Denne gangen har jeg l?nt ut bloggen min til en av v?re PhD-stipendiater, Judith Hendriksma som arbeider med en avhandling om Hekate i arkaisk poesi og kult. Her skriver hun imidlertid om noe helt annet, nemlig en futuristisk film inspirert av romersk historie. Og det er et innlegg som passer spesielt godt p? denne bloggen ettersom den romerske episoden filmen tar utgangspunkt i er den romerske skurken Catilina, som jeg jo har skrevet en del om p? denne bloggen (s?rlig i artiklene Catilinaria I-IV). Catilinas resepsjonshistorie har v?rt mangslungen, men han har hittil ikke f?tt hovedrollen i noen film. Det har Coppola gjort noe med. Og som v?r egen Ibsen, ser han ikke n?dvendigvis Catilina som en ensidig skurk. Ja, han g?r faktisk enda lenger enn Ibsen, for her lar han sin futuristiske byggmester (en Ibsen-referanse, mon tro?) Cesar Catilina faktisk f? en sjanse. Jeg fikk ikke sett filmen da den gikk p? kino i h?st, men her reflekterer Judith Hendriksma over resultatet.
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‘When does an Empire die?’ is the initial question Francis Ford Coppola set out to answer with his new and probably last film, Megalopolis: a Fable. Fully self-financed, Coppola aimed to tell a story about building a utopian future while bound by the limitations of the present via the depiction of a futuristic mixture of New York and ancient Rome. Despite this captivating question about Empire with a capital E, Coppola did not go for the straightforward ancient Roman narrative of the end of the great empire; his film features no Roman emperors, no collapsing borders or sacked cities, no toppling of a dynasty, but rather focuses on a different, yet major crisis in the history of ancient Rome. Coppola examines the decline of Rome’s core tenets in the period preceding Caesar’s dictatorship in the first century BC, which led to the beginning of the Empire under Augustus. This was a time of chaos, with civil wars and political unrest. It is refreshing that Coppola did not repeat the tired narrative of the Fall of Rome at the end of the Empire, which has often been used as a model for modern times of perceived degeneration and regression. Rather, he chose another well-known period from Roman history less closely connected to the trope in the mind of modern audiences. (That is not to say, of course, that it was any less imperialistic: Rome had just incorporated Greece and parts of Asia minor, and Caesar’s conquest of Gaul was on its way.) And as mentioned in a previous blog post by Mathilde Skoie, this particular even from Roman Republican history, Lucius Sergius Catiline’s political conspiracy in 63 BC. had not yet made its way to the big screen, until Coppola tried his hand at it.
Using the past, and especially the Roman Empire and Roman ideals of republicanism as commentary on modern politics is nothing new. Coppola, however, chose to set his story in the far future, mixing historical nostalgia with science fiction utopianism. That begs the question: what exactly does Roman history add to his vision of the future in Megalopolis? What does the past look like reimagined as the future?
Catiline and Caesar
It is clear from the very start that the utopian dream that is Megalopolis (‘Great City’ in ancient Greek, and a real Greek city at some point!) is the product of a solitary genius, Cesar Catilina. The name combines two famous agitators from the 1st century B.C.: Coppola, wholly focused on Lucius Sergius Catilina (Catiline in English) and his famous conspiracy, but was advised by famous classicist Mary Beard to add Caesar to the name since it was more famous, and since it conveys the exceptionality and subversive politics of his main character a bit better. Caesar’s crossing of the Rubicon, his stunt as sole ruler of Rome and eventual assassination are what people truly remember of the Late Republic. The combination furthermore makes sense through the lens of Cesar’s staunch antagonist: Franklyn Cicero, inspired by Roman lawyer and statesman Marcus Tullius Cicero, mayor of New Rome in this reimagining. The historical Cicero was a champion of the optimates, the conservatives in the Roman senate, and thus opposed to the populist politics of Catiline and Caesar, as well as Clodius Pulcher, another leader of the populares faction. Clodius shows up in the film as Clodio Pulcher, a philanderer who preys on the fortune of his and Cesar’s banker uncle, Hamilton Crassus III (based on Marcus Licinius Crassus, one third of Caesar’s famous triumvirate).
The name Cesar is used solely to hint at the character of the protagonist as a revolutionary and a visionary; the plot largely follows events from Catiline’s life. For clarity’s sake, I will refer to Coppola’s characters with the names that are most distinct from their ancient counterparts (Cesar, Franklyn, Clodio, Hamilton). That said, it is clear that Coppola chose to stay rather close to their historical names as a shorthand for their characterization.
