Opus (dir. Mark Anthony Green)

by Jack Martin | Mar 13, 2025

Certificate: 15

Running Time: 104 mins

UK Distributor: Warner Bros

UK Release Date: 14 March 2025

WHO’S IN OPUS?

Ayo Edebiri, John Malkovich, Juliette Lewis, Murray Bartlett, Amber Midthunder, Stephanie Suganami, Young Mazino, Tatanka Means, Tony Hale, Melissa Chambers, Tamera Tomakili, Aimee McGuire, Chris Highlands, Justin Perry

WHO’S BEHIND THE CAMERA?

Mark Anthony Green (director, writer, producer), Josh Bachove, Colin Creighton, Poppy Hanks, Jelani Johnson and Brad Weston (producers), Danny Bensi, Saunder Jurriaans, Nile Rodgers and The-Dream (composers), Tommy Maddox-Upshaw (cinematographer), Ernie Gilbert (editor)

WHAT’S IT ABOUT?

A journalist (Edebiri) infiltrates the cult of a reclusive music star (Malkovich)…

WHAT ARE MY THOUGHTS ON OPUS?

Many of the problems with writer-director Mark Anthony Green’s Opus – and as you’ll find out, there are quite a few – can be summed up in, of all places, its title card. In theory, it shouldn’t be too difficult to make a four-letter title incomprehensible, yet the highly calligraphic font used for such a card (which comes in about ten or so minutes in) proves otherwise, not just rendering a simple word like “opus” almost illegible, but suggesting an overly artsy nature towards itself that’s all style – and not even an especially great one – and little substance, if any at all.

Of course, with a company like A24 that’s known for housing some truly out-there movies by visionary filmmakers too avant-garde for the mainstream studio system, it shouldn’t be too surprising to find that their latest film falls exactly within their wheelhouse. But Opus, which marks Green’s feature debut after a stint as a GQ journalist and with only the short Trapeze, U.S.A. on his filmmaking resume, almost feels like a parody of what a typical A24 movie looks and feels like, except it’s neither funny nor smart enough to let viewers in on the punchline.

The premise, for what it’s worth, is intriguing enough. It follows young aspiring journalist Ariel (Ayo Edebiri) as she and her editor Stan (Murray Bartlett) are unexpectedly invited to the remote compound of reclusive music icon Alfred Moretti (John Malkovich) to be among the first people to experience his anticipated first studio album in years. Once there, it’s immediately apparent – to Ariel, at least – that Moretti’s compound is nothing more than a common cult, filled with sycophantic admirers who worship the ground that their beloved pop star walks on, to where things become too disturbing for the intrepid reporter to handle.

There are a lot of themes and ideas at play here, notably the idea of celebrity being in and of itself a cult-like phenomenon that brings immense unchecked power to someone who is extraordinarily popular among certain sects. While not the most original idea in existence – not to mention the fact that we already live in a world where the cult of celebrity hasn’t just inspired toxicity towards anyone who has the slightest negative criticism against their idol, but also fuelled a certain current President’s populist campaign because they happen to have been a reality show star – it can, under the right circumstances, be crafted in a way that leaves audiences thinking while also giving them enough to enjoy as a movie in its own right.

Sadly, Opus does not follow through on its promise. Instead of truly exploring its weighty themes in a meaningful and insightful fashion, it opts for every cult trope in the book from its various blissfully docile members dressing and sometimes acting the same to the bizarre rituals they perform in ways that best please their musical overlord, including but not limited to passing and chewing on the same saliva-ridden piece of bread at dinner, and spending the day tirelessly cutting into oysters to find a rare pearl. The film sets some of these things up as though they’ll be important later on, especially when they dedicate entire scenes to explaining the logic behind having one’s pubic hair completely shaven in their leader’s presence, but most if not all of them end up going nowhere, making it feel like it’s all there for pure shock value or as a means to make the viewer feel uncomfortable rather than to add anything substantial to an already thin narrative. Hell, there’s another A24 movie out there about a cult that does much of what Opus does, but in more interesting and genuinely unsettling ways; it’s called Midsommar, and it’s much more worthy of your time.

But unlike Midsommar, which has freer rein to indulge in mindless nonsense as it actually serves a narrative purpose, Opus has more notable rules for itself that it constantly breaks, rendering it a film that consistently makes less and less sense as it goes along. As you witness the strange and intimidating behaviour of these cult members at the behest of their narcissistic leader (though fair play to John Malkovich, he seems to be having a blast playing what is essentially David Bowie crossed with Jared Leto), you start to wonder why nobody other than Edebiri’s Ariel is picking up on the creepy vibes radiating from every corner of this place, even if they are similarly enamoured with being in the presence of this famous person. It makes everyone other than our protagonist either oblivious or just plain stupid, and since the film never takes time to dig even just a little deeper into these characters and their one-note personalities, that ends up being the only defining trait of most people in this film.

Then, after a certain point, Opus spirals completely out of control in a sudden display of shocking violence that feels extremely unearned, in part due to there being very little logical reasoning behind much of it (such as why they didn’t just do what they do from the off, rather than drag its victims through this needless charade), as well as there being such a weak build-up beforehand that would have justified this abrupt turn. Even a supposedly thought-provoking epilogue indulges in overly elaborate exposition that makes the motives of certain characters even more confusing, before ultimately leaving you on an intentionally ambiguous but nonetheless unsatisfying note. By that point, though, you’re beyond caring about any of it, least of all because the execution is pretentious enough to put you off many of the A24 tropes it so unashamedly carries in its empty hollow shell.

If one were to take a guess at where things went wrong here, it seems like Green only ever submitted a first draft of the script before A24 gave him the greenlight, and in doing so he was denied the opportunity to go back and rework it until it made much more sense. At least, that’s what I hope happened, because again it’s not like the core concept doesn’t have promise, but just like its own title card it’s squandered by a frustrating artsy-fartsy sense of grandeur that looks pretty enough but hardly makes up for its substantial emptiness.

SO, TO SUM UP…

Opus squanders much of its potential with an undercooked script that makes little sense in its plotting, settles for a familiar set of cult tropes without the intelligence or shock value to back it up, and comes off as a pretentious commentary on celebrity worship that ends up feeling as vapid as the various personalities being mocked.