In recent years, we've seen countless classroom-commentary thrillers about "celebrity obsession." Specifically, premises about a lower-class protagonist trapped in a single location with a wealthy king of his craft with a cult following. His followers can be his workers (The Menu) or his supportive group of friends (Blink Twice). Either way, deadly complications arise and the protagonist has to do a "Get Out." What sets them apart, despite their flaws, is their distinctive take, tone, and perspective on a similar topic. Mark Anthony Green's Opus, however, comes to the party late, exhausted and confused. Like a student research paper written at the last minute, Opus tackles "celebrity culture" with little precision, because it's too concerned with doing a "Get Out" than being coherent in its discussion of the bridge between celebrities and journalists. Think of that theater critic scene from Birdman in all its weightlessness under the guise of a thriller.
Young, slovenly music journalist Ariel Ecton (Ayo Edebiri) is among the few guests at the secluded compound of Moretti (John Malkovich), a mega 90s pop star about to release his first album in 30 years. His editor-in-chief Stan (Murray Bartlett), who was also invited, insists she’s just there to take notes; he’ll write the article. But Ariel is hungry for a real story, unlike Stan, who’s already decided on his angle. Upon arrival, Moretti’s estate appears to be a small cult town where he’s surrounded by loyalists (insert Jared Leto joke here). When guests begin to disappear one by one, Ariel finds herself at the center of a deadly plot and must find a way to escape.
Director: Mark Anthony Green
Writer: Mark Anthony Green
Stars: Ayo Edebiri, John Malkovich, Juliette Lewis
The leads in Opus give excellent performances of the material the script is based on. It’s nice to see Ayo Edibiri tackle a thriller and her first foray into the genre shows plenty of scope for her already broad skill set as a performer. Most of the film shows her operating in a similar sphere to that Ayo Edibiri and Prince William meme. Opus’ plot matches that of Get Out, to the point where Edebiri gets trapped and channels Kaluuya’s iconic face of terror. Though I’m a sucker when an actor develops a slow-burning discomfort that results in that bug-eyed, paralyzed, single-tear state of terror. It will never fail to send a chill down my spine. Still, Green doesn’t muster any of the mounting tensions, emotions, or scary elements to earn that moment.
John Malkovich leads the charge, approaching Morietti like a cross between Willy Wonka and David Bowie. He’s got the flamboyant movement and sexual zeal down pat, mimicking artists in the same genre as Morietti without feeling like a caricature. The creation of Morietti’s persona is also elevated by the few original tunes produced by songwriting legends Nile Rogers and The Dream. Some of the songs are heavy-handed, especially the opening track ‘Dina, Simone’, which will have you going from “Wait, John Malkovich can sing” to “Wait, this is really hard.”
The conversation about artists and their relationship with journalists is desperately ripe for nuance. In every other film about a high-profile artist and journalist, the latter is portrayed as an arrogant jerk. Initially, I thought Mark Anthony Green would be the perfect candidate to break that cliché-filled glass ceiling, considering his background as a former editor at GQ. It was one of the reasons I was so looking forward to Opus. Sadly, Green stays within those stereotype-filled perimeters and deflects any opportunity he is given throughout the film to take Opus in a new direction.
Early on, Ariel expresses her frustrations to Kent (young Mazino) about how undervalued she is at her job and how she wants something big to happen so she can tackle tasks that aren't superficial. That goes nowhere. At the resort, Ariel notices that all the other guests—paparazzo Bianca (Melissa Chambers), Moretti's musical rival Bill (Mark Sivertsen), social media influencer Emily (Stephanie Suganami), talk show host Clara (a drunken Juliette Lewis), and even her boss Stan—begin to believe Moretti's seduction and become little fans in real time. The current landscape of media journalism is ripe for debate, where misinformation and industrial machinations run rampant and journalistic integrity is in a weak position.
Instead, what Green does is a stripped-down version of Get Out! and The Menu, but with the Manson family farm as the protagonist. From a production standpoint, it’s very well done. Tommy Maddox-Upshaw’s photography creates an enveloping, suffocating atmosphere that usually comes alive in the fantasy-filled, actor-heavy scenes. Formally, there’s nothing else worth mentioning.
The only other highlight is Amber Midthunder as Moretti’s right-hand woman on the security team. After seeing Midthunder’s power in the Predator movie, Prey, which should have been released in theaters, it’s fun to see her in a hunter role. She’s absolutely terrifying every minute she’s on screen, even though she and Tatanka Mean are the only two indigenous performers and are squarely placed in the “silent but deadly” trope.
Having accepted that Opus was a weak clone with little to say, its ending takes a nasty “gotcha” turn that feels borderline insulting. It’s one thing to be incoherent in its high-concept social commentary, but suddenly acting like it’s saying something the whole time has hits like the Sailor Moon meme “My work here is done / But you did nothing.” It further takes another turn, reading more like political commentary than commentary on the cult of celebrity, its initial goal.
Underdeveloped and dumb, Mark Anthony Williams’ When-You-Buy-Get-Out-Off-Temu thriller Opus squanders its potential as a social commentary on celebrity culture and its relationship to journalists. Not even talented performances from Edebiri and Malkovich can save this sour note of a thriller.
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