Megalopolis (2024)

 

Review: Megalopolis (2024)

Francis Ford Coppola’s Megalopolis is an ambitious work, rich in visual and thematic complexity, yet it stumbles in its attempt to deliver a cohesive and innovative narrative. While it explores grand ideas about civilization, decadence, and progress, its execution falls into clichés and overly simplistic resolutions. The film recalls movies like Dark City (1998) with its dystopian aesthetic and thematic parallels, but it lacks the freshness one might expect from a visionary filmmaker.

Megalopolis unfolds as a fable, drawing comparisons between contemporary America and ancient Rome, portraying an empire in decline, rife with corruption, unelected leaders, social decadence, influencers, and excessive luxury. This critique of the powerful, however, feels mired in the same extravagance it seeks to criticize, reflecting the very decadence Coppola seems to want to address. The first half of the film is captivating, but the second half succumbs to predictable narrative arcs and a simplistic division between good and evil, which undermines the richness of the human experience, rarely reducible to black and white.

That said, Megalopolis shines in some of its more abstract ideas. One standout theme is that true progress requires breaking barriers and preconceived notions, embracing individuality as a driving force. If we remain stuck in solving problems without proposing alternatives, we risk stagnation. The concept of time as a “superpower,” not in the sense of control but as the ability to savor every moment with awareness, is another intriguing idea, as is the metaphor of losing this power during moments of depression or exhaustion. This resonates deeply, as we all have times when we feel we’ve lost the ability to perceive the world and cherish time. The film also explores the notion that civilization could ultimately be the cause of its own destruction — not a new idea, but an effective narrative foundation here.

The actors, led by Adam Driver, Giancarlo Esposito, and Nathalie Emmanuel, perfectly execute the director’s vision. No single performance stands out, which is a positive, as it allows the ensemble to shine as a whole. Visually, Megalopolis is stunning. The cinematography uses contrasts of light and shadow to illustrate the possible futures presented in the film: one warm and bright, the other cold and dark. These contrasts are reflected not only in the settings but also in the characterization of the figures.

The dystopian sets, blending elements of the past, present, and future, evoke comparisons to Bioshock Infinite, with memorable details like scaffolding that appears to hover over the city. The soundtrack complements this aesthetic, mixing classical influences reminiscent of operas and imperial stories with noir elements, creating a rich and immersive atmosphere. The editing is perhaps one of the film’s strongest aspects; the repetition of certain images in different sequences allows for varied interpretations, showcasing meticulous work by the editing and creative teams.

Despite its technical brilliance and intriguing ideas, Megalopolis ultimately falls short with a resolution that feels overly simplistic and fails to reflect the complexity of the world — especially outside the American political spectrum, where the division between good and evil is more pronounced. In the end, the film is also about muses and the idea that love drives great ideas, but it approaches this from an outdated perspective, where women are seen more as adornments than as equal partners.

Overall, Megalopolis is a good film that doesn’t quite reach its ambitious goals. Still, I recommend watching it on the big screen, where its visual and auditory elements can be fully appreciated. I give it a 7 out of 10. It’s a film worth seeing for reflection and discussion, even if it stumbles in some areas. After all, everything I’ve said is just my point of view — and that’s all it is, the view from a single point.