'Megalopolis' Is Francis Ford Coppola's 40-Year Confusing and Lively Thesis On Hope
If I were to attempt to somewhat accurately describe the experience of seeing Francis Ford Coppola's Megalopolis to somehow going in cold, it would be something like this. Imagine if, one day, your grandfather gave you an older, leather-bound journal. This journal has 40 years of hopes, observations, worries, horrors, advice...you name it. Sometimes, all of these themes bleed within each other. Other times, it feels like one completely overtakes the others.
After you finish reading through it all and trying to decide what it means, you'll almost understand there's a sense of urgency. It's as if the pen strokes meeting the paper are the collision of the past and present, trying to get every thought out and hoping that puts more sand in the hourglass. That's not all to say Megalopolis is a great film. It has many issues and often feels like it's more of an improv exercise than a complete narrative.
One point exists when a character messes up a line, and the film goes with it. It feels like some actors are in a completely different Megalopolis than others. In the rare moments where it settles down, Coppola has a lot to say about society, dialogue between different groups of people, and the hope of love being able to save us all. The way he says it isn't succinct; it's rather scattershot and messy. But therein lies the messy canvas of an artist with a whole lot to say and not a lot of time to say it.
Two competing ideologies exist in the fictional city of "New Rome" (which is really Coppola's take on New York). Amidst falling poll numbers and protests, Mayor Cicero (Giancarlo Esposito) wants to keep the capitalistic status quo intact. This is entirely the opposite viewpoint of Cesar Catilina (Adam Driver), an intelligent architect and inventor of a highly bio-adaptative metal called Megalon. Cesar's ultimate vision is building "Megalopolis," a utopia where people from all backgrounds could live together, not under the thumb of any system. It also just so happens Cesar can stop time. In retrospect, this ability plays more thematically as a metaphor than in practice as the film progresses.
There are more players within the game Coppola is trying to weave, and Cesar's aid, Fundi Romaine (Laurence Fishburne), is your narration tour guide. Wealthy bank owner Hamilton Crassus III (Jon Voight) is the main benefactor to his nephew Cesar's endeavors. At the same time, his creepy, soon-to-be fascist cousin Clodio (Shia LaBeouf) is incredibly jealous of all the things Cesar is trying to accomplish. Cicero’s daughter Julia (Nathalie Emmanuel) is skeptical of Cesar, and her allegiances lie with her father. But something about him (other than Cesar's Neo-like ability) elicits Juila to work for Cesar and buy into his vision of what he would like New Rome to be. Rounding out this cast of characters is eccentric Wall Street reporter Wow Platinum (Aubrey Plaza), who is looking to stay relevant by any nefarious means necessary.
Coppola has a lot to get off his chest, ranging from what wealth inevitably does to people and a more direct tie to Clodio's character and the rise of Trumpism (it feels like at least some of Megalopolis was written not even too long ago). With all the visual glitz some of the scenes have and the pomp and circumstance of an extended ancient Rome coliseum celebration/wedding - it's best to try to think of Megalopolis as Coppola's weird way of looking toward a progressive future. This film tries to parse through things like debt and the proper place of government, but it doesn't particularly land well in order.
Many intentional and unintentional things occur just out of consequence because plot beats can feel disjointed. When the film finds a pocket to dive into Cesar's mind, which doubles as an avatar for Coppola himself, you can somewhat understand the primary purpose of what he's conveying.
Cesar is wrapped up in trying to forge this new society and is cold to the rest of the world because this process comforts him and helps him hide from the world. He loses his wife in a tragic accident (one that Mayor Cicero's past is tied to), and the suspension of time keeps him in a mental space where he longs for her. It's an instance of vulnerability Driver gets to show a little later. Coppola dedicated Megalopolis to his late wife, Eleanor. When you realize that, you might understand where the overarching theme of love being the driving force to their full potential is clearer.
It's not necessarily a profound theme, but it is personal in how Coppola thinks of companionship with art. There are the old ways of doing things that Megalopolis ultimately points to and thinks will eventually lead us to ruin like past civilizations. The eventual Shakespeare-esque love between Cesar and Julia is supposed to be the bridge to show that the new ways will give us hope. The love story between them is not fleshed enough to convey that sentiment, but Coppola infuses a throughline of affection into this story (and a collection of ideas and thoughts).
The late great David Bowie once said, "I don't know where I'm going from here, but I promise it won't be boring." Megalopolis knows where it's going, but it is hampered by its insistence on using every single mode of transportation to get there. It's Coppola's loaded hail mary to ask humanity to be better to one another long after he's gone and an unloading of his conscience to know he gave everything.