Megalópolis

I love the dreamy, beautiful, bizarre, and surreal variety of shots and scenes, as well as the strange, meta commentary dialog with multiple meanings. The cinematography is just great, and i really appreciate the effort put into the decor, sets, worldbuilding and aesthetic architecture. Technically its very impressive the cinematography is great, there's a lot happening in the background of some scenes.

The cast is full of great actors. However, the editing and plot cohesion were definitely all over the place.

Cesar's arc reminded me a bit of Legion, with him discovering maddening powers.

I am sure this will be someones favorite movie, but i think it needs time to digest for most people. It feels like a film that needs a rewatch to find new perspectives. Maybe in future retrospect, Coppola's last movie will be seen differently but for now it just doesn't hit.

Full disclosure: This film is a disaster of epic proportions-an absolute train wreck that careens off the tracks, crashes, and then somehow sets itself on fire. It's so bad, it's almost brilliant, the kind of so-awful-it's-genius nightmare that future cult fans will rave about. And you know what? I respect the hell out of Coppola for it. The guy is a cinematic legend who just decided to throw all caution (and coherence) to the wind and go full mad scientist on this. It's a glorious, unfiltered mess from the mind of a genius who clearly stopped caring about what anyone thinks. Bravo, you magnificent lunatic! 👏🏻

The mere mention of Francis Ford Coppola's name brings forth a multitude of breathtaking experiences. Over decades, the filmmaker has created a monumental filmography, one few directors could even dream of matching. He solidified his legacy with *The Godfather*; with *Apocalypse Now*, he became immortal. He is undoubtedly one of the greatest filmmakers of all time. Yet, his latest film, the long-awaited *Megalopolis*, is a bewildering cacophony, oscillating between the sublime and the awkward, between hope and dreams. Though not an outright failure, it falls short of what one would expect from such a celebrated director.

The film's plot revolves around the ideological clash between the prodigious architect Cesar Catalina, a Nobel laureate, and Frank Cicero, the mayor of New Rome-a futuristic New York City. While the politician governs with his eyes set on the past, relying on experience and tradition in his decisions, the architect dreams of radically transforming life through a utopia enabled by "megalon," a miraculous material. Throughout the film, Coppola denounces the rampant hypocrisy and corruption of contemporary Western society. The spectacle of life, the manipulation of information, the commercialization of sex-all these are symptoms of a morally bankrupt empire, led by a decadent elite lost in excess and vanity. The only way out for such a civilization appears to be the reform envisioned by Cesar. He believes he can resolve all social contradictions through his "megalon," raising a new world from the ruins of New Rome. To achieve this, he must overcome skeptics and survive the vicious.

Although *Megalopolis* was originally conceived over twenty years ago, the discussions Coppola raises are strikingly relevant, especially in his critique of mass media and mass politics. The film has a beating heart and can engage the viewer in its most intense moments. What it unfortunately lacks, however, is structure and substance. Coppola paints his film like a Pollock painting, yet without any sense of harmony or flow in his brushstrokes, and the result is a chaotic and disjointed work. *Megalopolis* is laden with intention and argument, but it lacks direction, lacks synthesis, and fails to turn its theme into poetry. The film blends grandiose imagery, bolstered by a thunderous score, with the ridiculous, as crude visual effects bring a cheap surrealism to life. The dialogues are eloquently robotic, and they only function because of the actors who manage (which is a testament to the quality of the cast) to convey some humanity to their characters. Coppola fails to present New Rome as a believable, palpable world, which limits the viewer's ability to become involved. At no point does the city appear as anything more than a metonymy for America, and its inhabitants are not particularly compelling.

The film is also packed with homages to classics that inspired the director, with one scene, for instance, evoking the epic *Ben-Hur*. Amid so many tributes, one stands out, perhaps to the detriment of the film itself. From its very title, *Megalopolis*, comparisons with Fritz Lang's legendary *Metropolis* become inevitable. Coppola's production, in some ways, is almost a modern reinterpretation of the German master's work, with some parallels between the two films. In both, the protagonist is a wealthy young man trying to address the terrible inequalities of a futuristic society. And in both, love is a positive force that drives change-the man who loves yearns to transform society. But while *Metropolis* is flawless in its presentation, *Megalopolis* fails to convince. It does not impress with its visuals, which are largely uninteresting; it does not deliver an engaging plot, nor memorable characters. It has the virtue of saying exactly what the filmmaker wanted to say-it is assertive and confident in its message without being, however, preachy. But a dozen well-thought-out metaphors do not make a good movie.

Coppola may have become a prisoner of his own myth. Many refuse to accept anything less than a masterpiece from him, and *Megalopolis*, unfortunately, is not one of his better moments. It is a film ambitious in concept but weak in execution. It engages with the issues of its time but fails to create pathos. It reaffirms faith in humanity and the transformation of the world, but it lacks a story and characters that could amplify its message. It is certainly not a triumphant return for the director, but it is not a detestable piece of work either. For viewers willing to intellectually engage with the film and forgive its flaws, *Megalopolis* can capture attention and reasonably convey its director's ideas. It can even entertain, as the actors are fully invested in the script's quirks, and there is something charming about Coppola's vision for the future of humanity.

I really admire the story and purpose but the interpretation of the younger generation was almost unbearable that I had to laugh. The acting is done very well but at the behest of a pathless plot and lack of an environment. Some scenes were simply bizarre; actors walking to different parts of the room for no reason as if I was watching a Cirque Du Soleil show without the art house beauty, the gaudy and exaggerated portrayal of the wealthy as if they are dumb pigs and just the overall delivery of direction was strange and not fun to watch. I really feel like Coppola had no one to tell him; "Hey that's stupid."

You can see every cent on the screen. That's the good thing about Francis Ford Coppola's latest and quite possibly last movie. Between the cast, the costuming, and the set design, which reimagines New York City as New Rome, you can see it all. The only question this raises is why was 42nd Street from Third Avenue to Times Square left unaffected, and what about the movie theaters from 7th to 8th Avenue?

That said, it is natural to be skeptical of what is essentially an admiring biopic of Robert Moses. Especially when it has apparently been written by Ayn Rand as a reply to METROPOLIS and then handed to Abel Gance after convincing him he's making a movie about Julius Caesar instead of Napoleon. And don't forget the quotations from Marcus Aurelius.

It is, in sum, a very learned movie. To appreciate the details, you need to have read extensively in Roman history, seen a lot of silent films, and be familiar with New York City in the second half of the 20th Century, including the flight of the middle and upper classes from the 1950s through the 1980s. Through the vagaries of my upbringing and a chaotic course of self-education, I can claim those things. So. What do I think?

The performances are fine. However, I am left with the question, as I am about so many movies these days, of who Coppola made this movie for. It is claimed he spent about $140 million of his own money on this feature. The general rule is that a movie has to gross about twice its production cost to break even. I can't see a large enough audience for this to produce $300,000,000 in tickets and secondary rights. It is simply too long, a shaggy dog story about love and artistic vision being more important than anything else.

This would not, of course, be the first time that Coppola has let his artistic ambitions explode on him; even though it is claimed APOCALYPSE NOW eventually made its money back, I have my doubts about that if you add in interest costs. Certainly ONE FROM THE HEART was a disaster, and he spent a couple of decades making nicely commercial movies from other sources to dig his way out, and let the wineries and restaurants make him money. Neither do I believe this movie will ruin him. There are certainly enough movies buffs around to make the net loss from this bearable.

All of which goes a long way to answering my question of who Coppola's intended audience was. It was Coppola himself, an attempt to prove himself the complete film maker, instead of the fine translator of others' well told tales. I hope he likes what he has wrought.