Movie Review: Megalopolis
Written by Grady Fiorio Original Publishing Date: December 31st, 2024 Rating: 5/5
I guess you guys aren't ready for that yet. But your kids are gonna love it
“I'm not saying I'm gonna rule the world or I'm gonna change the world, but I guarantee you that I will spark the brain that will change the world...” - Tupac Shakur
I don’t really know if there’s a way I can talk about Megalopolis, without sounding pretentious. It’s an admittedly self-indulgent, philosophically stuffed, Shakespearean epic. If it were any farther up its own ass, it would be the new medical standard for colonoscopies. But here’s the important part. I don’t give a fuck. I don’t give a fuck about the overstuffed density of the script. I don’t give a fuck that the dialogue is a strange mishmash of poetry, Shakespeare, history, and philosophy. I don’t give a fuck that the film's tone changes more than the quality of the VFX. Nearly every headline criticism that has been laid against Megalopolis, bluntly I just don’t give a fuck. Why? Unlike most studio films coming out now, Megalopolis made me feel something. It’s a magnum opus from the future, that filmmakers could only dream of. It’s a world of fresh ideas about a society that is hopeful for the future. It doesn’t muddy itself with the pale darkness of Orwellian futures and “bad endings”. It’s an anti-cautionary tale, about what happens when we do let love and empathy into our hearts. A world where art, creativity, and future generations are valued the same way we value social credit and wealth. Call it naive, but Megalopolis believes that it’s all possible. So yeah, I’ll get pretentious, because Megalopolis gives me something to dream about rather than dread. And with a little bit of luck, you can too.
So let’s get formalities out of the way. Megalopolis is the long-gestating brainchild of one of cinema’s most important directors, Francis Ford Coppola. Yes, he’s The Godfather guy, with a long list of directorial credits that we all know and love by now. Beginning in 1977, while working on Apocalypse Now, Copolla started to connect the dots on the parallels between ancient Rome and modern America. After years of rewrites, false starts, and even being thwarted by the 9/11 terror attacks, Copolla shelved the project until 2019, when he rediscovered his passion for the film after taking an eight-year hiatus from filmmaking. In a sprawling sci-fi epic, Megalopolis tells the story of genius architect Cesar Catilina, as he competes and clashes with Frank Cicero, the Mayor of New Rome (a Roman take on New York), to rebuild the city into his utopia, Megalopolis. With his newly discovered “fix everything” element megalon, and the supernatural ability to stop time, Cesar is caught in a web of conspiracy, political coups, and a love triangle with the Mayor’s daughter, as the future of New Rome begins to fall into the hands of the corrupt and greedy. Megalopolis also serves as a light retelling of the Catilinarian conspiracy of 63 BC. It’s a much more straightforward story than headlines would have you believe, but it requires the focus of the viewer to cut through the screenplay’s thick layer of metaphor, subtext, satire, and jarring tonal shifts.
I’m sure you’ve probably seen the big and bold headlines detailing the financial, critical, production, and box-office “disaster” of Megalopolis. A $120 million self-financed sci-fi epic from the guy who made The Godfather, and it’s supposed to be a disaster. It was all anybody could talk about when the film came out. It's not the content of the film, just a giant lambast of it. But you’ve heard that all. It’s a moot point. What is Megalopolis and what is it trying to say? To ease up the tension for this review, I won’t “defend” Megalopolis. I’m simply going to tell you why I like it. For better and for worse, Megalopolis is not user-friendly. That much is clear by now. But it’s also what makes the film so damn unique. To best understand the film, it’s best to break it up narratively, and then metaphorically. The two worlds this film simultaneously coexists in. For the sake of clarity and convenience, I’m going to put up a SPOILER WARNING now, because to break this film down we’re gonna have to get our hands a little dirty.
As a side note, all underlined words are clickable links that will take you to scenes from the movie, interviews, and much more!
The wind howls across the New Rome skyline. The sun beams just before it sets, shadowing each skyscraper like an architectural pantomime etched into concrete. Atop the Chrysler Building emerges Cesar Catalina, a cheat, a drunk, and an architectural genius. As Cesar slides across the rooftop, vertigo sets in. A long walk off a short cliff is the only thing that separates him from the living and the dead. Cesar makes his way to the edge, outstretches his arms, and lets gravity take care of the rest. “Time Stop!” Cesar’s voice echoes across the sky. With arms curled in covering his eyes, Cesar hangs frozen in time. He pulls himself back to the building. With a snap of his fingers, time continues as it was. The gates of Megalopolis have now opened. Now that’s how you start a movie.
