This year has brought us two fascinating, if flawed, films from older male directors who have staked their large personal fortunes in order to fund these unwieldy passion projects. First there was Kevin Costner’s (ongoing) throwback Western “Horizon: An American Saga - Chapter 1” and now, Francis Ford Coppola’s long-marinating cinematic experiment “Megalopolis,” funded by $120 million from his popular wine empire. While Costner grapples with the past, and Coppola the future, both films attempt to say something about the present, and reveal ways in which the filmmakers are mired in old ways of thinking.

Even if “Horizon” and “Megalopolis” gesture toward sweeping, boundary-pushing ideas about storytelling, the approach to character, especially, feels old-fashioned and limited in a way that proves these auteurs haven’t quite kept up with the cultural moment, insulated in their own worlds of ideas.

With “Megalopolis,” where to even begin? It’s the story of a daring, misunderstood genius, Cesar Catilina (Adam Driver), who sees to create a utopia called Megalopolis, with his proprietary shape-shifting matter, Megalon. Set in a New York City avatar called “New Rome,” (and to employ a now hackneyed joke structure) “Megalopolis” has everything: time travel, pop divas, otherwise unemployable actors, circus weddings, an array of Coppola family members, a weird sense you’re watching a “Batman” movie, Aubrey Plaza stealing the show as a character named Wow Platinum, a mind-boggling amount of fedoras, and of course, an interactive theatrical element.

This interactive element is a concept that Coppola has been toying with for years, and unfortunately, it won’t be at every screening of “Megalopolis.” But the much-touted gimmick involves a live actor in the theater coming out to ask Cesar a question at a press conference, which the character answers (this section will be edited into the film where the live element is not available). It’s a bit overhyped, but Coppola certainly gets points for even attempting it. The first attempts at boundary-pushing will always be awkward and fumbling.

These Brechtian elements are threaded throughout the sprawling, discombobulated “Megalopolis,” with the intent to draw attention to the political message that Coppola hopes to impart. He uses the allegory of ancient Rome and the fall of the empire coupled with familiar fascistic imagery in order to draw parallels to our contemporary moment. Shia LaBeouf plays Clodio Pulcher, the gender-bending, hard-partying fail-son of banking magnate Hamilton Crassus III (Jon Voight). Attempting to wrest power from his cousin Cesar, Clodio cosplays as a populist, fomenting unrest and rising to political prominence.

But for all his nods to the theater, Coppola gives his protagonist, Cesar, the uncanny ability to stop time, an inherently cinematic quality. “Time, STOP,” he commands, pausing the universe for a minute. Caught up in political turmoil over the development of Megalopolis, and the grief over losing his first wife, the stress causes Cesar to lose this power, until the true love and support of his new lover, Julia (Nathalie Emmanuel) restores it.

Archetype drifts into stereotype when it comes to character in “Megalopolis.” While the male characters occupy spaces like genius, wealth hoarder, power broker, usurper, henchman and driver, the female characters are relegated to mother, muse, scheming seductress, party girl, lying virgin and dead wife. Coppola may be a “wife guy” (the film is dedicated to his late wife Eleanor) but his depictions of women in “Megalopolis” are reductive, though wildly entertaining thanks to the cast.

Along this spectrum of character, performances range from high camp (Plaza) to sincerely self-serious (Driver), and the tone is all over the place, as is the narrative. While the experience of watching “Megalopolis” is confounding, it’s never boring. Visually, the film alternates between looking like a generic car commercial and an art deco sci-fi fantasy. The dialogue is either cartoonishly overwrought or hilariously lowbrow, and the film swings wildly between these various poles at a dizzying pace. Though the film feels at times never-ending, the third act spirals wildly out of control, reaching a breathtakingly baffling crescendo.

There are spots of brilliance in “Megalopolis,” from Plaza’s outrageous performance to some stunningly gorgeous, if often narratively incoherent montages. Coppola still has the touch when it comes to crafting bravura cinematic moments, even though he never fully lets us be swept away by fantasy and sumptuous escapism in “Megalopolis,” returning always to thuddingly portentous and yet vague messaging time and again.

Yet there is something so distinctly human about this flawed endeavor. At a time when the existence of personal art is threatened by artificial intelligence, you simply have to hand it to the man to deliver something this boldly idiosyncratic, and ultimately, deeply earnest. So raise a glass of Coppola red (or a can of Sofia sparkling) wine, in a toast to his sheer madness, or to make the experience more tolerable. Either one will do.

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‘MEGALOPOLIS’

2 stars (out of 4)

MPA rating: R (for sexual content, nudity, drug use, language and some violence)

Running time: 2:18

How to watch: In theaters Sept. 27

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