By Mark Fields
Coppola’s Long-Awaited Swan Song Ridiculous Mess
It pains me as an admirer to say this, but I have had real misgivings about Megalopolis, Francis Ford Coppola’s eagerly anticipated opus, for a while. The subtitle, A Fable, hints at auteurish pretension, a feeling that the grandiose trailer does not assuage. But surely, the masterful director of The Conversation, The Godfather Saga, and Apocalypse Now still has some cinematic rabbits to pull out of his hat.
Alas, no, Megalopolis is a tedious, ridiculous mess, misusing the talents of its distinguished and large cast, including Adam Driver, Nathalie Emmanuel, Giancarlo Esposito, Laurence Fishburne, Aubrey Plaza, and Shia LeBoeuf. The film is an unfortunate coda to Coppola’s distinguished, albeit uneven, career.
Megalopolis imagines contemporary New York City as a modern Roman Empire, lurching toward obsolescence in all its indulgence and corruption. Driver plays Cesar Catilina, a visionary artist/architect with utopian dreams for remaking the city. Esposito is Cicero, the city’s mayor and Cesar’s rival (for reasons unclear in the script). Emmanuel plays Julia Cicero, the mayor’s daughter who is drawn to Catilina’s creative energy.
An interesting and salient idea, with some obvious connections to current politics, but one completely undermined by the lack of self-editing by Coppola, both as director and screenwriting. The script is portentous and florid, much of it delivered in narration by Laurence Fishburne. The production design of the film is equally bombastic, and Coppola’s direction is self-indulgent and listless.
A lack of directorial control weakens the performances as well. Driver gives a mannered, self-conscious portrayal (not a surprise from this actor) that undercuts the central premise of the film. Plaza and LeBouef are also undisciplined in their showier villain roles. Emmanuel is sweet as the ingénue, and Esposito has his moments, but most of the large cast play undeveloped characters with little screen time. Perhaps I’m projecting my own unease, but many of them seem vaguely embarrassed to be seen here.
If you are going to set out to make a statement film, it’s pretty crucial that you have something profound to say. Sadly, Megalopolis gets buried under the weight of its own seriousness, and the result is not nearly as deep as Coppola seems to think. As a longtime fan of the director’s earlier work, it dismays me to see such a trainwreck of a film from a once-great visionary.