At a televised event for the architectural future of New Rome, Megalopolis introduces us to our main players. Frank Cicero (Giancarlo Esposito), New Rome’s greedy and corrupt Mayor and former DA, who competes with Cesar to rebuild New Rome in his own image. Julia Cicero (Nathalie Emmanuel), Frank’s daughter and a raver girl who will soon become Cesar’s main love interest, much at the behest of Frank. Hamilton Crassus (Jon Voight), a senile banker and the richest man in the world, who just so happens to be Cesar’s uncle. Clodio Pulcher (Shia LaBeouf), Crassus’ wild card of a son, intent on making Caesar’s life hell by usurping any power that comes his way. And finally, Wow Platinum (Aubrey Plaza), a gaudy news reporter and Cesar’s mistress, whose only interests are fame and the almighty dollar. With the chess pieces in place, Megalopolis sets the stage for a psycho-spiritual political thriller like no other. At this televised event, the film makes the intentions of each character clear. Mayor Cicero walks in like a used car salesman, ready to pitch the people of New Rome a giant casino, while Cesar struts in swinging across scaffolding, holding back his pitch to instead quote Shakespeare and crack jokes. This opening event is then intercut with an interview between Wow Platinum and Crassus, discussing his status as an ultra trillionaire. Below the screen, a “billions per second” graphic racks up into comically large numbers as we see Crassus’ net worth skyrocket. As the event continues Cesar rides the line of megalomaniac and genius as he details his plan for his utopian city, dubbed “Megalopolis”. He wants to buck the rules and regulations, using the new controversial “miracle” element Megalon as the foundation for all his ideas of grandeur. In Cesar’s mind, he and he alone can form the city into what it deserves to become. Things heat up as Cicero wants to retract into proven ideas of steel and concrete, while Cesar wants to veer into uncharted waters. It becomes a clash of the old and new, deciding if the future is worth being risked on idealistic principles and unproven technology. The writing here is unnatural as hell, but it does a great job of introducing us to Megalopolis’ hyper-real brand of dialogue and satire, while giving us a taste of the film’s philosophical debates.
While Cesar might seem like the life of the party, we come to understand that his messy love life and deep struggle with alcohol and drugs, cause this toiled genius to often be more toiled than genius. Still not over the death of his wife, Cesar retreats into a messy affair with Wow Platinum, but finds that his illusions of Megalopolis don’t align with her search for power. He breaks things off to put his focus on the future. However, his plans become messy once again when Julia enters the picture. While initially coming off as a daft party girl, Cesar finds she’s much more thought-provoking than she lets on. Julia reveals that she witnessed Cesar stop time, a feat no one else has been able to catch. Cesar’s performance on television against her father caused her to step across party lines and investigate if he’s truly the man her father claims him to be, or something much more. However, Cesar can’t bear the thought of opening his heart to others after such a brutal loss, and kicks her out the door. But Julia’s intuition can’t keep her down for long, as she tails Cesar into the New Rome slums, where the power lines run empty and living statues crumble into the ground. Living hallucinations appear out of nowhere, as Cesar wanders into an abandoned building to commune with the ghost of his dead wife.
With Cesar out of the picture, Wow finds herself going after New Rome’s finest and weds Crassus, in hopes of usurping his fortune. What follows is an extravagant wedding celebration in New Rome’s rendition of Madison Square Garden. Chariot races, circus acts, unchained drug use, and a psychedelic live performance by popstar and vestal virgin of New Rome, 17-year-old Vesta Sweetwater. Megalopolis shows its twisted sense of satire again, as deranged billionaires pledge hundreds of millions of dollars on the virginity of Vesta, as she sings a song about purity to the crowd below. Here Claudio starts to plant the seeds of doubt, as he attempts to sabotage the reputation of Cesar by playing a sex tape between Cesar and Vesta on the jumbotron. The performance is ruined and the wedding melts down into a chaotic riot, as Cesar is accused of statutory rape, and Vesta Sweetwater’s purity is put into question. However, Claudio’s plan is soon thwarted after it’s revealed that not only is the sex tape a deepfake, but Vesta is faking her persona and is actually in her twenties. Despite the truth coming out, it isn’t able to keep Cesar from spending a night in jail, as he falls deeper into a pit of addiction and loses his ability to stop time. This wedding is easily one of the film’s most unhinged scenes. Filled with simultaneous stunning production design, wild drug trip sequences, and shakey greenscreen. It really shows how Megalopolis throws it all at the wall, not caring if it sticks, but rather if it feels right. That element of “what feels right” is going to be different for every viewer, but everything is engaging and keeps you on your toes, even if it’s not “good”.
