If you’re even remotely interested in Coppola’s cinema, the development of Megalopolis was impossible to miss. A project that had been in the pipeline for so long, we never thought it would make it to our screens. And this despite the director’s relentless efforts to have it produced, financed and distributed. But let’s be honest, who better than Francis Ford Coppola to represent one of the biggest bets in cinema history, with its $120 million investment? A man who all his life fought against a studio production system incompatible with his vital desire for creative freedom on his projects. A man who on more than one occasion invested everything he had (both physically and financially) in a single film, sometimes to great effect with Apocalypse Now, but also to devastating defeat with One From the Heart.

If current box-office numbers are anything to go by, Megalopolis seems to be going the way of the second option. And it has to be said, trying to sell Coppola’s latest madness to the average moviegoer is a tough assignment. And yet, his futuristic, utopian work represents everything that makes the filmmaker and his filmography unique. The idea of building a better world (Megalopolis) in the midst of a progressively doomed world run by an elite lost in the pursuit of profit, idleness and lust. At the heart of this elite of immeasurable wealth is the Cicero family, headed by Mayor Franklyn Cicero (Giancarlo Esposito). The parallels between Cesar (Adam Driver) and Francis Coppola are not hard to see – indeed, one might even say they’re deliberately apparent in making Cesar the main character and major opponent of this outdated system. Through his inventions and creations, Cesar seeks to create a better world through art. But his imaginations and materials clash with a refractory, old-fashioned but functional vision, as Nush Berman (Dustin Hoffman) retorts: “Concrete Concrete Concrete!”.

The filmmaker seems to have no shortage of creativity and imagination when it comes to directing his Megalopolis. By alternating between conventional and largely experimental shots without transition, Coppola deliberately provokes us into trying to see his film in a different way from other films. By isolating the conversation with a circle, split screens or scenes with multiple overlays, the visual aspect is undeniably the film’s most intriguing and interesting element.

Despite the rich and often varied scenery, Megalopolis struggles to create striking roles and well-paced dialogue. This consequence also stems from Coppola’s approach to writing dialogue: from one scene to the next, interpretations shift from contemporary acting to a more theatrical style (hence Cesar’s reprise of the To or not To Be soliloquy). While this mix can lead to unexpected interactions between characters, most of the time it results in uneven acting. Even if Adam Driver and Nathalie Emmanuel (playing Julia Cicero) come off well, it’s at the cost of a few breaks. It’s less of a question for more eccentric characters such as Claudio (Shia Labeouf), played by an actor we’ve come to expect from his hard-nosed performances.

Visually as well as narratively, Megalopolis is dense, to the point where Cesar’s personal preoccupations, his desire to build Megalopolis, and the plots within the Cisero family gradually blend together to form one cluster of narrative knots. Yet there’s a certain charm in the decrepitude of New Rome as Cesar and Fundi (Laurence Fishburne) drive through the city in the rain, plunging into thick clouds of smoke. Cinematographer Mihai Malaimare Jr. captures with a certain pessimism a city left to decay in its slums, littered with statues embodying the former glory and integrity of the city.

But one thing remains certain after Megalopolis: Coppola still believes in America, but even more so in cinema and the power of art, in all its forms, to change the world. A utopian, naïve vision, one might even say, but one that makes up Coppola’s entire cinema and life.

Whatever one thinks of it, there’s no denying that Megalopolis is full of stuff – sometimes too much, often expressed in a clumsy, even questionable way – but you can’t take away from the film that it’s the most Coppola of Coppolas, drawing on everything that made his career as a filmmaker (Tucker: The Man and His Dream) or producer (Koyaanisqatsi).

Whatever rating you give the film, there are surely arguments to support it. But in the sea of mass-produced films, made with a mold we know every inch of, Megalopolis has the merit of trying to show something else, something different, something strange. To provoke us and make us react, two elements so fundamental to cinema that we’ve forgotten all too well.