When something is clear about “Megalopolis”, it is the Francis Ford Coppola has a lot on his plate.

The legendary filmmaker spent decades crafting this Roman-style epic, set in the present day, about a civilization on the brink of collapse. A few rich and powerful members of the old guard are ruining the golden city of New Rome, a new generation is caught in a culture war between hedonists and puritans, and a visionary architect caught in the middle of it all dreams of a different future.

But none of that can convey the thrill of actually watching Megalopolis, a sprawling, operatic, awkward and fascinating film that will likely provoke debate for years to come.

“Megalopolis” is not a disaster, but it is far from a success. It is a bacchanalia brimming with so many ideas, so many characters, so many great and also truly terrible lines, that it is almost impossible to process it all in a single, confusing viewing.

If there’s a focal point in this story, it’s Cesar Catilina, played by Adam Driver, an artist with the ability to stop time and who believes that a substance called Megalon, a shimmering musculoskeletal device that can be used to create a see-through (but not nude) dress or reconstruct a gunshot-disfigured face, is the path to utopia. Driver is a terrific actor, completely abused here as a grieving, alcoholic, “Hamlet”-quoting, megalomaniacal aristocrat who spends his days in an Art Deco ivory tower (the Chrysler Building), worrying about time and what corrupt mayor Franklyn Cicero (Giancarlo Esposito) is doing to the city.

We are supposed to believe that Cesar is a coveted catch who would win the mayor’s beautiful daughter, Julia (Nathalie Emmanuel), over to his side. But Kylo Ren had more charisma than Cesar. The story’s ability to sell Cesar as something special isn’t helped by Julia, who despite plenty of screen time is more symbol than character, and whose leaden dialogue gives Emmanuel neither life nor momentum.

Their Romeo and Juliet love story is labored, to say the least, despite some stunning footage suggesting otherwise. That’s a problem with many of the film’s conflicts and connections, all of which sound great on paper (and they should, since much of it is drawn from juicy Roman history), but fall flat in execution.

That’s not to say all the actors wilt under the excess. The great Talia Shire, as Cesar’s cold mother, does more than Driver or Emmanuel with just a handful of lines and scenes. Aubrey Plaza also seems to have understood exactly what “Megalopolis” needs from a character named Wow Platinum, an aspiring broadcast journalist who marries Jon Voight’s banking scion Hamilton Crassus III: a heavy dose of camp. She revels in the silliness of her dialogue and sees the comedic potential in every ridiculous moment.

It’s hard to overstate how much was packed into two hours and 18 minutes. Shia LaBeouf is Clodio Pulcher, the rich son of Crassus, who has eyebrows like Mae West and long, wild hair. He’s in love with Julia, jealous of Cesar, and possibly in an incestuous relationship with his sister Clodia (Chloe Fineman), a party-loving, socialite student. He tries his hand at politics on his own, preying on the city’s desperate peasant class. Laurence Fishburne is Cesar’s driver (and the film’s narrator). Dustin Hoffman is a fixer. Jason Schwartzman is there (and delightful, as always). There’s a pop star named Vesta Sweetwater (Grace VanderWaal), who has taken a vow of chastity. Even Romy Mars plays a teen reporter!

Megalopolis shines above all for its craftsmanship, including Milena Canonero’s decadent, Roman-inspired dresses, Osvaldo Golijov’s stirring, romantic score, and Mihai Mălaimare Jr.’s golden cinematography, which lovingly illuminates the feast of production design.

But this is a film I can only in good conscience recommend without reservation to cinephiles who would certainly see it anyway. It is, after all, Coppola’s first film in 13 years, and one that he has bravely and admirably financed himself. I hope it’s the film he wanted to make. For anyone else, it’s a harder sell – it’s not unworthy of someone’s time and money, but it’s also not guaranteed to be particularly rewarding or satisfying for someone hoping he’s made another Godfather (and who hasn’t seen Twixt or Tetro).

Coppola is an artist whose films sometimes take time to find their place in the hearts and minds of audiences. No one understands this better than he does. Whether or not there is a drastic reassessment at some point, Megalopolis will always be a fascination.

“Megalopolis,” a film that opens Friday from Lionsgate, is rated R by the Motion Picture Association for “sexual content, nudity, drug use, language and some violence.” Running time: 138 minutes. Two out of four stars.