MIDNIGHT REVIEWS Megalopolis Review
The only movie which was guaranteed to have an eight-hour cut somewhere along the line.
Megalopolis (2hr 18mins)
Directed by: Francis Ford Coppola
Featuring: Adam Driver, Nathalie Emmanuel, Giancarlo Esposito
Synopsis: New Rome is at a crossroads. One route, favoured by famed artist Cesar Catilina (Driver), promises a utopia. The other route, favoured by unpopular mayor Franklyn Cicero (Esposito), is more conservative amid fears that Cesar’s way leads to ruin. Stuck between them is the mayor’s daughter Julia (Emmanuel).
Review: Megalopolis, from the first frame, lets us know that it has some big ideas it wants to talk about. A large number of very large ideas. From the first of several ostentatious title cards, giving us room to breathe between speeches lifted from Hamlet and diatribes on the nature of art, Coppola has a lot to say.
Cesar, world famous architect and creator of a new material Megalon (better than Unobtanium, I guess), wishes to recreate the world and lead humankind into a utopia, utopia here defined as a place where people are free to ask the right questions, free to better themselves so that they can discuss the finer things in life like art, architecture and how to make millions from the wine business. Cicero, mayor but unpopular among the people, fears that this will lead to dystopia, that Cesar’s intentions are good but that he is missing the realist’s touch; that humankind will always destroy itself even if allowed to live in Eden. There is also incest, a sleazy Dustin Hoffman and a television host called Wow Platinum (an excellent Aubrey Plaza).
Many critics have been saying Megalopolis is a mess, as if that automatically qualifies as a bad thing.
Some of the conversation around this film has, at times, seemed to reduce Megalopolis to bitesize snippets. The fact that she’s called Wow Platinum, in this world, makes perfect sense. It’s not out of place in a world such as this, one that is a stand-in for ours and in certain ways not far from it. Coppola is saying that business people and those afraid of conversation have always led to the downfall of civilization, whether they’re wearing waist coats or togas.
Many critics have been saying Megalopolis is a mess, as if that automatically qualifies as a bad thing. Most films don’t survive being a mess, but Megalopolis somehow does. It is, for better or worse, what happens when a strong artist leaves a story to gestate over decades; it is a sprawling, confused piece that doesn’t quite know where it wants to land. Unsurprisingly, some of it is glorious, remarkable in its simplicity and other parts are self-indulgent, bizarre and, frankly, poorly produced. This film is a fable, if only because it shows what happens when the money people are removed from the equation and a singular artist allows themselves room to breathe and then some.
Lots of feedback from critics claim the movie is political in nature. While it comments on the issues of the day (New Rome standing in for the United States as a whole; Shia LaBeouf’s character leading very Trumpian rallies partway through), the film comes across as a lot more personal in nature than anything else.
Coppola has had a life at least partly defined by his films being greeted with lukewarm reviews followed years later by revisions that state ‘actually he’s a genius.’ Success coming long after disappointment. He leans into this as Cesar’s ideas are misunderstood before we see him, shot from a low angle, standing in front of a crowd being hailed as a visionary.
Driver does at times appear miscast.
Contrasting this, the political aspects of the film sometimes, not always, comes across as nothing more than surface level. CEOs and fixers merely act as stand-ins for Coppola’s critics or those he’s worked with. In a fit of aforementioned self-indulgence, but with enough dramatic irony just to get by, Coppola has one of them crushed by concrete. A banker with enough money to buy the planet has a revelation and realises Cesar has been right all along. To say Coppola has thrown subtlety away would be an understatement.
Coppola’s stand-in, Cesar, has in ill-defined aim, despite constantly talking about his goal of creating a better place for humanity. The ultimate realist vs dreamer representation. As far as we can tell, his plans involve using a new material to create what looks like Donald Trump’s EPCOT centre; dozens of buildings knocked down in order for Adam Driver to deliver another monologue about establishing a bunch of private parks for anyone and everyone.
That the final goal is so ill-defined is, at best, Coppola having an attempt at something overly deconstructionist, at worst someone wanting an excuse to grandstand with a Hollywood actor as their stand-in.
Coppola’s goal is to get people talking.
There could be an argument that the ill-defined nature of his endgame is representational of movies, at their very best, giving each individual who sees them their own private moments of reflection. Cesar’s goal, Coppola’s goal, is to get people talking. His movie is a living, breathing thing. That Megalopolis is so divisive reflects this perfectly.
Cesar repeats that people should be asking the right questions (featuring, at certain screenings, members of the audience/staff actually talking to the screen, with Cesar answering back). This mantra is why Megalopolis is regarded by some as genius and by others as folly. Its aim is the moon; the fact it falls a little short but still reaches above the atmosphere is something to behold with at least a smile.
Driver does, however, at times appear miscast, at other times fitting in perfectly with what the movie needs him to be. With copious stories, some from the cast themselves, about the slippery nature of Coppola’s production sensibilities, is Driver’s performance the biggest casualty? Like his characters final goal, Driver’s performance feels ill-defined.
The film could be accused of taking itself too seriously, but it appears at times like Coppola wanted to infuse his magnum opus on art, life and love with pratfalls. Jon Voight, for so long written off as a right-wing kook, surprises. He’s still a right-wing kook, but he understands what he’s doing here. Either that or Coppola and his editing team have done a remarkable job piecing together his performance resulting in his character’s finale, more so even than Cesar’s, being most memorable, if only because of its ridiculousness.
Look, Megalopolis is something that can and should be pored over, over repeat viewings, again and again to take apart its copious themes. A thousand words isn’t enough to discuss it and I won’t pretend to understand it completely after one viewing. See it for one man delivering speeches, trying to persuade everyone in the world to reach for high art; see it again for the moment an elderly man pretends to be comatose, before throwing off his bed sheets to reveal his boner is actually a tiny bow and arrow he proceeds to use as a murder weapon. It is messy, self-indulgent and bloated; it is also idealistic, singular and brave.
Megalopolis, at time of writing, is available to watch on the big screen.
Matthew D. Smith likes to overshare his views on movies and TV shows whenever and wherever he can. Indulge him, and follow him on Twitter or listen to the podcast he co-hosts with Leslie Wai.
