Mixing ancient Rome with a futuristic universe is the challenge that Francis Ford Coppola takes on in this film that he has been preparing for several decades. Despite a plot that is difficult to follow, Megalopolis fulfills its role and invites us to question the actions of previous and future civilizations.
It’s hard to understand a genius. It took Francis Ford Coppola more than forty years and €120 million to make this film. Simple madness or a true masterpiece, that remains to be determined. What is certain is that Megalopolis do not leave indifferent. Sitting in his seat, the spectator finds himself propelled to IIIe millennium, in a fascinating mix between Antiquity and future. In this often difficult to follow plot, New York has become “New Rome” and is based on an oligarchic regime characteristic of the Roman Republic. The American director pits characters from large families with illustrious (and somewhat cliché) names against each other. On the one hand, César Catilina (Adam Driver), a powerful and visionary architect, dreams of creating a utopian model of society. On the other hand, Franklyn Cicero (Giancarlo Esposito), the city’s mayor, wants to replenish the coffers with concrete constructions and casinos. Through this fable in several scenes, Francis Ford Coppola calls the viewer to reflect on civilizations condemned to reproduce a system against which they fight. The message is powerful but struggles to reach the recipient. Ambitious, the film drags on and is cluttered with confusing passages. Ancient Rome, omnipresent, is reduced to games, a few laurel wreaths and decadence. Finally, the predominant gold aesthetic, alternating between kitsch and technology, also raises questions. But mixed with all this, the message conveyed, the deliberately theatrical staging and the acting of Adam Driver make this work unclassifiable and place, once again, Coppola in the position of the misunderstood genius.
Science fiction, by Francis Ford Coppola, with Adam Driver, Giancarlo Esposito, Nathalie Emmanuel (2h18).