Catiline as architect
Catiline’s rowdy run in Roman politics is reimagined as a career in architecture, where the image of a ‘new’ city is expressed physically through Cesar’s invention of Megalon, a shiny miraculous material that fulfils a variety of functions for humanity. Instead of fighting for a new social or political order, Coppola’s Cesar fights to change the world and change humanity via his art, with the idea that humanity will evolve positively as a result. He is opposed in this by Franklyn, who tries to stop him from gaining real estate and gaining the support of the people at every point, and by his cousin Clodio, who is simultaneously creating political disorder via an ever-growing group of supportive rioters and trying to gain control of their uncle Hamilton’ bank, which holds Cesar’s assets as well. This web of intrigue leads Clodio to forge a sexual scandal between Catiline and a (not so) underage popstar (the audacity of which outrages Franklyn) and an attempt on Cesar’s life, which he survives by reconstructing his own skull with Megalon. In the end, Hamilton leaves his fortune to Cesar, who gets to build his Megalopolis and calls down the mob with an epic speech. He and Franklyn have a happy ending via the marriage between Cesar and Franklyn’s daughter, Julia, who had been supportive of Cesar all along.
The reputation of Cesar as a bad boy, however, is somewhat neutered by Coppola’s desire to present Cesar as an artist rather than a politician. Catiline’s claim to fame was for a (alleged) conspiracy during Cicero’s consulship, when, after losing the consular election for the second time, despite accumulating massive debt via bribes, he attempted to gain the consulship by force. This attempted coup which cost him his life does not feature at all in Megalopolis. Rather, Franklyn recites Cicero’s most famous speech against Catiline, In Catilinam, when Clodio releases the sex tape at a widely publicized wedding and so causes the scandal. Thus, Cicero’s famous demand (‘how long, Catiline, will you continue to abuse our patience?’) does not refer to Cesar’s undermining of democracy or instigation of violence, but rather his sexual morality. Although the allegations that that scandal are based on were no less dire for ancient Romans (Catiline had supposedly deflowered a sacred Vestal Virgin, which was sacrilegious), it does not hold the same weight in a futuristic film: only the reputation of the lovers is under fire, instead of the justice and peace of the entire city.
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On (not) addressing "the Cicero-problem"
Nearly all contemporary sources we have of Catiline’s conspiracy are by Cicero himself: thus, the man who had most to gain from Catiline’s fall is also the only primary source for his motives and secret, illegal actions. Although the contemporary historian Sallust wrote a historical account of the Catilinarian conspiracy, it is Cicero’s four speeches against Catiline (In Catilinam), performed in the Roman senate, his personal letters which were published after his death, and his vast oeuvre of publications (political as well as philosophical), that have put the largest stamp on our historical understanding of the Late Roman Republic. Coppola’s film could have done so much more with the ‘Cicero problem’, as scholars like to call it, of historical reputation and legacy in contrast to true events.
A less “villainy” Catiline is not a wholly unique take on this historical character’s life, as Henrik Ibsen’s first play Catiline also featured a sympathetic portrayal of Cicero’s legendary nemesis. Mathilde Skoie has written extensively on Catiline’s legacy and his modern reception, as well as Ibsen’s portrayal of him. Ibsen wrote of the historical Catiline, in his prologue to the second edition of this play, ‘Erindres b?r det ogs?, at der gives f? historiske personer, hvis efterm?le har v?ret mere udelukkende i modstandernes vold, end Catilinas.’ (‘It should be remembered, that there are few historical figures, whose legacy has been more exclusively subjected to the violence of their opponents, than Catiline’).Within the framework of Megalopolis’ narrative, Coppola could have had Cesar be framed for illegal actions (for example, an attempted takeover of Hamilton’s bank) or any of the violent riots which in the film are instigated by Clodio. Cesar would then have been much better fleshed out and have truly hit the mark as a bold and misunderstood yet benevolent genius, and have an actual connection to the nebulous future mankind he proclaims to be so concerned with. Furthermore, the boldness of his actions alone could have made him appear scandalous enough so as to entirely supplant the less favourable side plots about his drug use and supposed sexual mishaps. In the film, the only character truly interacting with the nebulous mob of new Rome inhabitants (presumably disenfranchised people pushed to the brink of desperation) is the manipulative and pernicious Clodio.
