The discourse cycle has already chewed up and spat out Megalopolis, glibly sneering at this deeply ambitious and sincere movie by mockingly calling it “Megaflopolis” and “Megacockolis.” Joining in on the internet’s collective grave dancing can be fun, and many film fans have voraciously consumed the mockery given Megalopolis’s vaunted status as Francis Ford Coppola’s swan song. But the pure glee found in the takedowns of Megalopolis is deeply disheartening. The movie blitzes through various plotlines and themes, but it consistently emphasizes the beauty of creation and the necessity of passing down this priority to future generations. Additionally, Megalopolis disseminates this hopeful idea and various others through a striking digital spectacle that never lets up, feeling cutting edge despite being captured by an 85-year-old man’s camera.
In their overblown criticisms of the film, Megalopolis haters point to issues with plot, dialogue, and performance, but not even the biggest detractors can say that the movie lacks ambition. To render the marvel that is the titular city of Megalopolis required Coppola’s pure imagination in each and every frame. Throughout his career, Coppola has reminded us that art is ambition. Ambition can turn a mundane sentence into poetry by taking the swing to imbue each word with ideas, emotion, and beauty. In 1972, ambition turned an adaptation of a trashy, populist gangster novel into one of the greatest films ever made by taking the risk to depict ideas, emotions, and beauty with both formal classicism and experimentation. Megalopolis may not have the same precision as The Godfather, but it does tell a grand fable bursting at the seams with optimism, ambition and beauty, all things we should relish in cinema.
Hudson Witte is a freshman in the College majoring in pretension and minoring in contrarian studies.
Comments