Opus (2025) is written & directed by Mark Anthony Green. It stars Ayo Edebiri, John Malkovich, Murray Bartlett, Juliette Lewis, Amber Midthunder, Melissa Chambers, Stephanie Suganami, Mark Sivertsen, Peter Diseth, Tony Hale, Tatanka Means, Aspen Martinez, Tamera Tomakili, Jasper Keen, and Young Mazino. The story follows Ariel Ecton (Edebiri), a young music journalist, who, along with her boss, Stan (Bartlett), is invited to preview a new album from pop legend, Alfred Moretti (Malchovich), who disappeared over a decade prior. Soon after arriving at his lavish compound, Ariel is surprised to discover just how willing her so-called “journalist” peers are to surrender themselves to the idea that Moretti is, in fact, an otherworldly creative force. As Moretti’s control over his guests becomes more unsettling in nature, Ariel realizes their lives may be at stake. The question is: Has the guests’ fandom just gone way too far, or is Moretti behind it all?

Although none of the characters or performances are particularly bad (excluding John Malkovich’s Moretti), they’re just very surface-level. Other than Ariel and Moretti, the script doesn’t even attempt to explore its various characters. They all just end up coming across as silly caricatures who never feel even slightly real compared to the two leads. Obviously, the two leads should receive the most characterization, but that doesn’t mean the supporting cast should feel like they belong in a different film. This ends up being a major thorn in the film’s side because most of its humor and horror is sourced through these various supporting characters. The jokes fall flat because of their lack of character context/setup, and the horror has little punch because we don’t really care whether anyone lives or dies. It would undoubtedly work better if we either loved the characters outright (obviously) or hated them so much that their deaths would take on an element of karmic justice. Instead, they’re middling and therefore forgettable. 

Edebiri is fittingly cast as Ariel, the only somewhat normal person among a sea of egotistical artists and critics. The problem is that this is essentially the same character she plays in not only The Bear (2022-) but everything else she’s been a part of. The intentionally awkward stutters/pauses combined with her gratingly skeptical attitude is a very specific characterization that works if used once, but never twice. After seeing her give the same kind of performance in this film that she’s given countless times before, it actually makes me think a lot less of her as a performer. Is this the only kind of character she’s able to play? I get that Ariel is written to be awkward and skeptical, but I expected Edebiri to at least try something new in terms of her cadence or general physicality. 

Thankfully, the cast features at least one awesome performance, which is unsurprisingly John Malkovich as Moretti. Like Nicholas Cage, Malkovich is the kind of actor whose eccentric, real-life personality is more well-known than any of the characters he plays. This means he doesn’t have to stretch his personality as far as most actors would, which makes his portrayal of such an over-the-top character feel surprisingly natural. He finds all of the worst/annoying aspects of egotistical celebrities and combines them to create a character who seems like a cultish cross between a late-life Michael Jackson and Morrissey from The Smiths. The beauty of the character, above all else, is that Malkovich makes him a buffoon, but never goes so far that Moretti stops feeling like a dangerous presence. Yes, it’s easy to laugh at the character’s overly pretentious musical performances, but they also feel real. The scary part about him is that he doesn’t see how silly he actually is. Just like in the real world, it’s not exactly idiots who are the issue; it’s specifically the idiots who think they’re the opposite. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again: self-awareness goes a long way and is one of the world’s most underrated character traits. My only issue with Moretti is that, by the end of the film, we’re never given a clear answer as to what his motivations actually are. It’s clear WHAT he’s trying to do, but the WHY mostly remains a mystery. In Scream (1996), Billy, Skeet Ulrich’s character, gives a passionate speech about how horror villains are scarier when they have no motive, but what people miss about this scene is that Billy is wrong. He uses Hannibal Lecter as an example of this, but anyone who’s versed in The Silence of the Lambs (1991) lore knows that Hannibal has multiple motives; they just aren’t made clear until the very end of the film. I suppose I understand the idea that a mysterious character is inherently unsettling, but it’s never even close to as scary as a character who feels real (and real evil people almost always have a motivation, even if it doesn’t make much logical sense). I’m not saying we should know the motivation early on in the film, but there should at least be some kind of payoff by the time the credits roll.    

The first act features a lot of engaging setup and, for the most part, does a great job of establishing the film’s darkly comedic tone. Unfortunately, the film fails to pick up as the story progresses. I will note that I appreciated the stylistic parallels to Cameron Crowe’s Almost Famous (2000), which feel unique in the context of horror but not inappropriate when considering the film’s comedic elements. Other than that, the themes/ideas at play are extremely surface-level, but the film also fails to deliver any traditional genre thrills. I don’t necessarily need strong themes to have a good time, but there better be more visceral entertainment to balance things out. Opus doesn’t deliver on either level, and although I appreciated Malkovich’s performance as well as certain elements of the ending, the effect is kind of a dud.

Overall, this film isn’t outright bad and features a handful of elements I truly enjoyed, but it unfortunately fails to deliver on its intriguing horror premise. It has very little to offer in terms of more traditional scares/violence, and instead spends most of its runtime focused on philosophical character conversations that barely scratch the surface of what they’re trying to explore. None of it is dumb, but it’s watered-down, safe, and ultimately sort of meaningless. I seem to have enjoyed it a tad more than most audiences, but that doesn’t mean it’s a film I’d recommend. I recognize that my reasons for being less harsh on the film are mostly related to non-objective taste, so take the fact that I slightly enjoyed it with a grain of salt. If it weren’t for Malkovich’s simultaneously chilling and hilarious turn as Moretti, I’d unequivocally say this is a bad movie. Instead, he elevates the material past “forgettable” and lands it squarely in the “just ok” category. I know that seems like a big boost, but he’s just that good. C+