Cesar crumbles into despair as he pushes himself into solitude. We find him sitting atop a steel beam, hanging from one of his skyscrapers. He stares into the windy clouds that breeze between buildings, lamenting the loss of his ability to control time and his flailing reputation. He blames himself for the death of his wife, as he believes his obsession with the future pushed her away until she completely disappeared. Behind him stands Julia, trying to convince Cesar that this is only but a misstep, not a fall off the ladder. Cesar remains unconvinced as Julia edges her way closer across a swaying steel beam. She gently pleads with Cesar to stop time once again, but this time selflessly, for her. While unconvinced, Cesar begrudling utters the words “Oh, hear me, time. For Julia… time, stop now.” The winds that once howled against the sunset freeze in place, amounting to less than a whisper. Cesar is befuddled and amazed at what just a little bit of trust could achieve. Bringing himself down to Julia, Cesar embraces her as they passionately kiss among the clouds, frozen in one perfect moment.
With a new lease on life, Cesar finds himself embracing the life he once knew as a creator, returning to work on his vision for Megalopolis, this time with Julia and a grand team of designers and engineers at his side. He sees Julia as a lover and an equal as they begin a new chapter of their lives. However, not all is right with the world. Claudio starts the rumbling of a resistance against the powers that be of New Rome. In the middle of the night, Cicero awakens from a nightmare. A vision of a giant cloud shaped like a hand, stealing the moon from the night sky. Cicero is then later informed that a Russian satellite once thought to land in Canada, is now on a collision course to the heart of New Rome, and there is nothing he nor Catalina can do to stop it. All they can do is watch in horror, as pieces of firey metal rain from the sky like bombs over the Statue of Liberty, and down onto the people of New Rome, crumbling the empire around them.
The next day, a press conference is held. The lights of the movie theater you are in rise, and an actor walks out in front of the audience watching the film Megalopolis. He directly talks to the screen and asks Adam Driver’s character “Mr. Catalina, you said that as we jump into the future, we should do so unafraid. But what if when we do jump into the future there is something to be afraid of?” Cesar responds “Well, there's nothing to be afraid of if you love, or have loved. It's an unstoppable force. It's unbreakable. It has no limits… But we do have the obligation to each other to ask questions of one another. What can we do? Is this society, is this way we're living, the only one that's available to us?” The deafening snap of a camera’s flash rumbles through the speakers, and the lights dim once again.
While for many, this fourth wall break of a real live actor talking to a character on screen, will be one of the film’s most memorable moments, I’d like to think that the next piece stuck with me the most. Cesar sits atop his palace walls looking down on a destroyed city he once called home. How can he have amassed so much power and wealth, while the people below him have suffered such a needless tragedy? While Cesar may have allowed love into his life once again, he still needed to open his eyes to those on the ground who pay for the walls that surround him. “Time, show me the future.” Cesar invokes his ability of time to enter a psychedelic trance of vision for society’s utopia. A vision that the people of New Rome will be able to share in their newfound Megalopolis, regardless of status, race, gender, or wealth. Cesar works endlessly through the night and back into the day. Second by second. Minute by minute. Hour by hour. Day by day. Time is no longer a limitation but a gift to all who are willing to accept. The smooth jazz of composer Osvaldo Golijov plays, as Cesar is greeted by out-of-body experiences, visions of building schematics that mirror plant life, and all the possibilities of a future that is not only prosperous but joyous.
However, Cesar’s vision for the future can’t keep him from lamenting his past, as he finds himself viewing the memories of his wife’s death and murder trial through a crystal ball-like projector. He sees the painful moments when Frank built a case against Cesar, accusing him of his wife’s murder. Julia sees the sadness in his eyes but knows that this is just the beginning, as she reveals to Cesar that she is pregnant. The sorrow turns to joy, and the possibilities of the future open up once again… unless Cicero has anything to say about it. Cesar’s relationship with Julia brings him eye to eye with the man he once called enemy, who whether he likes it or not, will soon be called grandfather. Over a game of cards, Cicero finds out that his daughter is pregnant with the child of the enemy, which sends him into an emotional downfall. Days later, Cicero secretly meets with Cesar, begging that Cesar excommunicate himself from the lives of his family. In exchange for this, Cicero offers not only his unwavering political support, but also an envelope containing evidence of his corruption during his tenure as the DA of New Rome, specifically during the murder trial. Despite Cicero offering just about everything Cesar could ask for on a silver platter, his new life as a family man will not be swayed.
