Megalopolis (2024) Review

It's finally here. Francis Ford Coppola's Megalopolis (2024). It feels surreal just typing it out, but it's here. This is the underdog story we screw-the-studios film bros have long been waiting for: a passion project by a legendary director who financed it out of his own pocket. Its production wasn't without trouble; controversies were piling up so quickly that, at one point, there were doubts that this film would even be able to make it into North American cinemas. But the good news is, it's here, and it is everything you would expect it to be. The bad news is, as you're oh-wowing through the 2 hours of this fever dream of a film, you will realize why it couldn't have been produced any other way.

In Coppola's version of New York, which he calls New Rome, a visionary architect, Cesar Catilina (Adam Driver), finds his plans for a Utopian future challenged by the city's regressive mayor, Cicero (Giancarlo Esposito). The two rivals must learn to co-exist when the mayor's daughter, Julia (Nathalie Emmanuel), falls in love with Catilina. At the same time, Cesar faces jealousy-spun revenge from his cousin (Shia LaBeouf), who is obsessed with Julia, all the while his power-hungry mistress (Aubrey Plaza) plots a takeover of his rich uncle (Jon Voight)'s bank.

There goes my best attempt at a plot summary, but as you'll realize while watching the film, it's way less interested in telling you a story than indulging you in its ideas and messages. If it hasn't been made any more obvious by Laurence Fishburne's classy narration and the in-your-face inter-titles, the cliche plot and subplots are merely frameworks tailored to hold what an overtly opinionated director has to say about the world.

So, if you hold Coppola to his Godfather and Apocalypse Now level of character-building, you'd be very disappointed. Driver's character was given a "his wife died" backstory, but showing you his grieving isn't enough; Coppola just has to get a character to tell you "he still loves her..." We get the filmmaker has a lot to say, but it's like he forgot that subtlety existed. There's nothing more to Cesar Catilina than just a genius who gets a little high sometimes; Esposito delivers a different variation of "I hate you but love my daughter" every few minutes. But hey, it's about how America is basically Rome these days!

With one-dimensional characters, you get one-dimensional performances. LaBeouf, Plaza and Emmauel appeared terribly confined by their half-baked characters. In the Q&A before the screening, Coppola talked at length about rehearsing with actors, but the movie gives you the feeling he hasn't done too much of it. With how archetypal the characters are, there's really no reason for it. However, you can always count on Driver to give it everything he's got. At times, it is almost comical to see how much he's putting into this favourless character. Giancarlo Esposito continues to be the best of everything he's a part of. However, there really just isn't much to discuss when it comes to the acting in this film.

One thing I wasn't expecting, though, was how funny the film turned out to be. As you're laughing, you know that more likely than not, Coppola never meant for this to be funny. The way people talk to each other in the movie is strangely comical (even when they're not quoting Shakespeare). At a certain point, I found myself pondering whether Coppola was out of touch on human interaction in the 21st century, but I suppose this is a "heightened reality" film at the end of the day.

Despite all its flaws, the film leans on the visuals to keep you entertained throughout the movie. You can tell half of the movie is shot on a green screen, but still, the art direction is spectacular. In a scene, we see Cesar in a car against a gloomy nightscape, arriving at a glowingly warm flower shop that's almost lit under daylight. The result is a dream-like scenery that perfectly paints Cesar's past as a beacon of light in his present. Excessiveness is one of the main parallels between New York and Rome, and Coppola does not hold back from driving this point home with visual flourishes. He is so committed to it that scenes that sensually exhaust you drag on, and you can't help but let out a sigh of relief every time you're given a chance.

Through its mumbling of nonsensical technical jargon, Megalopolis is very keen to serve you a message of faith in the power of humanity. The protagonist embodies artistic creativity and the genius of engineering all at once. He is not perfect, but he is here to lead us to a better future. Even with its abundant literary references, the film (and, by proxy, the filmmaker himself) appears sadly naive. If you take a step back, you'll find that it offers no realistic solutions to social issues. Driver's Cesar is hopelessly pure in his noble intentions and has his rich uncle's unlimited resources to execute his vision. All pushbacks against him are portrayed as evil. I guess that's why Coppola labelled it "a fable" and just left it at that.

Megalopolis is very obviously a passion project. Its daring formal experiments keep you intrigued yet suffocate you in their excessiveness, and the film falls incredibly flat in story and character. Its message of "just let the visionaries do their thing" is far from perfect but ends up filling you with a sense of warmth and hope for a better future. I don't think many of us are rushing to call it a masterpiece, but if you're curious, you really should experience it yourself (and preferably, on an IMAX screen). Love it or hate it, Megalopolis is a once in a lifetime event. I don't think there'll be another director-financed film any time soon.

If you're interested, Paul has a video on the channel where he talks about the film's production and controversies!