The rocky American premiere of Megalopolis is a melancholy event for any number of reasons. Mainly because it marks the drastic decline of Francis Ford Coppola’s powers as a filmmaker, and it may turn out to be the failed work that ends his long career. But also because the critical commentary surrounding the film, whether positive or negative, is in general hugely depressing. The few positive reviews tend to urge upon audiences the necessity of feeling grateful for this film, or any other film that’s not a superhero movie or a sequel in a franchise or some tired reboot of a decades-old hit, because human expressivity in cinema is so clearly doomed.
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