'Megalopolis' Review: Francis Ford Coppola's Passion Project with Adam Driver Is a Bold and Ambitious Epic

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In Megalopolis, Adam Driver brings idealistic fervor to the character of Cesar Catilina, a visionary genius determined to save New York City by creating a utopian future and dismantling the elite ruling class. Cesar's mission, both noble and egomaniacal, mirrors the relentless determination of Francis Ford Coppola to see this film through at any cost.

Adam Driver and Nathalie Emmanuel in 'Megalopolis.' AMERICAN ZOETROPE/MIHAI MALAIMARE

The "fable" serves as an allegory for the pursuit of a dream, highlighting how an auteur can still strive to create a monumental epic without compromising artistic integrity in a Hollywood increasingly driven by economic considerations.

The initial inspiration for the idea came to Coppola in the early 1980s, and he has been developing it intermittently ever since. This includes conducting table reads with prominent actors, shooting 30 hours of second unit footage in Manhattan in 2001, and nearly abandoning the project six years later when funding became difficult to secure.

There has been extensive coverage of Coppola's decision to self-finance the grandly scaled Megalopolis, which reportedly has a budget of $120 million. He partially raised the funds through the sale of a significant portion of his wine empire. Reports surfaced after a Los Angeles screening in March, attended by major studio and streaming platform executives, indicating that no buyer had emerged.

As the director of acclaimed films like The Godfather trilogy, The Conversation, and Apocalypse Now, as well as smaller but beloved works like Peggy Sue Got Married, Rumble Fish, The Outsiders, and even reevaluated failures like One From the Heart, Coppola has built up considerable goodwill in the industry. This goodwill has persisted despite the variability of his recent output. Additionally, the film's humorous self-awareness, evident in its playful nods to Coppola's own grandeur, as well as the heartfelt dedication "For my beloved wife Eleanor," who passed away recently, have endeared him to many.

However, sentimentality and admiration do not translate directly into commercial success. Following the L.A. screening, it became widely understood in the industry that no one could see a viable path to profitability, especially given the substantial marketing expenses Coppola had in mind. There was also uncertainty about the film's target audience, as it blends elements of political drama, arty science fiction, romance, and even screwball comedy, interwoven with lofty references to literature, philosophy, history, and religion. It is now widely believed in the industry that Megalopolis is unlikely to attract a broad audience, a sentiment that is difficult to dispute.

Is this an act of hubristic detachment, a grandiose folly, or a daring experiment, an imaginative attempt to encapsulate our tumultuous contemporary reality, both political and social, through the kind of expansive, high-concept storytelling that is rarely seen today? The reality is that it encompasses all these aspects.

It is verbose and excessively filled, often confusing and overly reliant on dialogue, referencing works like Hamlet and The Tempest, Marcus Aurelius and Petrarch, contemplating time, consciousness, and power to a degree that becomes burdensome. Yet, it is also frequently entertaining, light-hearted, visually stunning, and brightened by a poignant optimism for humanity. "Don't let the now destroy the forever," Cesar advises.

I cannot claim to have been engrossed throughout its two-plus hours duration, but I was consistently intrigued by its direction. Is it a great film? Far from it. However, it is not one that can be easily disregarded either.

At its core, the narrative revolves around a historical footnote from the Roman Empire concerning Lucius Sergius Catiline, an aristocrat and aspiring consul who plotted to overthrow the Republic by ousting the upper class and freeing the underclass from debt. These Roman allusions seamlessly transition to modern-day New York (referred to as New Rome), evident in architectural similarities, statues, and inscriptions on monuments and buildings.

Coppola's script renames Catiline as Cesar, drawing parallels to a more familiar historical figure, with Driver adopting a matching bowl haircut. In a clever design choice, Cesar's offices are located in the spire of the Chrysler Building. The character is first introduced standing on an outer ledge, and just before he falls, he halts time. While this skill, reminiscent of The Matrix, leads to some visually stunning sequences, it ultimately has little impact on the plot.

Cesar's groundbreaking creation of Megalon, a revolutionary building material at the cellular level, promises to transform New York into a city of limitless aesthetic possibilities while remaining environmentally friendly. He envisions using Megalon to reconstruct the city for the benefit of its residents. However, his plans face staunch opposition from the newly elected conservative mayor, Franklyn Cicero (played by Giancarlo Esposito).

Facing a fiscal crisis inherited from the previous administration, Mayor Cicero aims to boost revenue by constructing a casino complex, favoring the conventional materials of concrete and steel over Cesar's innovative Megalon.

