Opus, the latest thriller from A24, directed by Mark Anthony Green, plunges viewers headlong onto the grounds of celebrity culture and its inherent absurdity. Starring Ayo Edebiri as Ariel Ecton and John Malkovich as the enigmatic pop star Alfred Moretti, the film invites us to explore the chilling world of fame through the lens of fresh journalism.
Set for release on March 14, 2025, with a runtime of 104 minutes, Opus focuses on Ariel, who, after years of struggle and lack of recognition at her music magazine job, finally receives her big break with an invitation from Moretti—oh yes, the famed pop star who mysteriously disappeared thirty years earlier. This hints at the overarching narrative, exploring the conflict between media's pursuit of celebrity and the dark underbelly of the fame game.
Moretti’s upcoming album, heralded as “the greatest of modern times,” draws Ariel, along with other media personalities, to the sprawling, eerie desert compound of the pop idol. The film’s promotional tagline promises, “There’s no cult like celebrity,” setting the stage for his quasi-religious cult of followers, known as Levelists.
Within this gripping premise lies a critique of the mania surrounding celebrity, albeit with mixed execution. Green's background as a journalist for GQ surely influences the telling of Ariel’s quest for a worthy story. Yet, many critics argue the film succumbs to cheap clichés and fails to deliver substantive commentary, merely repeating themes already explored by others, including Midsommar and The Menu.
The film has received mixed reviews, with Screen Rant giving it 7 out of 10, though Rotten Tomatoes currently lists it at 39%. Critics have pointed out the compelling dynamics between the vibrant performances of Edebiri and Malkovich, particularly noting Edebiri's charm as she navigates the ominous atmosphere of the compound.
The ensemble cast also features Juliette Lewis, Amber Midthunder, and Murray Bartlett, ensuring notable depth to the story. Ariel’s invitation, which originally seems like the opportunity of a lifetime, morphs as guests begin to disappear mysteriously, thrusting her onto the path of investigation with dire consequences.
What begins as high-hopes for journalistic success quickly transforms; Ariel encounters bizarre rituals and avant-garde demands from Moretti and his crew of so-called creatives. The film attempts to showcase various elements of cult culture, but at times, the interpretations feel superficial rather than insightful. The rituals the Levelists engage in, such as participants shucking oysters to find pearls and mandatory makeovers, serve more as awkward comedic moments than as compelling narrative devices.
With momentary shifts toward horror, the film boasts unsettling imagery reminiscent of earlier contemporary horror hits, but many contend it doesn’t fully capitalize on its opportunities. Characters are often left with little development, feeling more like caricatures than complex figures, which may lead viewers to wonder whether Ariel’s diligent documentation carries any weight amid the absurdity.
Critics have cited questionable directorial choices, ranging from poor pacing to lackluster character arcs, which can detract from the film's claim to satire within the celebrity-focused horror genre. Malkovich’s portrayal of Moretti draws interesting comparisons to real-life celebrities, with the character being both charming and troubling.
Green, though ambitious, still needs to refine his focus. The culmination, which contains moments of violence and psychological thrills, veers abruptly and leaves audiences perplexed, grappling with questions of narrative integrity and coherence. Opus, with all its ambition, often feels like it’s trying too hard to balance dark humor with horror, falling short of establishing itself as either.
Despite its shortcomings, Opus could shine within the streaming realms, as it is set to be available on Max just months after its theatrical debut. Expected to land on digital platforms by May, it aims to reach audiences beyond the theater, capitalizing on the genre's popularity.
Both Edebiri and Malkovich craft memorable performances amid the swirling chaos of the narrative, with Edebiri’s nuanced interpretation of Ariel becoming the film’s foundation. The compelling duality of Moretti as both deity and deceiver weighs heavily on Ariel's character arc, prompting her to confront the darkened sides of her dreams.
Notable scenes are riddled with humor but are often overshadowed by clumsy attempts at humor struck against the backdrop of existential dread. The juxtaposition invites laughter, yet, at times, the laughter feels forced rather than organic, potentially alienated those watching.
Green seems determined to leave audiences contemplating the disquieting intersection of fame and vulnerability amid the ruthless media culture, remembering, as Ariel does, the haunting question of what price one pays for the allure of celebrity.
Fans of psychological thriller aficionados will still want to check out the show, not only due to its intriguing and provocative themes but also because it presents two compelling leads delivering their all. While not without flaws, Opus encapsulates the contemporary struggle of modern celebrity culture and the obsession with those who inhabit its world. Undoubtedly, it may inspire discussion and intrigue among those returning to theaters once it is released.