Megalopolis is an incoherent mess and I loved every moment of it

In a world that loves to play it safe, this movie presents its balls so safe can suck them

*WARNING: It’s impossible to spoil the plot of Megalopolis for reasons that will soon be clear. But I mention like three things that happen at some point or another so if you consider that a spoiler, you’ve been warned.

Some years ago, Matthew McConaughey was asked to give a speech at some gathering or another about what New Orleans meant to him. His very first words would’ve been enough.

“First of all, what a big, beautiful mess it is.”

Again, Matthew McConaughey was describing New Orleans. But he may as well have been looking into the future and describing the movie Megalopolis. Or perhaps my love for New Orleans explains my how I feel about Megalopolis.

Okay, let me back up for those who are confused about what the Hell a Megalopolis is.

The short answer is: Megalopolis is my new favorite thing ever. The other short answer is: Megalopolis is the latest movie from legendary filmmaker Francis Ford Coppola. As in, the guy who created The Godfather trilogy. The guy who made Apocalypse Now. The patriarch of one of Hollywood’s most influential families. That Francis Ford Coppola.

Megalopolis is the definition of a passion project for Coppola. He first conceived of the idea in 1977 began developing it in 1983. He began planning to film it in 1989 only for it to go in and out of development for decades until 2021. Coppola’s desire was to make a movie drawing comparison between the Roman Empire and the United States. He considered it a personal opus.

Beyond how long it took to get started, the movie had a ton of production issues (Coppola productions have been notorious for those). The cinematic maestro had to sell a chunk of his winery in order to self-finance the movie in an effort to avoid the Hollywood movie system, which he’d been disillusioned with for years. The movie cost Coppola $120 million of his own money to make happen in the way he wanted it. He allowed actors to improvise during the shoot, made spontaneous changes the day of shooting and as a result he saw the art and visual effects departments resigning during the production process.

The word was studio execs were afraid to distribute the movie. The reviews were mixed but most were just flabbergasted after watching it. Eventually Lionsgate signed on, allegedly expecting to lose money at the box office. At the time I’m writing this, with the film having been out barely a week, it has only made $6.2 million and it’s not expected to make much more.

I’d long heard of the production issues and mixed reactions by the studio heads. I’d read there was a ton of confusion amongst those who saw it at film festivals. And I didn’t care. I knew for months I was going to see it in theaters. Not only because Coppola is a true living legend, but because of what he sacrificed in order to make his vision a reality. Because he refused to work through a production company in order to make the movie he wanted to make. Because even if the movie wound up being bad, at least it was different. At least he dared to be bold and make something that wasn’t the same cookie cutter crap you see everywhere now a days. And I was fully prepared to get out of the movie and write about all of that and how it was worth seeing even if it wasn’t good.

Instead, I’m telling you that you need to see this movie. No, not because it was actually amazing.

I don’t even know where to begin with this movie. It starts off with Adam Driver freezing time and only gets weirder from there. I’m talking dialogue from one character mixed with dialogue from another character that seemed to be from two completely different movies, neither of which was the one I was watching. Driver does nothing with the time freezing power and then seemingly loses it 45 minutes into the movie. Aubrey Plaza is playing April Ludgate playing a fictional Parks and Rec character opposite Jon Voight who is like a mixture of Tommy Wiseau and that old dude Anna Nicole Smith married. Dozens of subplots that seem to ultimately go nowhere. Shia LeBouf being Shia Lebouf. Laurence Fishburn narrating things that are clearly written on the screen in front of you. Dustin Hoffman plays a guy with barely five minutes of screen time that seemingly disappears from the movie halfway through. There’s a 10 minute diversion involving a supposed virgin singer who is believed to be a teenager only to not be a teenager and then becomes a sexually provocative punk rock star. I’m talking chariot races and gladiator fights in Madison Square Garden, only the movie takes place in the future and it’s not New York and there are drugs, it’s established that Frank Sinatra and Alfred Hitchcock exist in this universe and I don’t even know.