The conflict between Cesar and Mayor Cicero is deeply personal, stemming from Cicero's past role as the district attorney overseeing the investigation into the murder of Cesar's wife (portrayed by Haley Simms), whose memory haunts him. Their animosity is further fueled by Cesar's public denunciation of Cicero as "The Chief Slumlord."

Cesar's clandestine affair with the ambitious TV financial reporter, Wow Platinum (played by Aubrey Plaza), adds another layer of intrigue. Wow, tired of being kept secret, schemes to marry New York's wealthiest man, the elderly Hamilton Crassus III (portrayed by Jon Voight), who is also Cesar's uncle. Her ultimate goal is to gain control of his bank. Although Plaza brings her trademark sardonic wit to the role, Wow's character feels somewhat underdeveloped within the narrative.

In a parallel storyline, Mayor Cicero's daughter, Julia (played by Nathalie Emmanuel), rebels against her father's conservative views. Drawn to Cesar's vision, she joins his cause as his aide-de-camp, sparking a romantic connection between them. Despite her initial support, Julia faces opposition from her father, who attempts to thwart their relationship.

However, Julia's independent thinking begins to influence others, including Mayor Cicero's wife, Teresa (portrayed by Kathryn Hunter), who gradually becomes sympathetic to Cesar's Megalopolis project.

Julia's ingenuity becomes crucial when Cesar is ensnared in a legal entanglement stemming from a contrived sex scandal involving one of the city's Vestal Virgins—details are best left unexplored. The architect of this sabotage is Cesar's cousin, Clodio (played by Shia LaBeouf), a self-absorbed individual infatuated with Julia. Their rivalry dates back to childhood.

LaBeouf delivers the film's most amusing performance, portraying Clodio as a cunning narcissist with a penchant for gender-fluid fashion. "Revenge tastes best while wearing a dress," quips Clodio, reveling in his apparent success at tarnishing Cesar's reputation. Exploiting the discontent among the city's lower classes, Clodio rapidly ascends in the political arena, emerging as a formidable adversary to both his cousin and the mayor.

Does this narrative coalesce seamlessly? Not entirely. It is unlikely to be remembered as a profound commentary on our deeply divided political landscape. Moreover, the film struggles to maintain a consistent tone, oscillating between earnestness and absurdity. However, it is far from dull, exuding extravagance at every turn. Few contemporary filmmakers dare to tackle such grand narratives, transcending the realm of conventional blockbusters.

While the film's design elements, including Milena Canonero's costumes blending contemporary flair with Greco-Roman draping, are impressive, the vision of a decadent future New York feels somewhat antiquated. This portrayal of a city transformed into a playground for the affluent, with its high-fashion runways and hedonistic nightclubs, lacks a certain freshness.

Nonetheless, the concept of transforming Madison Square Garden into a modern-day Colosseum, featuring gladiatorial contests, chariot races, and acrobatics, is a clever one, even if the performances veer into the outlandish and the crowd's roar becomes overwhelming.

The film's use of familiar landmarks such as Grand Central Station, City Hall, and Central Park roots the narrative in a recognizable Manhattan. Roman Coppola's involvement as the second unit director, along with the incorporation of footage shot by Ron Fricke in 2001, adds to this sense of familiarity.

The studio sets are imbued with a noirish ambiance through skillful use of light and shadow, transforming the cityscape much like Ridley Scott did with Los Angeles in Blade Runner. Cinematographer Mihai Mălaimare Jr. and production designers Bradley Rubin and Beth Mickle draw inspiration from a variety of sources, including fine art, photography, Escher graphics, and cinema, spanning from Méliès to the present.

The ensemble cast delivers solid performances, with Driver shining in a role that balances dreaminess with pragmatism, and Esposito portraying a reactionary character who reveals unexpected depth. Talia Shire makes an appearance as Cesar's emotionally distant mother, while Laurence Fishburne brings gravitas to the role of Cesar's all-knowing driver, who also provides scholarly voiceover narration.

Chloe Fineman adds a touch of fun as Clodio's sister, a confidante of Julia's who exudes the charm of a Versailles courtier. However, some cast members, such as Jason Schwartzman and Balthazar Getty, are underutilized.

The film premiered for critics at Cannes in an IMAX theater, featuring a brief live interlude that left viewers speculating about its inclusion in regular commercial screenings. While this approach may be seen as somewhat gimmicky, it indicates Coppola's intention to position Megalopolis as an event film. Given its likely niche appeal, this may be an ambitious goal. Nevertheless, if this proves to be the 85-year-old director's final work, he is certainly concluding his career with a bold and daring statement.

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