Cesar returns to the ground level of New Rome, working on rebuilding what has been destroyed by the satellite. When approached by a young boy claiming to be a fan asking for an autograph, Cesar is caught off guard as the boy shoots Cesar in the head at point-blank range. This shocking turn of events comes straight from the heels of Claudio, who behind the scenes has been building a growing rebellion against the leadership of New Rome, planning to cap it off with the assassination of Cesar. This attempt sends Cesar into another psychedelic state where he’s greeted by visions of his past, present, and future, as the ghost of his dead wife tries to pull him to the other side. Cesar maintains the way and narrowly pulls through due to the help of Megalon and its medical properties. However, this builds a growing divide amongst New Rome’s top ranks, as no one can be trusted. Wow takes this opportunity to exploit the break in trust, and seduces Claudio to be her puppet in taking over Crassus’ empire. Claudio’s attempt at a hostile takeover sends Crassus into complete shock and betrayal, causing his health to nose-dive into critical condition.
Nine months pass, and Cesar and Julia get married shortly after the birth of their new daughter Sunny Hope, and near completion of building Megalopolis. Despite Cesar’s progress, the governmental powers of New Rome have dwindled now that Claudio has taken hold over the hearts, minds, and wallets of New Rome’s citizens. This shift in public sentiment forces Cicero into hiding as Claudio’s forces rampage the city streets. Claudio plans his final move of the takeover when he and Wow visit Crassus on his deathbed, where he lies barely lucid, with what looks like a comically large erection. Copolla then drops the mic with one of the film’s funniest and most unhinged lines “What do you think of this boner I got?” Crassus flips over the sheets to reveal that he’s not only holding a bow and arrow, but was faking his illness the whole time. He knocks the bow and shoots Wow directly in the heart, instantly killing her. Claudio tries to dive out of the way but gets an arrow directly in the ass, stopping the takeover right in its tracks.
Despite Crassus’ arguably brain-dead revenge plan, the people of New Rome are still in a flurry and now without a leader. Cesar takes the stand where he greets a restless crowd just outside of where Megalopolis is finishing construction. He gives a rousing speech that quells the worries of the people, promising that Megalopolis will provide a safe haven for all that enter through its gates. No one shall be denied. Crassus is roused into passion and signs his fortune to Megalopolis, funding Cesar’s ventures to come. Claudio’s once proud group of supporters turn ravenous and get their revenge for the false bill of goods he sold them with a good ol’ fashion beat down. With the gates of Megalopolis now open, Cesar, Julia, Cicero, and their new family stand hand in hand inside Times Square on New Year’s Eve, the clock about to strike midnight. With newfound hope for the future, Cicero holds Sunny in his arms as the family looks to all the possibilities in store for the world. As the clock counts down from ten, Cicero sets Sunny down on the floor, and just before one, Julia stops time, leaving all frozen, except for Sunny Hope, literally and metaphorically leaving the future in her hands.
“So that’s all well and good. But what the hell does any of it mean?” I hear you asking. Well, let’s crack this thing open. One of Megalopolis’ main thematic tools is time. It’s how we start off the damn thing. But how come this central idea is introduced at the very beginning of the film, but doesn’t play a major role in resolving the film’s plot? There’s no scene where Cesar stops time before a bomb goes off, and he doesn’t stop time when the satellite comes crashing down. What’s the deal? Time plays a crucial role in the story, it’s just more subtle than you might expect. Copolla constantly stated and restated through his press junket of Megalopolis “All artists control time. Painters freeze it. Dancers move in space with it. Gerta said architecture is frozen music. So art is about controlling time.” Time, and Cesar’s ability to control it, are a narrative and metaphorical link to his channel with his inner artist. A channel that throughout the film gets routinely blocked. When Cesar loses himself to drugs, shuts himself off to love, and finds himself wallowing in self-pity, he loses this ability. Only when Cesar opens himself up again to love and the other around him, he’s able to achieve his full potential. Copolla uses time as a clear visual link for the clogged creative in all of us. We routinely see throughout the film how shut-off characters fail, whereas those who open themselves up hit their stride. In other words, to create a better world for ourselves and our children, we need to open ourselves up to love again. That’s where we hit our stride.
