When I came out of the very first Cannes Film Festival screening of Francis Ford Coppola’s divisive, controversial, and endlessly-discussed Megalopolis—the epic tale of Cesar Catilina (Adam Driver), an ambitious city planner in a futuristic New York, now christened New Rome, who falls for the daughter (Nathalie Emmanuel) of an ideological opponent (Giancarlo Esposito)—I was in a daze.
As I watched the film, I had more questions in my head than I could feasibly hold at one time: why did a movie which is so concerned with holding powerful men to account choose to cast Shia LaBeouf, Jon Voight, and Dustin Hoffman? Why is Adam Driver reciting Hamlet’s “To be or not to be” soliloquy in full? And, oh my God, wait, why is there suddenly a man on the stage?
While I’ll probably spend the rest of my life processing what just happened, below, find five initial takeaways from the most surreal screening I’ve ever attended.
There was a bizarre piece of live theater
Somewhere in the middle of the film, as Driver’s Cesar is speaking to camera, the screen briefly went blank. There was a confused smattering of applause from those who thought it was all over—if only we’d been so lucky—but then, with the lights still down, a man ran onto the stage in front of the cinema screen from the wings, holding a long microphone. Would Francis Ford Coppola be coming onstage for an impromptu Q&A? Was this a stage invader who’d gotten tired of the film’s incessant sloganeering and was mounting a protest? Was there an urgent announcement that meant we all had to leave the screening immediately? No—it was part of the film.
Positioning himself on one side of the stage, and now lit by a spotlight, the man then faced Driver, now back on screen, and asked him a question, as if participating in some strange pandemic-era Zoom press conference. Driver answered, and the man then rushed off stage again. It was so odd, and felt so completely pointless, that I didn’t know how to respond. I only hope that when this film hits cinemas in the UK (the release doesn’t yet have a North American distribution deal), this nonsensical component is replicated across the nation.
Nathalie Emmanuel is a goddess
She couldn’t save the film, but it’s hard to deny the actor’s star power in a role that might easily have fallen flat. Warm, watchful, and subtle, she brings a groundedness to Megalopolis that almost no one else does. And, in a movie with chronically underwritten and frequently caricaturish women, she’s the only one who really passes muster. If nothing else, I hope this gigantic platform brings the Game of Thrones alum even bigger parts in future.
Aubrey Plaza gives it her all
Playing a ’70s-Bond-girl-esque character called Wow Platinum (yes, you read that right), a Wall Street TV reporter who seduces Cesar and then marries his elderly uncle (Voight), Plaza throws absolutely everything she has into Megalopolis. With sheer commitment and her usual tongue-in-cheek delivery, she manages to make you feel like she’s in on the joke, a feat I can’t imagine anyone else pulling off.
Jon Voight flaunts his, er, assets
Spoiler alert for those concerned, but among the many scenes which I’ll never be able to unsee is one which involves Shia LaBeouf and Plaza visiting Voight, with her dressed in a revealing bralette. Cue a giant bulging in Voight’s trousers and him boasting that she always has this effect on him. Except, he’s tricked them—he whips off his robe, and underneath it is a crossbow! I wish I were joking.
The aftermath was brutal
When we all first settled into the screening and the logo of Coppola’s production company, American Zoetrope, appeared on the screen, there was much cheering and applause, including from the guy to my left. But I noticed that even he, worn down by the film’s posturing, later started checking his watch to see how much more we still had to endure. Several people walked out, and I spent most of the film just giggling to myself. Meanwhile, the guy to my right kept sighing heavily and shaking his head. When the credits rolled, he, along with many others in the theater, started booing loudly, while others clapped.
When we trooped out to the foyer, I started laughing again and shared stunned looks with the people beside me. A woman behind us whispered, “What the fuck was that?” Then we noticed that there were a flurry of cameras and reporters outside, clamoring to ask attendees what they thought about Cannes’s most breathlessly anticipated release, having been the first to see it. I saw a man step towards them and look straight down the lens. “It’s the worst film I’ve ever seen,” he said flatly.