I try to be tolerant when friends insist on telling me about their revelatory dreams; I try not to change the subject too abruptly. After all, the dream-teller is a friend. I ought to humour his compulsion to find meaning in nonsense.
I had a similar feeling while watching Francis Ford Coppola’s newest movie, Youth Without Youth. Since he started making films in the late ’60s, Coppola has given moviegoers more intense pleasures than perhaps any other American director. The Conversation, The Godfather, The Godfather II, and Apocalypse Now all stand as epic achievements of modern cinema and his past greatness inclines me to cut him some slack when he’s struggling to say something. And Coppola is definitely struggling to say something in Youth Without Youth. It is a shame, then, that what he manages is so incoherent and banal, like a clueless friend’s stupid dream.
Set in Europe before World War II, the plot centres on brilliant linguist Dominic (Tim Roth) who is determined to discover the origin of language – a goal he feels utterly compelled to fulfil, even when it costs him the love of his life, Laura (Alexandra Maria Lara). The film’s early scenes lay the framework for the competition between a life’s work and a life of love, jumping backwards and forwards in time, Dominic young and zealous in one scene, aged and disappointed in the next.
In his aged state, Dominic is struck by a bolt of lightning which endows him with superhuman powers, He digests entire books by merely picking them up. He wills objects to move and sees into people’s thoughts. He is even restored to youth, taking on the appearance of a man in his 30s. His implausible goal suddenly seems attainable.
If all of this sounds fantastical, weird and a tad incoherent, that’s because it is, and it only gets worse. Over a couple of hours, Dominic is reunited with Laura, now Veronica, who holds the key to vast stores of spiritual wisdom. Nazis want to harness Dominic’s powers for their own nefarious ends. Decades pass by as Dominic amasses knowledge of language, philosophy, and religion. Continents are traversed as Dominic and Veronica investigate the most arcane mysteries of existence. And a whole lot of bad dialogue issues from the mouths of a host of talented actors.
The bad writing is, in fact, the central problem with Youth Without Youth. Coppola is credited with the screenplay, as he was in the previously mentioned masterpieces, but his writing has ‘improved’ with age in the same way George Lucas’s has. It has got worse: characters behave inscrutably, florid philosophical pronouncements abound and the ‘rules’ of Coppola’s fantasy world shift arbitrarily for the sake of convenience.
Scattered throughout this dross are a handful of gorgeous shots, and Roth does a commendable job labouring through a difficult role. But perhaps the brightest spot is Lara. Her beauty is positively luminous and her acting chops aren’t too bad either, but even she isn’t enough. Youth Without Youth is the work of a master artist trying to regain the brilliance of his early career. However, Coppola just isn’t up to the task.

Matt McKillop