But the importance of time doesn’t end there as the film explores Cesar’s psychedelic visions. These visions are yet another manifestation of time, and therefore his artistic sensibility. Cesar’s visions are a visual representation of how he as an artist is able to view the world differently. He sees the solutions where others see problems. He sees the beauty in something ugly. He can access this deeper subconscious part of himself, taking the film's thematic elements and making them literal. After the satellite crashes and destroys New Rome, Cesar asks himself “Time show me the future”, as we are treated to a psychedelic montage of Cesar’s visions. Cesar isn’t able to literally time travel through his mind, but rather when he opens his mind and heart, he can envision how to make a better world using his talents as an architect. Despite the film’s muddied line between the literal and metaphorical, Cesar is not a god. Once he gives in to temptation and self-loathing, he lacks the vision and ability he once had. We see this link once again through the eyes of Julia. She’s the only character throughout the film who can see Cesar using his ability. This is because as a character, she is on the precipice of achieving her full artistic sensibility. With this newfound vision, she literally sees her father differently, as he sits at his desk, head in hand, sinking into a pit of sand. As Cesar starts to shut himself off, Julia opens herself up, becoming the counterbalance to Cesar. She reminds him of what can be achieved when he opens himself up to the possibilities of the world. We are all artists. When we channel our sensibility we can see the world differently. When you look at the film through this same lens of using visuals to represent the metaphorical, it makes a whole lot more sense. Simply put, open yourself up and create a better world. Shut yourself off and the world shuts down too.
But time is only one part of Megalopolis’ grand message. Clearly, the film is also examining the idea of utopias. One of the main criticisms of the film was that while it talks big about the idea of utopias, it offers no insight into how to create one. But I suggest that this is rather a feature, not a bug. In a card game between Cicero and Cesar, Cicero states “Utopias offer no ready-made solutions.” Cesar retorts with “We’ll they’re not meant to offer solutions, they’re meant to ask the right questions.” Once again, Megalopolis makes its themes loud and clear. Copolla can’t magically give us the answer to solve all the world’s problems. Nobody can. The problems of our society are constantly shifting with no one definitive answer. It’ll be healthcare today, homelessness tomorrow, and something completely unknown decades from now. It’s a constantly moving target, with no one perfect catch-all solution. So Megalopolis isn’t interested in the solution, but rather sparking the question to find the solution. During the film’s now famous fourth wall break, Cesar states "Is this society, is this way we're living, the only one that's available to us?" All it takes is one look outside the window to see, clearly fucking not. There must be a better way. There is no way that our way of living is creating the best possible future for ourselves and our children. Megalopolis forces us to confront ourselves. Our own successes and failures, greed and selflessness. Are our actions contributing to the solution or the problem? And most importantly, are we considering the perspectives of others with the impact of our actions.
Questions about ourselves lead us into a greater discussion. A great debate. Near the film’s climax, Catalina exclaims from the edges of the gates of Megalopolis “We’re in need of a great debate about the future!” The discussion of how to fix our society will be just as important as the actions we take. The hard pill to swallow is that this debate is one that everyone needs to be a part of. All our friends, our enemies, our political opposites, the intellectuals, the crazies, the canceled, and everyone in between. This intertwines back to Coppolla’s casting choices of “canceled” actors such as John Voight and Shia Labeouf. In an interview with Rolling Stone Copollas stated “The cast features people who were canceled at one point or another. There were people who are archconservatives and others who are extremely politically progressive. But we were all working on one film together.” Through nearly every choice these thematic messages are being reaffirmed.
So what about Megalon? This miracle element that seems to come out of nowhere and always saves the day. It’s used to build skyscrapers and even save Cesar from death. Simple. It’s love. It’s empathy. It’s the dialogue. It’s the connection between the mind, the heart, and the hands. It’s all of these, that when put together and used properly can overcome any obstacle in building a utopia. Is it corny as hell and overtly optimistic? Sure it is! But in a world that’s so overtly pessimistic, is the idea of a better future really that crazy? Or are we so locked into our circular way of thinking, that even in fantasy we reject the idea of solving the problems that plague us today? Once again we are forced to examine our biases through the film’s themes made literal in the story.
It’s a bit of a nonsequitur (thematically appropriate I guess), but I wanted to briefly discuss Cicero’s nightmare of the moon being snatched from the sky. It’s a scene that comes out of nowhere and leaves as soon as it comes, but it left a notable impression on me. It’s one of the film’s moments I’ve had the hardest time cracking, and I haven’t found anyone else on the internet trying to crack it open. It’s clearly important to the film because Copolla felt the need to dedicate an entire poster to this one shot. The scene begins with a hazy vision of a cloud shaped like a hand pulling the moon right out of the night sky. Cicero wakes up in a hot sweat and talks to his wife. “The omens are bad, my love. I was looking at the full moon, when a cloud that looked like a hand grabbed it.” To which she responds “Only those in a nightmare are capable of praising the moonlight.” The scene ends, and like many other moments in the film, it is never addressed again. Notably, it does come right before the satellite crashes into New Rome, and right after Julia reveals to Cesar she’s pregnant. So what does this mean? I interpret the moon as a representation of the “natural order” or even “nature” itself. It’s an integral part of both our solar system and also human life. The hand that steals the moon is a representation of Cicero. By “stealing the moon” Cicero is disrupting the natural order of human progress. His greed and focus on a regressionist society are actively harming the way of life for the people of New Rome, and his incoming grandchild. The nightmare is a pivotal moment for his character arc, showing his turn from greedy mayor, to concerned citizen. Only now in a nightmare can he see the value of what he has tried to destroy. It’s a wake-up call (sorry) for those still living in a dream of a society that only serves their wants and needs without the consideration of others. The impending sense of doom also foreshadows the satellite to come.
