Megalopolis Can Only Imagine Genius As a Brand

As a seasoned film critic who’s seen more than my fair share of ambitious projects, I must admit that Francis Ford Coppola’s latest offering, “Megalopolis,” left me feeling a tad bewildered, much like trying to decipher the secret recipes at my Italian grandmother’s kitchen.

In the film “Megalopolis”, Adam Driver’s portrayal of Cesar Catilina serves as a vessel for Francis Ford Coppola’s long-held frustrations and ideologies, although not a literal representation. Over several decades, Coppola has been nurturing this project, starting in the ’70s and officially working on it since 1983. He chose to fund the film himself at a cost of $120 million because he felt that the studio system he’d worked within and fought with for years wouldn’t allow him to fully realize his vision. The art of architecture, which Catilina represents, serves as an apt metaphor for filmmaking, as both require collaboration and capital, making their creation a blend of commerce and creativity.

Francis Ford Coppola, who had to sell parts of his Napa Valley vineyard to finance Megalopolis, continues to reside on the other side of San Francisco Bay from Silicon Valley at Inglenook. Initially, he attempted to recruit Amazon Alexa developers to create an interactive film experience. The notion of tech-industry genetics influencing Coppola’s portrayal of a visionary character is not implausible, although it’s not the surface similarities — or shared tastes for socializing and procreation — that make Catilina resemble the world’s most internet-influenced billionaire. Instead, it’s because Catilina, like Musk, is someone whose reputation as a genius stems more from his image and demeanor than his accomplishments.

In the film Megalopolis, there’s an overwhelming amount of dialogue, reminiscent of being stuck in a lengthy conversation with someone under the influence of cocaine. Characters speak in formal declarations that occasionally transition into passages resembling Shakespearean texts. This is Coppola’s first film in 13 years and has been referred to as gonzo, intensely personal, and a passionate cry from a filmmaker who is both acclaimed for his classic films and known for taking risks. However, the film isn’t primarily about the need for groundbreaking ideas; instead, it serves as an appeal for the ongoing significance and indulgence of individuals like its revolutionary protagonist.

The movie titled Megalopolis, situated in a New Rome resembling a futuristic New York City, features an abundance of classical allusions and chaotic court dramas. Performances vary from intensely serious (Driver) to satirical (Aubrey Plaza). The film mirrors its protagonist’s focus on grandiose, abstract concepts rather than delivering substantial messages. In essence, when Catalina reveals his project, he pacifies the agitated crowd at the gates with a statement that could be summarized as the need for a significant dialogue about the future – a remark that feels comically insignificant given its repetition by Coppola himself in interviews. This comment, however, is puzzling because it’s unclear who on screen is invited to contribute to this discussion. In Megalopolis, the public is portrayed as an easily swayed crowd until the final scene, where they are symbolically depicted as Emma Lazarus’s downtrodden masses in the opulent glow of Catilina’s creation. The film focuses primarily on the wealthy and influential elite, neglecting the common people. One of the few images that truly resonates finds Driver and Nathalie Emmanuel in a heavenly embrace atop unseen wings on the steel beams of an incomplete skyscraper, high above the city.

Catilina resides atop the Chrysler Building and tends to avoid interacting with others when possible. Emmanuel, portraying Julia, a former party girl turned personal assistant, implores Cicero, her father, even after she’s departed, having joined forces with Catilina. The peculiar finale of Megalopolis, suggesting the value of dialogue, is unsettling given that the film showcases how individuals like Catilina should not be compelled to justify their actions. Throughout Megalopolis, Catilina dismissively disregards media scrutiny regarding the safety of Megalon, a concern that appears reasonable. He illegally demolishes public housing to make way for his prized project, which later puts a strain on the city’s power grid as it nears completion. His approach—move swiftly, break things, apologize later—resonates with familiarity, as does the sensation that what Catilina is creating is an extravagant type of vaporware. However, if Megalopolis mirrors some unsavory tendencies in tech, its intentions seem more personal and petulant. It addresses the efforts to suppress this influential figure, but Coppola’s grand statement—the one he worked years to bring to fruition—ultimately offers no meaningful message. He has solidified his place in film history numerous times over and deserves immense credit for pursuing his ambitions. In essence, let that man continue his work. However, there’s no obligation for others to sit at his table after the fact.

2024-10-04 20:54

Megalopolis Can Only Imagine Genius As a Brand

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