We expected it and we no longer expected it, Megalopolis, the ambitious fresco by Francis Ford Coppola, announced then postponed for forty years now. Ultimately, the veteran filmmaker self-produced it, investing 120 million US dollars in it from his own pocket. This is not the first gamble of the most megalomaniac of American directors, he who almost lost his mind during the nightmarish filming ofApocalypse Now (It’s the apocalypse) and which came close to bankruptcy after the flop of One from the Heart. A final challenge for a final film, therefore. Alas, the majestic swan song hoped for in Cannes instead turned out to be a terrible hiccup. Twice winner of the Palme d’Or, Coppola is unlikely to win a third with Megalopolis.
Rarely have I seen a talented filmmaker – and Coppola’s talent is as undeniable as it is considerable – fail, or finally turnip, to this extent. Because that’s what it’s all about. Despite its selection in official competition, the film has not yet interested any North American distributor for a theatrical release here: once you see it, that’s understandable.
Nothing works in this flashy dystopia weighed down by special effects ranging from average to mediocre.
The story, rewritten 300 times, says Coppola in Vanity Fair, takes various figures from ancient Rome and places them in the context of a New York of the near future. And to put pompous Shakespearean dialogues, infused with modern expressions in a completely random way, into the mouths of all these beautiful people.
The proverbial nails on a chalkboard are music compared to the gibberish heard in this narrative jumble full of unfinished ideas.
In fact, unsurprisingly considering the troubled genesis of the scenario, the plot is, to put it mildly, shaky.
We follow Cesar, an architect who has the gift of stopping the flow of time. Idealist and, yes, a bit of a megalomaniac, Cesar intends to transform the city into a utopia for all, which the conservative mayor takes a very dim view of. And there is Julia, the politician’s daughter, who develops a fascination, then an affection, for Cesar…
Added to this are subplots concerning Cesar’s jealous cousin, who moves into a Trumpian character, as well as Cesar’s ex-mistress, who still loves him even though she married the latter’s rich uncle. Freewheeling, Shia LaBeouf and Aubrey Plaza entertain in these caricatured scores, if not convincing.
In any case, they are doing better than Adam Driver (Ferrari), who, in the role of Cesar, has great difficulty adjusting his intensity levels: it is sometimes unintentionally funny.
Moreover, this is one of the many problems of Megalopolis : the film irrepressibly makes you laugh when it wants to be serious, but proves embarrassingly ineffective when it tries to be comical. As for the love story, it remains disembodied, even if Coppola places it at the heart of his film.
Assumed artificiality
In this regard, if we continue to associate the filmmaker with male violence since his masterpieces The Godfather (The Godfather), The Godfather Part II (The Godfather II) and obviously Apocalypse Nowlove is just as much a part of its cinematic DNA.
With the aforementioned One from the Heart, the beautiful, great cursed film that almost cost him his career, Coppola revealed an assumed romantic side. Entirely constructed in the studio, this other demiurgic self-production relates the odyssey of a separated couple, each spouse thinking of starting a new life with the partner of their dreams… before changing their mind.
This romanticism was subsequently verified in the marvelous Peggy Sue Got Married (Peggy Sue got married), where the heroine, who returns to the past, intends not to fall in love with her future ex-husband again… before changing her mind.
Rebelote in Bram Stoker’s Dracula (Bram Stoker’s Dracula), undoubtedly the adaptation most focused on the love story “through time” between Mina and the vampire count.
We find a little of these three films in Megalopolis : the voluntary and magnified artificiality of One from the Heart and of Dracula (here we move from physical tricks to digital effects), the temporal play of Peggy Sue Word Marriedthe thwarted loves at the heart of the three films…
If only the result had been of comparable quality.
Everything collapses
Despite the copious budget, the sets and costumes seem cheap, especially during scenes that take place during the day. These passages are particularly painful to the eyes as they are framed and lit haphazardly: one would believe that the director of photography, Mihai Mălaimare Jr. (Tetro), was then absent.
The nocturnal sequences, which precisely evoke the dreamlike aesthetic saturated with One from the Heart, are the most interesting, but seem to belong to a different film. Here and there, Coppola makes nods to his past idols: Fellini, Powell and Pressburger…
The long minutes pass (138 in total), and everything collapses. Fear prevails, as Megalopolis dark in nonsense.
François Lévesque is in Cannes at the invitation of the festival and thanks to the support of Telefilm Canada.