OPUS (2025)

Ariel Ecton (Ayo Adebiri) is a young journalist struggling to make an impact at the pop culture magazine she works at. She has all the ideas, but her editor Stan (Murray Bartlett) doesn’t believe that she can be anything more than a glorified assistant. Her problem, according to her friend Kent (Young Mazino), is she’s just middling. Not bad enough to quit her role but not good enough to become the publishing sensation she hopes to be.

Ariel’s career trajectory changes when iconic singer and former enfant terrible Alfred Moretti (John Malkovich) invites her to his private compound. After decades out of the limelight, the David Bowie/Marilyn Manson-esque shock rocker has returned with a new record (with catchy new songs written by Nile Rodgers and The-Dream). Moretti is neatly introduced via a montage of podcast and social media clips from recognisable faces and talk show hosts. Opus doesn’t waste its time on character introductions and world-building; the writing swiftly lays out all the pieces. It just doesn’t know what to do with all its good ideas and interesting characters.

Tagging along with her is her editor Stan, who tries to relegate and belittle her at every opportunity, alongside special guests talk show host Clara Armstrong (Juliette Lewis), influencer Emily (Stephanie Suganami), controversial podcaster Bill (Mark Silverstein), and paparazzo Bianca Tyson (Melissa Chambers).

When they arrive at the compound, it’s not quite the retired rock star villa they expect. Instead, they are greeted by the unsettling Jorg (Peter Diseth) and find Moretti living amongst a group of teachers, creatives, and children. This set-up and all that it promises are far more interesting than the final result.

Horror fans will be deeply disappointed when Opus fails to deliver on its promises of thrills and scares. You could be fooled into thinking that a Midsommar (2019)-style climax is coming, yet Opus takes the easy way out. Overeager and intense minder cult member Belle (Amber Midthunder) does the heavy lifting when it comes to building tension. Belle takes her role in shadowing Ariel and catering to every need the extra mile. Midthunder’s stern face and Terminator-like determination deserved to be put to better use. For some baffling reason, the big showdown between the two women is concealed behind a closed door, cutting all the tension.

Opus draws out the middle act, slowly unravelling the mystery of what’s going on. Ariel is the only person in the group of media commentators who sees that something is off, that this behaviour goes far beyond your standard celebrity worshipping. She soon learns that Moretti and his fans are Levellers, a meditation and creativity-focused religion. The director allegedly wrote a full version of the 350-page cult manual seen in the show, yet their belief system is frustratingly under-investigated.

Despite its second-act issues, Opus’s epilogue effectively ties together all the themes and gives the narrative a point of view. The final few scenes do the heavy lifting for the entire film, resolving leftover plots and filling out the important narrative themes. The film needed to use the smarts and energy of the closing act and distribute them throughout the entire film.

Mark Anthony Green’s directorial full-length debut, Opus, is a film that works better on paper than it does play out on the big screen. It wants to say something about the cult of celebrity, but it never scratches beneath the surface level. Zoë Kravitz’s Blink Twice (2024) was far more effective at exploring the lengths to which an attractive and famous man can abuse their power.

Opus may struggle with the contents, but it’s a beautifully produced film. The film looks and sounds great, filled with shots and set pieces that are far more interesting than the accompanying writing. An oyster-shucking scene (a religious task for The Levellers) is so horribly visceral, thanks to the squelching soundtrack, you can almost smell the fishy stench of the room. The scene where Moretti dramatically lip-syncs a new song to his guests is both entrancing and horrifying, the camera spinning around the room and the cast. The visuals lean more on horror than the writing, filming the compound and its inhabitants in an immediately eerie way.

Green, who also penned the screenplay, has not yet mastered the concept of ‘Show Not Tell’. Opus is filled with overly long expository monologues that can be easy to lose focus on. Despite the verbose dialogue-heavy writing, Opus doesn’t have much to say that hasn’t already been expressed by more imaginative films. As a former GQ magazine writer himself, you would have thought Green would be able to dive deeper into the relationship between megastars, their fan base and the media. Ultimately, Opus is frustrating in its lack of point of view, which doesn’t match the bold imagery and strong concept.

Aside from Ariel’s first-act chat with her friend Kent, the personalities of Moretti’s guests are frustratingly non-existent. You never really get to know who they are and why they were chosen. By the end of the film, these characters are just background players to John Malkovich’s larger-than-life pop star. It’s especially a criminal waste of Murray Bartlett and Juliette Lewis’s talents. There are simply so many ways that these characters could have been used to push Green’s point about the relationship between the media and the stars it covers.

Someone who is not wasted is John Malkovich (Being John Malkovich). He delightfully throws himself into the role of part flamboyant musician and part self-indulgent cult leader. You can entirely believe that Alfred Moretti would have earned such a cult following. Thanks to some archival footage of young Alfred and clips of pop culture commentators, he feels like a fully realised figure. His character gets a little lost when it comes to his new ideology and the religion he has found himself part of.

Ayo Edebiri is likeable as the audience’s eyes and ears. She easily conveys her confusion at everyone acting so normal around Moretti’s antics. As the young, plucky journalist, she delivers the perfect amount of cockiness and self-awareness. The actress struggles with some of the more horror elements of the film, not entirely selling her character’s uneasiness and later terror. Malkovich and Edebiri’s performances lend themselves to a more black comedy angle, which is a tone Opus should have pushed further.

Opus frustratingly misses its biggest opportunities. A film about a group of culture commentators invited to a reclusive pop star’s compound should have been much more interesting than what is on offer here. Green’s frustration at the absurdity of modern celebrity worship and the death of cultural criticism within mainstream media is vague, unfocused and relies too much on a closing act monologue. It’s infuriating how much better Opus should have been with just a little more point of view and some bolder writing choices.

USA | 2025 | 104 MINUTES | COLOUR | ENGLISH

Cast & Crew

writer & director: Mark Anthony Green.
starring: Ayo Edebiri, John Malkovich, Juliette Lewis, Murray Bartlett, Amber Midthunder, Stephanie Suganami, Young Mazino & Tatanka Means.