Coppola wins
Within minutes of Megalopolis, I sank into my seat.
Oh boy, I thought. Francis Ford Coppola’s decades-long passion project wasn’t going to be good.
I was at a packed Alamo Drafthouse screening of the self-financed 120 million-dollar film, and everyone was quietly respectful. Perhaps to a fault. Part of me believes Francis wanted us all to have more fun.
I amassed a crew of ten to see it, and while no one could honestly call it "good" afterward, we all loved talking about it over drinks. In fact, it was maybe the most lively conversation about a movie I've had in years.
Yes, the film is crazy. Sometimes stilted and sincere, sometimes outlandish and cartoony. But it's never boring. The two hours and eighteen-minute running time never felt like a slog.
Can you say that about most superhero movies?
And the crazy thing? The conversation has spilled into several text threads.
I can't stop thinking about the film, and it's making me wonder if I actually like it?
Sure. You could say that this has the makings of a cult film. A "so bad it's good" movie. A guilty pleasure.
But most "guilty pleasures" come from people who aspire to greatness.
Coppola once said that it's criminal to be pretentious. But that one must swing for the fences. To say fuck it.
For a world that seems more anti-corporation than ever, I find it odd how many people are delighted by Megalopolis's poor box office performance. An original big budget film with no corporate backing.
Here is one of America's finest living artists, putting his money where his mouth is and realizing a passion project at the age of 85.
The headline shouldn't be about how much money the film made.
The headline is that it exists.
Say what you will about the movie, but know that Coppola, the idealistic artist, the one striving to make an original film in a corporatized hellhole—
has won.
