This film is madness, from start to finish—its transformation into a project, its release in theaters… Megalopolis is a film that Francis Ford Coppola spent $120 million to bring his dream to life. And by “dream,” I don’t mean a vision he longed for, but rather the kind of feverish nightmare we see while tossing and turning in bed, drenched in sweat with a 104-degree fever. It’s a hallucination—a series of fragmented scenes, an endless rush from one adventure to another.
The symbolism used in the film feels artificial, making it difficult to watch. It’s more like a tangle of AI-generated imagery or the kind of animated cutscenes used to narrate stories in video games. You keep waiting for the real action to begin, but it never does.
It seems that no one dared to say, “Sir, is this even a film?” to Coppola, simply because he is Coppola. At the end of his career, he has shattered every rule of cinema. Of course, he can do this—who else but Coppola has the right to reinvent cinema? But for what purpose? Not to serve the story, but rather like an abandoned building being demolished simply because the neighborhood has lost its prestige.
Coppola has a message, but neither his words nor his storytelling method feel revolutionary. The film presents a vision of the future, but by trying to express it through the architectural and spiritual transformation of a city, it ends up resembling nothing more than an overblown real estate ad promising paradise in the form of a soulless high-rise.
Coppola imagined a collection of visuals and characters, seeking answers to existential questions within the constraints of time and space. To do this, he built disjointed scenes and open-ended characters. However, these characters fail to create a balanced world. Adam Driver, playing a visionary genius with raw physicality and energy, is placed opposite Nathalie Emmanuel, who is meant to be the film’s contemporary and captivating female lead, but unfortunately, she falls flat in comparison.
But does the film have nothing worth celebrating? Of course, it does. Kudos to Coppola for treating cinema as a playground, for refusing to fit into a mold, and for carrying the banner of artistic freedom. Coppola is Coppola—he can do whatever he wants, and if he wants to make a film like this, so be it.