MEGALOPOLIS (2024)

The city of New Rome is the main conflict between Cesar Catilina, a brilliant artist in favour of a utopian future, and the greedy mayor Franklyn Cicero. Between them is Julia Cicero, her loyalty divided between her father and her beloved.

After 13 years away from filmmaking, Francis Ford Coppola returns with Megalopolis, a film brimming with ambition but teetering on the edge of chaos. This epic blend of ancient Rome and a futuristic New York City—rebranded as “New Rome”—tackles grand philosophical ideas, but its execution struggles under the weight of its sprawling narrative and overstuffed subplots.

At the heart of the film is Cesar Catilina (Adam Driver), a visionary artist with the ability to manipulate time, who believes that a substance called Megalon holds the key to a utopian future. His adversary is Mayor Cicero (Giancarlo Esposito), a figure who represents the forces of tradition and the status quo, standing against Catilina's radical plans for a new society. The tension between these two characters drives much of the plot, but their conflict is only one of many threads that Coppola tries to weave together.


Megalopolis offers an intriguing vision of a dystopian future, where modern technology and Roman influences coexist. Adam Driver’s portrayal of Catilina is bold, with his Caesar-inspired bowl cut and philosophical musings lending an air of gravitas. His romance with Julia Cicero, played by Nathalie Emmanuel, serves as a central subplot, though it feels undercooked and laboured. The chemistry between the two is lacking, and their relationship doesn’t add much emotional depth to the narrative.

The film's supporting characters are equally eccentric. Shia LaBeouf stands out as Clodio Pulcher, the spoiled and erratic son of a powerful family. Clodio is embroiled in political intrigue and family drama, with his love for Julia and his possible incestuous relationship with his sister adding layers of discomfort to his arc. Yet, like many characters in Megalopolis, his motivations feel underdeveloped, and his actions often lack meaningful consequences.

Visually, Megalopolis is a feast for the eyes, though it can be overwhelming at times. Coppola has pulled out all the stops with elaborate sets, stunning costumes, and a golden-hued cinematography that evokes the grandeur of ancient Rome. The costumes, designed by Milena Canonero, blend Roman aesthetics with modern flair, giving the characters a striking presence on screen. However, while the visuals are often spectacular, the film's lack of narrative discipline detracts from their impact.


Coppola’s love for experimental filmmaking techniques is evident throughout the movie. The use of split-screens, kaleidoscopic imagery, and a constant interplay between CGI and practical sets creates a sensory overload. At times, the screen divides into three separate scenes, creating a disorienting effect that can be both mesmerising and frustrating. These moments, while visually innovative, contribute to the film’s overall lack of coherence, making it hard to follow the already complex storyline.

Despite its ambitious premise, Megalopolis suffers from a disjointed plot and too many underdeveloped ideas. Coppola introduces numerous subplots involving political conspiracies, power struggles, and familial conflicts, but few are given the time or space they need to fully develop. The result is a narrative that feels both overcrowded and incomplete. There are moments of brilliance scattered throughout the film, but they are buried beneath layers of convoluted storytelling.

The film's dialogue is another point of contention. Coppola borrows heavily from Shakespeare, Marcus Aurelius, and classical philosophy, imbuing the characters with a sense of intellectualism that feels forced. While the film clearly aims to tackle big ideas about society, power, and legacy, much of the dialogue comes across as stilted and unnatural. Characters often speak in grandiose terms, but their words lack the emotional weight needed to make these philosophical debates resonate with the audience.


One of Megalopolis’ core themes is the cyclical nature of history, drawing parallels between the fall of Rome and the current state of American society. The film paints a grim picture of a world teetering on the edge of self-inflicted destruction, with powerful families vying for control and the lower classes left to suffer. This exploration of societal decay and the potential for renewal is one of the film's more compelling elements, though it is often overshadowed by the sheer volume of plot points Coppola tries to cram into the story.

Perhaps the most striking thing about Megalopolis is its sincerity. Despite its flaws, the film is earnest in its belief that art and intellectual conversation have the power to shape the future. Coppola’s vision for the film, while messy and occasionally nonsensical, is undeniably heartfelt. There is a certain charm in his refusal to conform to the familiar patterns of contemporary cinema, even if it means alienating much of his audience.

In terms of pacing, Megalopolis is uneven, with moments of frenetic energy followed by long stretches of philosophical meandering. The film’s runtime of 138 minutes feels both too long and not nearly enough to explore all the ideas it introduces. By the time the credits roll, many questions remain unanswered, and several characters’ arcs feel incomplete. Yet, for all its narrative shortcomings, Megalopolis remains a film that dares to take risks, something that can’t always be said of mainstream Hollywood.


The film’s biggest flaw is its lack of focus. Coppola attempts to juggle too many themes and characters, resulting in a film that feels more like a series of disjointed vignettes than a cohesive story. There’s no clear narrative structure, and the film’s many twists and turns often feel more baffling than intriguing. As a result, Megalopolis is a difficult film to engage with emotionally. While it’s easy to admire the scope of Coppola’s vision, it’s much harder to connect with the story on a personal level.

Despite all its chaos and incoherence, Megalopolis is a film that should be seen, if only to witness the audacity of Coppola’s vision. It is a deeply personal project, one that grapples with the legacy of both the artist and society at large. For those willing to embrace its strangeness, there are moments of breathtaking beauty and thought-provoking insight. However, for many viewers, the film’s lack of narrative clarity and emotional resonance will make it a challenging and, at times, frustrating experience.

Megalopolis is an ambitious, sprawling, film. It is visually stunning, intellectually daring, and unapologetically bold, but its lack of focus and coherence prevents it from reaching the heights of Coppola’s earlier masterpieces. While it may not be a success in the traditional sense, Megalopolis is a film that will likely be discussed and debated for years to come, a testament to the enduring ambition of one of cinema’s greatest auteurs.

Megalopolis is in NZ cinemas from September 26, 2024
Classification: TBC
Runtime: 138 minutes