I liked “Megalopolis” a lot, but admittedly I have a high tolerance for cult movies. (Well-engineered by-the-book storytelling feels increasingly boring. It’s a

I liked “Megalopolis” a lot, but admittedly I have a high tolerance for cult movies. (Well-engineered by-the-book storytelling feels increasingly boring. It’s a much greater pleasure to be constantly surprised and occasionally frustrated by an earnest attempt for cinematic poetry.) I loved the “Jean Cocteau meets Showgirls” overall vibe. The madcap acting and superficial dialogue recalls silent movies and even Guy Maddin’s work. The visuals are like the world’s most expensive B-movie — in a good way. It seems people have a hard time seeing movies as an artificial composition. Actors and their lines are referential elements within a work, not a reflection of reality. Everybody understands this in theatre and opera, but somehow cinema audiences seem to have regressed in this regard. (I’m assuming viewers of Cocteau’s “Orpheus” didn’t complain that it’s not actually possible for a man to walk into a mirror. Yet that’s the kind of criticism we hear about elements in “Megalopolis.” The whole architecture thing is a metaphor, not an actual proposition for redesigning cities.) I’m glad Coppola got to make his film, and I look forward to rewatching it in decades to come.