Cesar taking over some of Clodio’s actions in the film would have worked quite well, since Catiline and Clodius used the same political talking points in their attempts at gaining political power: both were champions of the populares, and argued for debt abolition and the redistribution of property in order to gain the support of the plebs, but in successive decades. Cesar mentions debt abolition exactly once in Megalopolis, in the epic speech that calls down the rioting mob from destroying the construction site of Megalopolis. Yet this issue is never truly explored in the film, nor does our solitary genius even pretend to concern himself with the discontent of the poor until they actively threaten his passion project. Instead, a lot of intrigue happens around Cesar while he attempts to build Megalopolis, but his greatest obstacle in the film, the sex scandal, is resolved nearly as soon as it arises through Julia’s efforts.
Missed opportunity
In many ways Coppola therefore leaves us with a rather passive protagonist, who does not have to fight his own battles, and never truly addresses the attempted blackening of his name. The film’s divergence from the historical account, a happy ending for Cesar and a bright new future under his and Julia’s careful watch, never divulges what makes that ending so happy, or whether it is happy for anyone but the mains characters.
Instead of questioning whether (Cesar) Catiline is or ever was either a visionary or a vandal, you’re left wondering whether Cesar’s vision of the utopian Megalopolis is worth fighting for in the first place. Coppola’s evasive attempts to present it as utopian with as little concrete vision as possible leaves one wanting. Meanwhile Clodio, whose historical counterpart incited violent mobs to keep the senate in a populist chokehold, and whose violence got several more upstanding politicians exiled or killed, gets killed to make way for Cesar’s inheritance of Hamilton’s fortune, proving Clodio’s point that the city of New Rome is ‘for sale’ after all: it just so happens to be sold to the well-meaning solitary genius of the story who is only rough around the edges. Pfew!
Megalopolis is an absolute spectacle of epic proportion, with an unbelievable cast and at times spectacular visuals, but its script is moreso the suggestion of a good drama than an actual story of intrigue or achieving the impossible. This is most apparent in its use of the historical material: at its crux, it refuses to truly set its teeth into the troubles of either the past or the present, shying away from questioning the nature of justice, ambition, or individualism and community. Rather, it creates a smokescreen of references and connotations, which the audience is left to ascribe depth to. More than anything, this demonstrates the enormity of Megalopolis’ potential, had it not been the carefully coddled passion project of a revolutionary artist from the past. As such, Megalopolis is moreso nostalgic than truly futuristic: it uses the legacy of grand Roman republican narratives to express contempt for our own times and mores, and hide how little vision it has for the future.
Department of Philosophy, classics, history of arts and ideas
University of Oslo
13.01.2025
Texts cited in the blog post:
Breznican, Anthony. ‘Francis Ford Coppola’s Megalopolis: An Exclusive First Look at the Director’s Retro-Futurist Epic’ Vanity Fair. Published April 2024. Consulted November 21st.
Cicero. In Catilinam 1-4. Pro Murena. Pro Sulla. Pro Flacco. Translated by C. Macdonald. Loeb Classical Library 324. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1976.
Cicero. Letters to Friends, Volume I: Letters 1-113. Edited and translated by D. R. Shackleton Bailey. Loeb Classical Library 205. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2001.
Ibsen, Henrik. 1875. Catilina. Drama i tre akter af Henrik Ibsen. Denmark: Gyldendal (F. Hegel) 1875.
Sallust. The War with Catiline. The War with Jugurtha. Edited by John T. Ramsey. Translated by J. C. Rolfe. Loeb Classical Library 116. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2013.
Further reading about Megalopolis:
Rather than additional reading, I would like to recommend the exceptional podcast by Tansy Gardam, Going Rogue, which delves into the production history of the film, and its experimentations with live theatre filming methods. This account forms a complementary explanation for the film’s difficulties with scripting and post-production editing.
For Norske lesere:
Ciceros f?rste og andre tale mot Catilina er oversatt av Tor Ivar ?stmoe i boken Klassisk talekunst – greske og romerske taler fra Gorgias til Cicero (Vidarforlaget 2009).
Sallust, De bellum Catilinae finnes oversatt til norsk av E. Kraggerud i Catilina & Ibsen (Aschehoug 2005) og i Thorleif Dahls kulturbibliotek av Trygve Width i Catilina og Jugurtha (Aschehoug 1963).
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