Confusion is the enemy of drama

Several years ago I was in Calistoga and happened to meet Francis Ford Coppola – as one does. It was the fourth of July and he was attending the local parade. He’d been the guest speaker at the graduation for the film school where I teach so when our mutual friend introduced us I was able to compliment him on his inspiring speech that past June. That was how I wound up at his family’s fourth of July party later that afternoon. It was like any other family forth party – except for the star quality. His cousins and nieces and nephews include many recognizable actors – so I kept having that feeling like, “wait – is that… Nicholas Cage loading up on macaroni salad over there?”

It was memorable and weird. From the rattlesnake  I had to dodge while walking to the lake to having Mr. Coppola berate me for not having children. “What are you doing with your life?” I mean, I mostly just enjoying it, actually. But you know how sometimes you have those moments where life is very weird and you sort of wonder what glitch in the matrix brought you into this place. I get what an honor it is to be a casual drop-in guest at a family event like that. And I was also kind of antsy to go because no one hates small talk more than me.

I had that same feeling last night when I went to see Megalopolis BY MYSELF of course because the reviews have been horrible. I was hoping that maybe it was super great and that it was just too smart for dummies. No, it’s terrible. Look, I really wanted to like it but it’s a mess. It is what happens when you have a messed up script with no emotional connection to a human scale story. It was all big ideas that Coppola had been ruminating on for 50ish years. It’s proof that no amount of talent (I mean from Coppola to the cast) and no amount of money ($120 million budget) can paper over a bad script. It reminded me of some of the scripts my students write – these bombastic polemics about IMPORTANT ISSUES. So really, it’s something that a 30-year-old guy in the 70s dreamed up and an 80-year-old guy in 2024 executed with the proceeds of his wine fortune. I so wanted to like it. I even thought I’d give it the full benefit by seeing it in IMAX at the Chinese Theater – you know, the hallowed ground of cinema. It was really big, and really loud. I will say this though, Aubrey Plaza is a national treasure. And I totally think the movie’s heart is in the right place. FFC is asking all kinds of important questions of the audience – big questions. But I’ve always found movies to be a terrible vehicle for ideas and a great vehicle for emotions. I totally should have asked him about his dream project back at that Fourth of July picnic and then pitched myself to rewrite his script. Not that I’m the person who should be rewriting Coppola – but maybe?