Mark Anthony Green’s directorial debut, Opus, ambitiously blends horror and satire in an attempt to deconstruct the mystique of celebrity culture. However, despite its striking visual style and an impressive lead performance from Ayo Edeberi (The Bear, Bottoms, Inside Out 2), the film struggles to sustain its narrative weight, ultimately falling short of its grand ambitions.
Alfred Moretti (John Malkovich) a reclusive and eccentric pop icon who vanished from the public eye nearly three decades ago. Now, after 27 years of silence, he re-emerges, inviting a select group of media personalities and industry insiders to an exclusive weekend listening party for his long-awaited new album.
Among the guests is Ariel (Edebiri), a smart and ambitious young journalist eager to make a name for herself at a moribund music publication, and failing miserably. But as the weekend unfolds, it becomes clear that Moretti’s motivations extend beyond a simple album premiere. What starts as a seemingly innocuous industry event slowly descends into something far more sinister.
Unsurprisingly, Malkovich is in scenery chewing mode with his portrayal of Moretti. His signature blend of theatricality and quiet menace makes the character both fascinating and not even slightly believable. As Ariel, Edebiri is positioned as the audience’s perspective within the chaos. She manages to steal the show from underneath the rest of the cast that also includes Juliet Lewis, Murray Bartlett and Amber Midthunder.
Visually, Opus is a feast for the senses. Green crafts a world that feels both luxurious and suffocating, using the isolated desert setting to heighten the film’s tension. The cinematography is carefully composed, using long, deliberate shots to create unease.
Adding a layer of musical authenticity, legendary musician Nile Rodgers, in collaboration with The-Dream, composes original songs for the film. Rodgers, known for his iconic work with the band Chic and collaborations with music royalty, delivers a compelling array of musical numbers, complete with sharply satirical lyrics that mirror the film’s themes.
Opus is a film with a lot on its mind. It wants to say something profound about fame, legacy, and the cult of personality, but it never quite figures out how to weave those themes into a coherent, compelling story. Green’s directorial eye is undeniable, but the film ultimately feels like an unfinished symphony—full of potential but lacking the structure to truly resonate.
Still, Opus might still offer enough intrigue to be worth a watch. However, those looking for a tightly constructed, fully realized narrative may find themselves slightly disappointed.