At no point in this two hour and 18 minute production did I have any idea what was going to happen next. Not because of an air of suspense or a tense atmosphere, but because at no point does this movie make any sort of sense. Where you may expect some sort of logic, Coppola says, “fuck your logic! This is happening now because I said so.” The entirety of Megalopolis, from the insane and equally absurd visual effects to Driver playing his role as serious as a heart attack while Plaza goes as gloriously over the top as possible, to the music which seems to have been put together by eight different composers at different parts of the film, the movie is an enormous, incoherent mess.

And I loved it. I absolutely, unabashedly and unironically loved it.

Confused? You must have just seen Megalopolis too. But seriously, I will admit once again I fully expected to defend this movie’s right to exist after seeing it. However, what I got was a one-of-a-kind viewing experience, the likes of which I have seen before. It was like watching 50 movies sewed together in Frankenstein like fashion. Never before have I witnessed a movie stick its middle finger up at its audience so boldly as if to say “this is what I am and it is not possible for me to care less what you think.”

In one way, the movie is what I expected: A bold work of art that defies any and all expectation. An artistic expression by a cinematic mad scientist that blows you away for better or for worse. In other ways, it was nothing like what I expected, as despite having no idea what the hell I watched, I found myself in the theater with only two other people on a Wednesday night applauding this completely absurd production. Early in the film, Driver quotes Hamlet’s famous “To be, or not to be” speech. Well, Megalopolis stares back at Driver and answers, “BITCH I MIGHT BE!”

Rest assured, it is by no means a “good” movie. There are moments you can tell Coppola had an interesting idea or theme he wanted to explore only to seemingly pull a Towely (get high and wander off). Whatever Coppola wants to say about Rome and America gets lost in the madness. There are parts that were clearly not intended to be humorous that I laughed out loud at. Make no mistake, this movie is worthy of no award consideration and I completely understand the bewilderment the befell the critics and execs.

Yet I still loved it. I loved it because in a day and age when formulas, algorithms and strategies rule the world of art that is cinema, Megalopolis dares to spit in the face of formula. It plows the wife of algorithm. It wipes its ass with the mere concept of strategy and proudly embraces utter chaos.

I had an English teacher in high school who was the absolute worst. I remember he used to always tell us, “Everything in the text is significant. Nothing is in the book on accident. The writer had a clear intention and purpose for everything. Everything has a reason to be in there.”

Horse shit. It was horse shit then and it’s horse shit now. Ironically, that teacher was the kind of person who would stick up his nose at the likes of Marvel and say “it’s all the same and plays it too safe.” He’d look at the work of Noah Baumbach and declare everything he touches a masterpiece, even if it’s just the same fucking movie over and over again.

But that ass hole would look at a film like Megalopolis and be offended by its very existence. Why? Because it doesn’t hold true to the narrative that “everything is here for a reason.” It takes a massive, steamy, smelly dump on reason and applauds itself for doing so. And that is precisely what makes it so fucking great. One of film’s greatest visionaries made something that was his. Something that was all the actor’s. Something that was truly unlike anything in existence. And because people don’t “get it” there are many who will hate it. But you’re not supposed to “get it.” In a world and time where everyone demands to know the reason why for everything, Megalopolis pulls a Kid Cuddi and says, “Why not? Motha fucka. Hehe.”

I had someone I know say he wanted to see Megalopolis because “it looks, SO BAD!” In a technical sense, it was bad. But I don’t personally think it is. It defies definitions of good or bad. Sure, there are some parts that genuinely were “good” and others that sincerely were “bad.” But on the whole, it simply was. It’s a movie that needs to be seen to be believed and it should be appreciated for the anarchist expression that it is.

This writing likely won’t sway you to go see it. It’s also highly likely if you do, you’ll just walk out befuddled and mystified. But I implore you to watch the movie on its own terms, which are now terms at all. Simply enjoy the magical ride that was this viewing experience.

Don’t look for Megalopolis at the Oscars. Don’t expect to see it on a major streaming service. The film may well end up bankrupting Coppola, but at least he went out exactly on his own terms. And at least he gifted us with this mess.

And what a big, beautiful mess it was.