Opus is a solid movie, but it’s one I’ve seen before many times, most recently in Midsommar, a film that was itself derivative of many which came before. But whereas Ari Aster’s masterpiece was able to synthesize its influences into something new, writer/director Mark Anthony Green’s take on the “oops, I’ve been suckered into visiting a cult and now I’m stuck” genre is mostly just a slick Greatest Hits reel. That said, formula is formula for a reason: it works. And Opus, despite its lack of novelty, works.
Ariel (Ayo Edebiri) is a pop-culture journalist looking to step out from under the shadow of her boss and fellow journalist Stan (Murray Bartlett). Opportunity knocks when reclusive pop-star Alfred Moretti (John Malkovich) emerges from dormancy and announces a new album. To premiere his record (which, per the tracks featured in the film, is legitimately great), he has invited a handful of journalists, influencers, and other notables to his creative compound in the middle of the desert. Invites are hard to come by, but he has asked for both Ariel and Stan by name. Naturally, they are not just obligated, but excited to attend. A cushy private flight and a lengthy bus ride later, they find themselves in an abnormal situation: Moretti, for all his talent and his charm, has positioned himself at the head of a small army of people, all of whom buy his bullshit wholesale, and all of whom are very clearly in a cult.
Sorta like when you go to Jared Leto’s house (minus the charm part).
And this is where Opus comes up short: we in the audience know that what we’re witnessing is a cult, and we spend the first two acts of the film waiting for the other shoe to drop. We know exactly what’s happening, even if the details are rearranged from other films of its ilk. We know that it’s not all peaches and cream, and we can be confident that right around the time of the third act transition our hero will ask to go home, be convinced to stay, and then shit will start to go down. There’s no ambiguity to speak of regarding the safety of the situation, at least not if you’ve seen a movie before. So instead of wondering what’s really going on, we just have to wait out the clock until the movie catches up to us and reveals what’s really going on (you guessed it: it’s a cult).
Where Opus manages to exceed this pretty large limitation is in the humorous behavior of the cult members and of their bizarre leader. John Malkovich is clearly having a blast as Moretti, who exists at the nexus between Michael Stipe, Liberace, and Marshall Applewhite. Pretty much every word out of his mouth is solid gold … and total bullshit, which is why he makes such a brilliant foil for our hero — Ariel is a similar sort of dreamer, but she’s quite savvy and has the polar opposite of an outsized ego. As a result Opus works best when the two share the screen (and it highlights how incredibly talented an actress Edebiri is — she commands the eye even as Malkovich is devouring everything in sight). Also notable is Amber Midthunder, who commands a huge presence as Ariel’s assigned concierge, and does so with next to no dialogue. Between this and Novocaine she’s about to become a household name (and if you haven’t seen Prey, do!).
It all culminates in a rather thoughtful finish, which is novel and compelling enough to (almost) retroactively purchase the film’s staler elements (although not enough to forgive bringing in Juliette Lewis and giving her next to nothing to do). I won’t spoil, but it speaks to an issue that I often struggle with as a rabid consumer of a certain type of media. It hit close to home, but it left me questioning the construction of the film. I wonder if the story would have worked better with more meat on the bones of its final reels and less wheel-spinning in the front half.
Directed by Mark Anthony Green
Written by Mark Anthony Green
Starring Ayo Edebiri, John Malkovich, Stephanie Suganami, Tanaka Means
Rated R, 103 minutes
