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A career-defining story, an opportunity journalists wait their entire lives to experience — what could go wrong? Almost everything, according to this uninspired story full of dull characters.
Mark Anthony Green’s film “Opus” follows young journalist Ariel Ecton (Ayo Edebiri) when she is invited to cover a career-making story — the album release party for the return of legendary pop star Alfred Moretti (John Malkovich). However, when she becomes surrounded by a cult of sycophants in Moretti’s remote compound, Ariel discovers the weekend getaway is far more sinister than the simple party she was expecting.
While there is nothing egregiously wrong with “Opus,” save for one genuinely horrendous scene (more on that later), the film is nothing more than a regurgitation of every movie in the oversaturated market of cult films modeled after Ari Aster’s “Midsommar.”
Moretti’s cult is founded on interesting principles, and its potential for development and social commentary could have been successful in saving the otherwise uninspired movie. Unfortunately, it isn’t until the movie’s end that we glimpse what a deeper exploration might have looked like, as Ariel’s involvement with the cult takes an unforeseen twist. It is fascinating enough that I was disappointed in the film’s failure to explore it further, having focused more less on a critique of society and more on Ariel’s discovery of the compound’s nature and attempts to convince the others.
Just as the interesting parts of the plot fail to be explored, none of the characters feel fully fleshed out. While Ayo Edebiri is incredible as Ariel, and while one can’t help but feel sympathy toward her with her refreshing rationality, she feels rather one-dimensional. The slight humor the movie contains is achieved only thanks to Edebiri’s charisma, and it is clear that Edebiri was robbed of a more meaningful part as a result of the subpar script. Malkovich is hilariously phenomenal in his role and infuses an otherwise boring movie with life, but his character similarly lacks depth, with the lackluster writing making it hard to appreciate his acting.
The songs Moretti performs, three of which are original, are unbearably annoying. The pairing with full-on dance numbers feels ridiculously out of place in the otherwise somber and eerie film. The worst few minutes of the movie, which feel like they drag on for hours, come in the form of a weirdly sexual performance of one of Moretti’s new songs, “35mm.” This dizzying sequence, complete with Malkovich thrusting the air and horrendously-edited sparkling eyes, completely ruined the movie for me.
Beyond being irritating, the original songs are of such bad quality as to undermine the believability of Moretti’s supposed worldwide popularity. An early scene in which a CNN-esque national news source broadcasts Moretti’s return to music sets the tone for this element of absurdity — the world of the movie seems to have nothing newsworthy besides pop culture. While it is true that many famous artists have garnered seemingly unwarranted fandom, I find it hard to believe Moretti’s subpar pop music could have amassed such a (literal) cult following.
Despite its many flaws, there are some good elements to be found in “Opus.” The cinematography is stunning, portraying the compound in a hauntingly beautiful and utterly creepy way. Aerial views of the bus driving Ariel through arid deserts and the gorgeous shots of the compound’s furnishings perfectly offset the film’s tense scenes, such as the harrowing ATV chase and the stomach-churning moment where a young cult member endlessly shucks oysters.
While more psychological in its horror, there was a surprising amount of gore in the movie. The impressive editing and implementation of several gory moments throughout increase the film’s tension, and despite my lack of care for the story, I found myself at the edge of my seat, anxiously awaiting the resolution of my increasing stress.
Ultimately, while the premise is interesting and provides an opportunity to explore the parasitic nature of fame and the unhealthily obsessive modern worship of celebrities, the failure to meet these expectations makes “Opus” another derivative and bland A24 release.