In a shocking turn of events that shocked precisely no one, Francis Ford Coppola’s long-gestating passion project, "Megalopolis," debuted to what can only be described as the cinematic equivalent of a funeral dirge. After spending several decades polishing this avant-garde jewel and even selling part of his cherished wine business for funding—because, clearly, when you think epic filmmaking, you think Chardonnay—Coppola must now face the grim reality of box office disaster. As the curtain fell on its opening weekend, the film raked in a total of $4 million across North America, bringing new meaning to the phrase "quiet opening." To put this in context, that number is more appropriate for your average indie film festival screening, where free popcorn and the desire to look virtuous while supporting local filmmakers often overshadow actual attendance. Move over, Sundance; we have a new contender for the “most unceremonious crash and burn.” Industry analysts are at a loss for words—no small feat in Hollywood—wondering how a film helmed by one of cinema's greats could flop harder than a fish out of water. In this age of superhero blockbusters and mindless sequels, it appears audiences were just not ready for a sprawling, philosophical tale that dares to ask, "What is the meaning of it all?" Such inquiries are, disappointingly, taking a backseat to explosions and shirtless protagonists. Coppola, notorious for his bold visions, reportedly responded to the lukewarm reception with grace, saying, “It’s not about the money; it’s about art.” This, however, rang hollow when he later realized he, too, has bills to pay after selling his Merlot for megalomania. Friends and colleagues were quick to console the legendary director by suggesting he consider the film for an Oscar pedestal, where “most ambitious flop” could become a new category. "A classic do-not-miss!" they proclaimed, but that enthusiasm didn’t translate into actual bodies filling the seats. For now, though, it seems “Megalopolis” is destined for a new enterprise: a future as a cult classic. With its esoteric themes, abstract visuals, and a complete absence of charisma or marketing appeal, it may just find a loving home on late-night cable alongside "Plan 9 from Outer Space" and other beloved cinematic catastrophes. Meanwhile, the film's marketing team is reportedly brainstorming how to spin the disaster into a new trend. “We’re considering an interactive experience,” one marketing executive said. “You know, something that allows viewers to yell at their screens in real-time.” As for audiences, they’ve expressed their preference to stick with something safer—like watching paint dry or silently enduring the latest sequel featuring a beloved character’s estranged cousin. Let's all raise a glass of Coppola’s wine and toast to dreams worth pursuing, even if they crash and burn harder than a rejected college application.