While Megalopolis is stuffed with plenty of loaded themes, it’s also one of the funniest movies of the year. And yes, it’s intentional. New Rome and its inhabitants embody a hyper-real style of personality. Every character is a caricature, satirizing one or another element of the various personalities that “grace” the screens of our world. Vesta Sweetwater is a pretty obvious take on the innocent popstar good girl gone bad. It might be on the nose, but truth proves stranger than fiction when these exact character traits are shown with stars like Jojo Siwa, who amidst a sea of controversy, tried (and failed) to rebrand her innocent childlike look into a rebellious sex symbol. Audrey Plaza gives one of my favorite performances of the year as Wow Platinum, a clear parody of rage-bait political personalities like Megyn Kelly and Destiny. She gets some of the film’s best moments, as she runs free with the character, hamming up every second of screen time she gets. One of my favorite lines comes from a moment when her character 180s into a moment of deadpan delivery.
“How did you get the name Wow Platinum? Is it Greek?”
“I picked it up at Penn Station on my way to an employment agency.”
Complementing Plaza is Shia Lebouf’s performance as Claudio. Just like Plaza, Lebouf runs free with the character, eating up every moment he gets, and playing into Megalopolis’ funniest of scenes. “Pick up my hat” and his sex scene with Wow are some of the hardest laughs I’ve had in a movie theater this year. It’s a film filled with unhinged satire, and it makes the most of every line. It shares a very similar hyper-real tone to another hilariously unhinged satire this year, Coralie Fargeat’s The Substance.
Much has been said about Adam Driver’s Cesar Catalina. While his performance has generally been praised, there has been undoubted criticism regarding the writing of the character as a self-insert of Copolla, and the film at large as a self-indulgent vanity project. Cesar is presented as a toiled genius, that the world just doesn’t understand. He’s a visionary artist focused on the future. Cesar even says that if he and Julia’s child is a boy, they will name him Francis. On a surface level, the criticism seems valid. However, digging further into the character it becomes clear that this idea of the self-insert is much more complex than what meets the eye. Cesar might be a genius, but he’s also a drunk, a womanizer, and a recluse, just to name a few character flaws. He’s constantly tripping over his own feet because he can’t see beyond what he believes to be his own greatness. But it doesn’t stop there. When Cicero meets with Cesar to discuss the future of their families, Cicero tells Cesar to not call him Frank, but Francis. Once again, Copolla does self-insert himself into the film, this time not as the hero but as the villain. Coppolla uses multiple characters to examine himself as a flawed artist, who has had very public struggles in his art, life, and finances but always strived to be his truest self amidst the controversy. There is a constant self-awareness in the film that we are all capable of both insurmountable good and evil, an idea Copolla thoroughly explored in Apocolypse Now.
However, Copolla doesn't want to dismiss the idea that as humans, we all possess great intelligence, even genius, that can naturally unify us and guide us towards a common good. Copolla stated in an interview with CFO.com “Our species is one family, you and I are cousins, and we are all a family of geniuses…I think there has been an erosion of the idea that we are all geniuses, because if people think that way they are much harder to sell to and control, so it is deliberately [portrayed] that we consider ourselves less than what we really are.” Copolla’s optimism is undeniable, yet he remains critical of our character flaws that keep us from the inner genius that we all possess. Megalopolis might be self-indulgent, but it is self-indulgent in the most egoless way possible. With open hearts and minds, we can self-indulge and play within our creativity without feeding superiority or ego.
