Have you ever wondered what would happen if you tried to make a movie about everything? Francis Ford Coppola’s “Megalopolis” may have your answer. A sprawling exercise in maximalism, the film, despite its grand ambitions, ultimately captures very little.
Though Coppola began the first steps of the movie’s development in 1983, fulfilling this cinematic dream was an uphill battle. Turned down by most major studios, the “Godfather” visionary moved to self-finance the film in 2021 with a more than $100 million loan against his wine business. Despite securing funding, the production was plagued by controversy. During the production process, nearly all the members of Coppolas’s visual effects departments were fired. This was followed by allegations made by a “Megalopolis” extra who accused Coppola of sexual harassment during the filming of an Atlanta nightclub scene. Coppola has since filed a $15 million libel suit against magazine Variety.
The plot at the center of the unrestrained and chaotic film is fairly simple: America is a direct parallel to the Roman Empire, and it, too, will soon fall. The story is set in
“New Rome City,” almost an exact 1-to-1 copy of New York City. Played by Adam Driver, the head of the city’s design authority is Cesar Catilina, a drug-addicted Nobel laureate presented as a modern Da Vinci but played like Kylo Ren if he was cast as Da Vinci. We first meet Catilina as he stops time from atop the Chrysler building and introduces his magical substance, Megalon, which can last forever and save humanity. However, he soon clashes with Mayor Cicero, played by Giancarlo Esposito, a character who is a stubborn figure of the old establishment and accuses Catilina of conspiring to ruin both his political career and the city.
Does that sound at all familiar? Well if you took any sort of Roman history class, it should. Coppola attempts to fold the story of the 63 BCE Catiline conspiracy into his narrative, but he doesn’t end up borrowing much more than the characters’ names. Instead, the film opens up numerous other plots that relate only partially to Catiline’s quest to build his futuristic utopia.
One of the few storylines that does find itself following the main plot is the one that involves the mayor’s daughter Julia, played by Nathalie Emmanuel, a hedonistic party animal who can flawlessly quote Marcus Aurelius just as easily as she can do a line. Initially, Julia feels equal desire and hatred towards her father’s rival. But as the film progresses, she gets closer and closer to Catilina, and soon enough, the pair is fully immersed in forbidden romance (what a surprise!). Unfortunately, Driver and Emmanuel have little on-screen chemistry, and thus their relationship — which is central to the narrative — is difficult to watch at times.
This dynamic between the Cicero family and Catilina could certainly fill a film by itself, but Coppola doesn’t stop there. A slew of other characters find themselves playing a part; only Aubrey Plaza turns in a performance that’s at all above average as news anchor Wow Platinum, another former lover of Catilina’s. Once the architect leaves Platinum behind, she immediately embarks on an elaborate revenge plot that involves taking over the bank of mega-billionaire Hamilton Crassus III, played by Jon Voight. Then there’s Crassus’ son Clodio, played by Shia LeBeouf, and his sidekick Jason, played by Jason Schwartzman. Sensing the public’s discontent with the politics of both Cicero and Catilina, Clodio transforms himself into a Trumpian figure, leading various mobs and causing generally inconsequential mischief. Dustin Hoffman’s character, Nush Berman, also has some impact on the film — or so I’m told.
Plaza’s wit is a rare bright spot in a film full of hopelessly overacted nonsense; the only other half-decent work comes from Laurence Fishburne as Catilina’s hard-boiled chauffeur Fundi Romaine, who also narrates the action at times. Especially weak are the performances of LaBeouf and Voight, though for opposite reasons. While LaBeouf continually makes desperate attempts to give his character’s plot significance through grandiose expressions and movements, Voight’s expression is so unchanging that the viewer questions whether his face can move at all.
Plenty happens among all these characters — a carnival serves as a wedding reception, a space satellite falls from the sky, Catilina gets shot in the face as part of a scheme yet miraculously survives — but most scenes feel either like excuses for Coppola to incorporate various philosophical musings on America and humanity or extraneous drivers toward an endpoint.
Unsurprisingly, the film is at its best when the story comes second to Coppola and the crew’s ability to create a visually compelling image. A car chase where Julia tracks Cesar through Times Square and into shady backstreets is beautifully photographed and directed, with a neo-noir feel. When Catilina experiences a drug trip, the viewer is treated to exciting visuals that evoke the anxiety of a film like “Climax.” Unfortunately, such moments are few and far between.
Watching “Megalopolis” is truly a singular experience. It’s a film that shouldn’t exist, and yet, it does. After all, Coppola’s bullish determination to make the film despite a bloated and incoherent script is at least a little bit admirable. As Frank Capra put it, “There are no rules in filmmaking. Only sins. And the cardinal sin is dullness.” Dull may be the one thing that “Megalopolis” isn’t, and although many — myself included — may deem it one of the worst films of this century, every idea that gets turned into reality is worth something.
