Directed by: Mark Anthony Green
Written by: Mark Anthony Green
Run Time: 1 hour 44 minutes

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Between Lady Raven in M. Night Shyamalan’s Trap (2024) and Skye Riley in Parker Finn’s Smile 2 (2024), cinematic singers have been giving the Sabrina Carpenters and Chappell Roans of the pop world a real run for their money recently. Continuing this trend into 2025, Mark Anthony Green’s Opus is the latest film to present audiences with a fictional popstar to stan. So move over pop girlies, because there’s a new diva on the scene – and her name’s John Malkovich.

Making a surprise comeback, outlandish 90s pop superstar Alfred Moretti (John Malkovich) invites a range of different media personalities to his private and remote complex in Utah for an elaborate, weekend-long album launch party. Amongst the guest list’s array of established podcasters, influencers and television hosts is junior print journalist Ariel Ecton (Ayo Edebiri), who attends alongside her undermining boss, Stan (Murray Bartlett). Keen to take advantage of the opportunity, Ariel makes a special effort to find the real scoop behind Moretti, but as the weekend unfolds and more and more of his eccentricities are revealed she starts to suspect that there’s a much more sinister story to uncover.

Opus has a rather familiar premise, one that’s reminiscent of recent titles such as Get Out (2017), The Menu (2022) and Blink Twice (2024). While those films used similar setups – an individual or group enjoying a seemingly innocent experience or getaway only to later discover they’re in very real danger – to explore such subjects as cultural appropriation, status, and violence against women, Opus opts to delve into the madness of modern music fandoms and the ever-concerning cult of celebrity.

The celebrity in question here is of course Malkovich’s extravagant Alfred Moretti, who provides a captivating focal point for Opus to orbit around. Malkovich brings a fun mixture of camp, pompous and pretension to the character that he skilfully balances while parading in his fab platform heels. Additionally, The-Dream and Nile Rodgers’ original music that he so enthusiastically performs further complements the character’s nonsensical notions – offering a delightful and somewhat deranged distraction from this now potentially tiresome premise.

However, while Moretti is idiosyncratic, over the top and oh so thoroughly wrapped up in his own world, Ariel is entirely his opposite. As the young writer, Ayo Edebiri demonstrates a sensible and naturally humorous cynicism that cuts through all the pretence of Moretti’s mantra, including that of his many followers that live alongside him in his cult-like compound. Yet, Ariel’s grounded outlook isn’t just Moretti’s opposite, but that of all her fellow guests too.

It’s through this collection of supporting characters, including a standout Juliette Lewis as vapid TV host Clara Armstrong, that Green takes his shot at modern media too. He conveys just how fickle and easily manipulated the press are, trading exclusivity for exposure. While Ariel questions everything around her, her colleagues dismiss her concerns suggesting instead that it’s simply all part of the Moretti madness. This allows Green to further comment on just how easily those in positions of fame can get away with things that they really shouldn’t – and crucially, who it is letting them away with them.

It’s here where Opus assigns most of its focus, presenting Moretti’s intriguing ideas that those with talent are the real gods of today. It’s not much of a reach either; you only have to look at the currently exorbitant ticket prices for concerts and how willing devoted fanbases are to pay them, or the recently exposed industry-wide scandals that have been going on for years to start to validate these ideas. Of course Green takes things even further for the sake of his social commentary, imagining just how dangerous a fully weaponised fanbase could become – delivering some suitably shocking moments in the process.

Although, the more of Moretti’s musical mania that manifests the messier Opus becomes, culminating in a rather cumbersome and predictable third-act climax. Yet, with the addition of one further curious coda, remarkably, Green’s film sticks the landing. Leaving viewers with a sobering reflection on the power of the popstar, and perhaps more pointedly: the incompetence of the press.

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Star Rating: ★ ★ ★

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