To really talk about this film, I’m going to have to get personal. Much more personal than I have ever been on this website, or in a public form before… I’ve struggled with depression, for a long time. In fact my whole life I’ve really struggled with my mental health to a pretty serious degree. It’s something that frankly, I’ve kept hidden from nearly all my friends and rarely discussed outside of my immediate family. I’m not ashamed per se, I just don’t know how to bring it up, nor how people will react. I don’t know if it’s a matter of trust, being self-conscious, or some ungodly mix of the two, but it’s something that I’ve always preferred to keep private. But now feels like an appropriate time to talk shop. Why? Because after a lifetime of medications, therapies, experimental treatments, and everything short of fistfighting god himself, I found myself on the spiritual precipice of finding an answer, and it oddly seemed to connect with my affinity for this film. So what was the answer? Ketamine. To those of you who haven’t kept up with the world of mental health and psychedelics, there has been a relatively new breakthrough in the world of treating treatment-resistant depression. Good ol’ horse tranquilizer (or neigh neigh sauce as someone on Reddit so eloquently put it). Now before I go any further, I need to say INCREDIBLY OUT LOUD that I am NOT a medical professional and you NEED to consult your doctor before making any decision regarding your health. All I’m speaking to is personal experience, NOT recommendation. With all your lawsuits now firmly in the trashcan, let’s continue. A general overview of how it works is that through a series of infusions (often called journeys), Ketamine is administered in low doses through an IV, inducing a state of “neural plasticity”. It opens up your worldview, making you more perceptible to positive change and outlook. In combination with this neural plasticity, the psychedelic effects of ketamine induce “visions” that allow you to reevaluate parts of your life that you found dissatisfying, or not working to your benefit. Add in therapy sessions to break down these “visions” and you get a winning recipe for what is the world’s hardest cake to bake. So yes, my mental health was in the proverbial shitter and I was looking for a solution. In mid-October, I went through this process and had one of the most emotional and life-changing two weeks of my life.
Under the influence of Ketamine, you feel a swift but gentle wave start to pull your conscious mind from your physical body. During my journeys, I would feel my body split into two, as I “left” my physical being. As I soared into another plane of being, time stopped to a crawl. I could physically see feelings, ideas, and concepts float between me. Ideas became literal as they rushed between my fingers like the sands of time. These ideas don’t always neatly brush past, and are often full of abstractions, as I’d feel them more than I’d conceptualize them. As this whirlwind of chaos flows past at what feels like light speed, all the ideas eventually fall into perfect place, shedding their abstractions and making themselves understood and whole. While each journey would explore new ideas and concepts, they often come back to central ideas of love and empathy.
When preparing for a journey, you work with a therapist beforehand to set an intention for your goals. With this intention you’d often directly ask a question such as “Show me a life without fear.” or “Show me how to control my emotions”. These were direct examples given to me during my preparation stages. While there is nothing that can truly compare to the real thing, I found that the aforementioned “Time, show me the future” scene was a very accurate reflection of a Ketamine journey. Upon revisiting this scene, I found myself nearly brought to tears as I felt like I was experiencing these highly emotional moments of my life, setting an intention to “show me” what life could be like. To see a better future.
In many ways, these ketamine abstractions reflect that of Megalopolis. It doesn’t take a genius to see that the film is very psychedelic and abstract in its approach to storytelling. Cesar is greeted by world-view-altering visions as his perception of time comes to a stop. He’s forced to reevaluate all the moments of his life so he can learn how to once again embrace love. There is indeed a narrow way through, where a better world is possible. A better you. But the only way to squeeze through the narrow corridor of life’s trials and tribulations is through love and empathy for one’s self and the collective (Or if you’re Cesar, megalon). Through this, all things are possible. In danger of making myself sound like a “literally me” meme, I felt myself in the same position as Cesar, rewatching the moments of my life as I fought to find my truest self as a man. A man who is innately an artist. It was a wild experience that felt like living a movie just as much as watching it. Does it wipe away any awkward writing, performances, or shoddy VFX? No. Do you have to trip balls on Ketamine just to understand the movie? Also No. I didn’t go through my infusions until weeks after watching the film, and I still loved it. But it is a lived experience that Megalopolis undeniably reflects, and it simply cannot be denied.
I’ve spoken high praise of Megalopolis and my personal ties to the film, but make no mistake, it is heavily flawed. It’s probably one of the most flawed 5/5 movies I’ve ever seen. For as much as I do genuinely enjoy this film, I don’t blame anybody for not liking it. For starters, Megalopolis presents us with a whole boatload of ideas but doesn’t present them in any easily digestible way. The dialogue shifts from side to side, up and down, with highly intellectual quotes from philosophers all the way to lines like “Go back to the cluuuuub” and “What do you think of this boner I got?”. High-concept ideas are casually thrown out and never examined again. While I loved many of the performances, they can often feel wildly different, with Nathaniel Emmanuelle seeming like she has no idea what movie she’s in. Dialogue shifts just as much as the visuals, ranging from old 1920s film techniques to epically beautiful scenes to greenscreen that feels much more at home on one of my After Effects projects from high school.
