Opus: A Promising Debut Unfairly Cast Aside
A young writer is invited to the remote compound of a legendary pop star who mysteriously disappeared thirty years ago. Surrounded by the star’s cult of sycophants and intoxicated journalists, she finds herself in the middle of his twisted plan. 1
When films make money, important people notice.
Studio executives like safe bets. Making a film similar to one that was successful previously is a trusted strategy. A wise man once said “People like them, lets make some more of them.”
It leads to micro-genres dominating the box office for a time. Buddy-cops in the ‘80s. Period pieces in the ‘90s. Superheroes in the 2010s.
Horror films are especially prone to this which are, on average cheaper, easier to market and more profitable. When an independent horror feature is a surprise success, a gold rush ensues to have a hit with a similar concept.
And they do have to rush. Audiences get bored quicker and quicker. The next great concept comes along and they go with it. Which starts the process over again, like a dog chasing its own tail.
You’re reading a film blog in 20252. You know this. But it’s important to remind ourselves of this cycle when talking about Opus and its hostile reception.
Opus will not amaze you. It follows a slew of semi-recent works like Midsommar, Don’t Worry Darling and The Menu that centre on cults of personality. It relies on familiar beats. It has the same characters you expect. The same tropes.
Mark Anthony Green’s debut feature is getting slated from people comparing it to the aforementioned films. It’s a fair critique but one that dominates the conversation. You’d end up believing there’s not an original idea in the whole thing, which couldn’t be further from the truth.
It starts with workman-like efficiency and sets up conceits one after another. The dialogue is clumsy, the characters plain and its direction nondescript. Green is desperate to get us into the first act. It’s a wonder he didn’t cut all this entirely. Why not find a more elegant way to introduce these characters? The bus journey to the compound? The arrival at said compound? A strange choice to race through this section then have another fifteen minutes of set-up where any of the previous fifteen could’ve been incorporated into.
Ayo Edebiri (The Bear, Bottoms) plays put-upon frustration well, twitching her way through scenes with charming anxiety. Her character desires recognition. Something her editor (Murray Bartlett) gives in piecemeal, patronising ways. A comment on Black creatives in overwhelmingly white fields? It feels that way, though it doesn’t get explored. Green favours a general look at fame and the influence it has over people.
It’s an interesting (almost meta-textual) look at the cult-of-personality horror itself and the film’s greatest strength. That and John Malkovich.
Malkovich plays Moretti: an amalgam of pop stars past (think Madonna in the body of Bowie) whose opaque belief system enforces the themes in a surprisingly effective way. Malkovich is uncharacteristically restrained. There’s always a temptation to overplay these types of roles but Green rightly lets a supporting cast of cult members carry the unsettling aura of the film. The impact when Malkovich lets loose is increased tenfold.
Combined with intriguing thoughts on fame, social darwinism and demagoguery, Opus makes a number of interesting decisions which stand out from its contemporaries. It’s hamstrung by falling into familiar territory and allowing its influences to shine through at the expense of its unique ideas.
The reason for its ruthless dismissal3 is where the film falls in the studio cycle.
Had this been released a few years earlier we’d be seeing plenty of positive reviews. The audience are tired now. They’re growing weary of Get Out-type stories and Opus is the unfortunate film that suffers their slings and arrows. It’s massively unfair to Mark Anthony Green, a first-time director with promise. He’ll go on to surpass this and people will look back on his debut charitably.
You won’t be starstruck by Opus but you’ll come away entertained.
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