Coppola's costly vision: Megalopolis fails to impress critics

The idea for "Megalopolis" was conceived by Francis Ford Coppola, the creator of "The Godfather," in the early 1980s. The story was meant to depict a monumental New York of the future modelled on ancient Rome. It was closest to fruition at the start of the 21st century, but the September 11 attacks became an unexpected obstacle. Another attempt to bring the vision of New Rome to life had to wait another twenty years, as Coppola funded the project entirely from his resources.

It's not elegant to discuss finances, especially someone else's, but with "Megalopolis," money is pivotal. Specifically, Coppola invested more than £83 million from his private savings from his vineyard. Because of this, the film, which hit theatres on Friday, 25th October, at Greenwich Mean Time, will be discussed for years. In any other case, Coppola's film might be quickly forgotten despite grand advertising slogans proclaiming it would be understood and appreciated over time. Not so here. If someone mentions "Megalopolis" twenty years from now, it will likely be with the question, "Do you remember that flop Coppola spent £83 million on?" No one will say, "Do you remember that masterpiece that Coppola's descendants failed to understand?"

This is the New Rome of the future, a city governed by Mayor Cicero (Giancarlo Esposito), whose authority benefits the powerful. Founded on strong moral principles, the metropolis slowly decays from within due to its elite succumbing to decadence. While the wealthiest gather at extravagant parties full of indulgence, ordinary Romans lead increasingly arduous lives. Their growing anger is also stoked by Cesar Catilina (Adam Driver), who is responsible for the city's urbanisation. This Nobel Prize-winning visionary, who can stop time, dreams of rebuilding New Rome using a concept he devised called a megalon. However, he must first demolish it, leading to discontent among citizens who are finding themselves homeless. Against the backdrop of increasingly unsettled social unrest, a power struggle ensues. Cicero's daughter, Julia (Nathalie Emmanuel), unexpectedly sides with Catilina.

On paper, it all looks impressive. The notion of analysing the modern world's challenges through the lens of Rome in its empire's final stage is effective metaphorically and literally; the architecture of New Rome, blending ancient Rome with modern New York, appears brilliant. Even from the prior description, one might also assume that "Megalopolis" adheres to a classic narrative arc. Coupling this with a stellar cast, including Aubrey Plaza, Dustin Hoffman, and Jon Voight, and a legendary director behind the camera, it seems poised to impact global screens significantly. Or so it seems.

We must revisit the matter of the money Coppola invested in "Megalopolis." Coppola pays for everything, so Coppola is in charge! Through this, we are presented with true auteur cinema, devoid of unnecessary producer interference. But what if the author's megalomania overshadows his judiciousness? What if he is convinced of his infallibility and greatness? What if he views himself as a cinematic visionary whose work will be recognised and appreciated in the future, a monument to his legacy? This is what "Megalopolis" is.

"Megalopolis" wouldn't exist if Coppola couldn't self-finance it. No one would invest such a massive sum in a project that's the complete antithesis of current audience expectations. Nor do I believe anyone ever will. There's nothing here to recover the costs. But must everything be measured in monetary terms? Is the seventieth instalment of a popular superhero series more valuable than auteur cinema that defies categorisation and clichés? one might ask. Certainly not. However, "You just don't get it" cannot be an excuse or proof of a masterpiece. "Megalopolis" is not a masterpiece.

It is a chaotic film overflowing with concepts, ideas, experiments, clichés, morals, naivety, and well-meaning intentions that aren't sufficiently substantiated. It wouldn't be inaccurate to say "Megalopolis" contains everything. Grand, spectacular revelries are juxtaposed with scenes reminiscent of those edited out of a soap opera. Monumental music occasionally accompanies great visual solutions but more often serves as practice for a novice filmmaker still experimenting before their debut feature film. The actors echo sermons and lessons from Coppola, the screenwriter, with eyes seeking understanding of their purpose, wondering why no one on set suggested, "Francis, let's reconsider!" The entire film concludes with a naïve finale seemingly written by a fifth-grader. Coppola’s utopian vision, drawn up with the precision of Cesar Catilina, resembles a suburban estate purported—according to advertisements—to reach the airport in five minutes and the city centre in six. Perhaps Coppola even devised that advertisement.

In an era of ever-increasing cinema ticket prices, it's prudent to consider each pound spent on a screening. In the case of "Megalopolis," the choice is clear: keep your pound in your pocket. You can spend it more wisely; Coppola won’t face financial ruin (not to that extent). Similarly, if you visit the cinema once or twice a month, you'll find more compelling options that won't waste your time (as much). I can't imagine a circumstance where watching "Megalopolis" is a good idea.

Thanks to its courage to provide an adequately engaging screening, it's not such a dreadful film. You won't discuss it with friends since there are countless more engaging topics to discuss (have you seen cucumber prices lately?!) unless you wish to verify whether the mocking reviews of the new work by "The Godfather" creator are exaggerated. Then, they attend and discover that they are not. 4/10.