crassus (Jon Voight) hides weapons behind his stand. These moments are funny, but it’s unclear if they give how serious the rest of the film is.
There are some intriguing moments. At one point in the theater experience, the lights came back on so a real theater actor could lip-sync questions a reporter was asking Cesar at a press conference. (How this will play out in wide release or when the film hits Blu-ray and streaming services is unclear.) But mostly, this is the kind of movie that makes a viewer laugh unintentionally.
I can appreciate the sentiment behind it Megalopolis — hell, that’s what the world can really use today. It may have been conceived in the ’80s, but the film’s core feels contemporary. It’s a shame that the rest of the film — its story, characters, acting, and dialogue — did nothing but get in the way. If Coppola couldn’t clearly express that vision in 40 years of work, there’s no way I could understand it in two and a half hours.
Megalopolis hits theaters on September 27th.
