Venice Review: MEGADOC Offers an Inside Look at Francis Ford Coppola’s Iconic Bold Move

      A risky filmmaking endeavor with Francis Ford Coppola––what could possibly go wrong? More accurately, consider what could go extraordinarily right. While not all of his films have experienced troubled and tumultuous productions, the inherent chaos of creativity he seeks to channel––along with the inevitable conflicts that arise with his collaborators––is where he ultimately flourishes. Remove these elements, and the outcome likely resembles Jack.

      You can clearly distinguish the creative process of developing and scripting Megalopolis from the challenging work of bringing it to life. However, the struggle of the latter often serves as a crucible through which many of his most acclaimed films have passed, emerging on the other side as masterpieces. Assessments of quality in contemporary Internet film culture are always fluid, and a well-articulated argument (even presented on X or Letterboxd) can significantly influence a film's critical standing. There's enough interpretive flexibility to view Megalopolis as yet another masterpiece of unrestrained personal expression from Coppola, while at the same time (or alternatively) perceiving it as a pretentious, disappointing failure.

      With more similarities to Apocalypse Now in its self-financed beginnings than to his studio-backed highlights (which extended up to Bram Stoker’s Dracula in the early ‘90s), it was clearly essential to create a documentary capturing the on-ground experiences. Enter Mike Figgis, familiar with iconoclastic, independent filmmaking and Hollywood revenge narratives. As we watch MEGADOC, the 107-minute outcome premiering this week at the Venice Film Festival, we can’t help but ponder what Figgis wasn’t allowed to show. Nevertheless, his documentary is crucial for understanding what Megalopolis is and what impeded it, and perhaps even for realizing that greatness was not its inevitable outcome.

      Primarily focusing on lengthy, engaging vignettes––beginning with rehearsals, then scenes being filmed (and filmed repeatedly), along with a few revealing interviews with both leading and supporting creatives––MEGADOC expands on what we’ve gleaned from the obviously biased trade reports that chronicled its production. However, it does not serve as a correction to that media coverage; by visualizing the chaos that surrounded Megalopolis, we can recognize that those articles (particularly in the Hollywood Reporter) didn’t come from nowhere.

      What stands out is the minimal discussion regarding the film’s celebrated themes––its optimism, futurism, and often-unconvincing social commentary. A partial insight comes from Coppola mentioning how frequently the script was rejected over its decades-long development (though not by the A-list actors attached in earlier versions); studio collaboration could have potentially eased his journey, rather than solely being a production from American Zoetrope. Figgis’s most striking footage captures him grappling to translate those ideas, still somewhat undeveloped, into visual and dramatic frameworks, whether it’s about finding the right tone, effectively positioning the actors in front of the camera, or balancing post-production visuals with on-set design. Shia LaBeouf (playing the politically driven Clodio) occupies the majority of screen time in these earlier scenes, and alongside Dustin Hoffman’s amiability toward Figgis’s access, the film unwittingly becomes a platform for these scandal-tainted individuals to gain some positive, rehabilitating publicity. While the resignation of production designer Beth Mickle––hired as a diplomatic gesture toward contemporary Hollywood due to her work on James Gunn’s superhero films––is highlighted as a pivotal moment in the whole saga by Figgis, it’s also tempting to believe that Megalopolis would have arrived at its current aesthetic state (beauty, scope, ugliness) regardless of its tumultuous beginnings.

      Filmmakers observing MEGADOC will likely feel acknowledged and validated for their diverse methods, witnessing Coppola’s distinctive leadership style. A notable comparison is made with the recently restored Hearts of Darkness: A Filmmaker’s Apocalypse, where Coppola is often seen on his feet, active and aware. While it’s clearly less feasible for someone in his mid-80s, the director's constant presence in his close-to-camera fold-out chair, giving off the impression of a fading, melancholic ruler, suggests a particular atmosphere. Yet something as unruly and ultimately enduring as Megalopolis (with a potentially less-compromised, “weirder” cut reportedly in the works) could only originate from him and his resolute artistic philosophy. He may be seated, but he’s not surrendering; he remains awake and alert as ever.

      MEGADOC premiered at the Venice Film Festival and is set for release on September 19.