The narrative also strays far away from a traditional story structure. While there is a rough reflection of a three-act journey, the story really bucks any and all convention. If I were looking at “cleaning up” the film to fit it into a more presentable box, there are a lot of ways to make a lot of these concepts work and get the same message across. But part of the reason why I love this movie so much is because of how wildly unconventional it is, even when it doesn’t work. It’s pushing the envelope miles farther than any other “presentable” and “cleaned up” film could. There is so much that this film is trying to do, and it does it in a way that is so wildly unconventional from any other film out there. It goes from wildly stunning to stunningly wild. For those unprepared, it’s not going to be an easy ride. I think this is a large part as to why audiences pushed back so hard against the film. The media prepped this film to be a failure, and when audiences got a bunch of heavy ideas presented in such an abstract way, they rejected what they saw.
For some more conventional criticisms, I wish we saw more from side characters like Nush Berman, Jason Zanderz, and especially Cesar’s right-hand man, Fundi Romaine. Lawrence Fishburn kills the role for the brief amount of screen time he’s given. In watching the film, you can see that his character has a lot going on behind the eyes, as he plays an omnipotent God-like character that narrates over select moments of the film. It feels like there is so much that goes unexplored, explicitly with him, but also through other elements of the film. The ending is also wildly rushed, as it scrambles to tie together all the last plot threads in the final 10 minutes. Cesar seems to hand wave away all the problems of the world with a rousing speech when the people are at their lowest. I would have preferred that the ending get another 10-15 minutes to flesh everything out. I also understand that the film was pushing a long runtime, and most viewers probably wish the whole thing was a bit shorter. It’s appropriate to say that the film's general aesthetic feels just as undercooked. While Megalopolis is bursting at the seams with style, there is very little in the way of consistency. Cesar doesn’t seem to have a specific architectural style, nor does the city of New Rome. New Rome vaguely resembles a hodgepodge of classic NYC with some Roman influences, but it doesn’t feel like a city built with an architectural vision for a truly modern Roman city. The city of Megalopolis faulters in the same way. There’s quite a bit of bio-architecture, which can look pretty cool in the moment, but ultimately lacks a general cohesion or style that makes Cesar seem like he’s an architect with a singular vision. This lack of cohesion trickles its way into costume and world-building. It seems more like Copolla included all the ideas he found interesting, disregarding how they’d fit together or how practical they would be for the world he built. There’s a lot that Megalopolis gets right, but I just wanted more. Not a bad problem to have. That all being said, it still doesn’t stop me from wanting some Megalopolis merchandise. I’d buy the hell out of a design authority jacket or other items from the film.
Despite some of these shortcomings, watching Megalopolis in IMAX with a sold-out crowd was a blissful experience. If I can gush about the tech for just a little bit, Coppola really pushed what was possible and expected from the technology to create a one-of-a-kind film. While I always wish IMAX films were shot entirely in 1.43:1 aspect ratio, Coppola makes the most of these sequences and isn’t afraid to use the technology at his hands. I saw this twice in IMAX and I just wish I could go back and see it a third. It was that much fun. There is nothing like being with a packed audience to experience such a wild rollercoaster on the biggest screens in the world. It’s a visual feast. I appreciate IMAX making the commitment to Coppolla’s vision and promising him a bare minimum when it came to PLF distribution. We have so much technology available to us when it comes to the craft of filmmaking, yet it rarely feels like anyone is pushing boundaries the way Lucas did years ago or Coppolla is doing today. I really hope that this film will inspire others to take advantage of the democratization of filmmaking tech to rethink what the film experience can be.
How the hell do you wrap up something like this? Despite this being my longest review, it somehow feels like there’s still so much I want to talk about. But it already took me months to write this thing, and I don’t intend on spending 40 years making this into an epic. There probably isn’t some neat way to tie this all up together in a way that satisfies everybody, nor should there be. It goes without saying that I like this movie quite a bit. Every viewer is going to get something different out of the experience, so I recommend you watch this and see what it gives you. During a screening with BFI, Copolla stated his wish for the film “A future for you young people and all your children. That’s all I want. That’s the prize for me… My dream is that this film will be shown every New Year's and when you go home after seeing it and not say well I'm going to give up smoking or I'm going to give up eating too much. But instead, ask one question. Is the society we're in the only one available to us?” So let this not be an ending, but a call to action. Whether we like it or not, we all have to live in this world together, and despite the omnipresent pessimism of society, there is a world where we can not just coexist, but thrive. Megalopolis won’t change the world, but it just might be able to spark the mind that does. Be that mind. Change the world.
“…And that's our job, it's to spark somebody else watching us. We might not be the ones, but let's not be selfish and because we not gonna change the world let's not talk about how we should change it. I don't know how to change it, but I know if I keep talking about how dirty it is out here, somebody's gonna clean it up.” - Tupac Shakur