Celebrity worship is ripe for dark and outrageous satire. Everyone has a favorite actor, filmmaker, singer, and so on. To be a dedicated fan is one thing, but when admiration moves into sycophantic obsession, things can get toxic. In writer-director Mark Anthony Green’s feature debut, Opus, stones are thrown at the cultish celebrity culture of today and how the futility of believing one has a connection to a famous personality can become dangerous. 

Too often, stars are seen as messiahs. An unstable or easily manipulated mind can hear a lyric they perceive to be written just for them or see a film where they confuse the performer with the character on screen. A sweeter of this can be found in Woody Allen’s 1985 comedic masterpiece, The Purple Rose of Cairo, where the character actually leaves the screen and falls in love with his biggest fan. The darker side of celebrity obsession can be found in social commentary works such as Sidney Lumet’s Network, Martin Socsese’s The King of Comedy, and various thrillers like the under-seen 1980 curio Fade to Black and Tony Scott’s The Fan, from 1996. There is an awkward irony in how so many films portray the dark side of fame and fandom, as those who have fallen prey to it are sitting somewhere in the theater. 

Opus takes these ideas to the extreme through a strange tale of a bizarre pop star (a freakishly fun John Malkovich) and the unsuspecting reporter (the always excellent Ayo Edebiri) who falls victim to a waking nightmare of cultish hell.  

Edebiri is Ariel, a young journalist working at a hip magazine. Her colleagues seem to like her and love her pitches for article ideas. Her smug and condescending boss, Stan (Murray Bartlett), is constantly praising her pitches, but continues to give them to the male writers on staff. Frustrated at such a lack of upward mobility, Ariel receives a surprise invite (along with her boss) to spend the weekend at a reclusive pop star’s house in the desert and be the first to experience their return to the music world. 

Malkovich plays Moretti, the world’s most famous pop star (think Michael Jackson in his heyday) who is coming back with a new album after a 30 year self-imposed exile. Moretti is using the weekend to share his new work, Caesar’s Request, with other industry insiders. Along with Ariel and Stan, the guest list includes a Television talk show host (Juliette Lewis, searching for something interesting to do), an influencer (Stephanie Suganami), a jaded paparazzo (Melissa Chambers), and a podcaster Mark Sivertsen). Each one is lured to maretti’s remote compound in Utah where they are showered with gift baskets and the promise of being first to experience the music scoop of the decade.  

Moretti lives at the spa-like (but barbed wire fence surrounded) compound with his fans. Once the guests arrive, Ariel gets bad vibes, as the aura is immediately cultish. Being such an astute and aware journalist, she observes how Moretti’s followers obey his every request. Later, Ariel and the others will get a first hand experience of the bizarre ritualistic lifestyle practices that will reveal a darker purpose. After a strange but fairly harmless dinner, one of the guests goes missing, the influencer has a grotesque allergic reaction, and Stan is accidentally shot with an arrow. This is just the beginning of the madness Moretti has in store for all involved. 

The film’s screenplay doesn’t dig too deep, although it presents itself as having something important to say, but struggles with articulating its ideas on the screen. The messaging is surface-level and the director never lands on a proper tone. While the film is certainly not to be taken too seriously, the mood shifts unevenly from thriller, to message film, to horror, and to dark comedy; never keeping a grip on any particular style. 

There are few good moments to be found within Green’s debut picture. The opening set up of a young Black woman in a male-dominated workforce shows promise. Ariel’s observations of the goings-on and her reluctant participation in Moretti’s rituals is done in an interesting way.  A scene where Moretti performs his new song for his guests while gyrating around (and on) them is a hilariously uncomfortable orgy of the odd; the film’s highlight. To watch John Malkovich doing such a thing is a sight you will not soon forget. 

The actor’s performance is entertaining, but his real life eccentric persona is already off-putting. With the exception of the dangerous cult leader status of the character he is playing, Moretti just feels like the real Malkovich in a series of costume changes. There is no personality given to the design, as Malkovich uses the same nasally monotone and pursed-lip whiny delivery he has used for the past two decades. It seems strange to praise a performance for being fun to watch while simultaneously claiming it isn’t enough. Such is the work of late-career John Malkovich.

As for the rest of the cast, no one really has a chance to make anything memorable out of their characters. The guests don’t have much to do, stifling the actors’ collective work. The film’s worst sin? If one is going to cast Tatanka Means, Tony Hale, and Amber Midthunder, it is best to give them something interesting to do. These are three interesting actors whose talented hands are creatively tied in this project. 

Nile Rodgers and The Dream composed Moretti’s songs. While both are respected pop music producers (with Rodgers existing as an industry legend), the music is nothing special. Each of the three tracks are pedestrian and generic, making it hard to believe that Moretti could have become such a beloved superstar. As modern pop songs are mostly bland and uninspiring, perhaps that is close to Green’s point. Music fans of today embrace the most insipid tunes due to their unflinching dedication to their singer of choice. If this is what the film is going for, Green’s script and Malkovich’s performance do nothing to make it clear why Moretti is so appealing to the masses. 

We have been here before. Since Jordan Peele’s Oscar-winning hit, Get Out, producers have scrambled to make the next “seemingly innocent trip becomes sinister” movie that will click with audiences. 2019’s Ready or Not, 2022’s The Menu, and the recent Blink Twice followed the same formula that Peele did so brilliantly. Mark Anthony Green stays so close to this already well-worn blueprint, the film offers viewers no real surprises. This one could get away with being titled, Get Out Part 4. 

Green’s film has little to say about the big subjects it tackles. The few scenes of grotesqueness seem unnecessary and play out like a distraction from the director’s lack of focus. Fan Culture on all levels has become toxic to the nth degree and there is a lot to explore when examining such a social plague. Green could inject his work with a relevant potency, but the filmmaker is afraid to go the extra mile. 

Opus has no conviction and settles for being a middle of the road thriller void of thrills and a social commentary with little insight.

A good cast. A good idea. A pedestrian motion picture.

Opus

Written & Directed by Mark Anthony Green

Starring Ayo Edebiri, John Malkovich, Juliette Lewis, Stephanie Suganami, Murray Bartlet, Melissa Chambers, Mark Sivertsen, Peter Diseth, Amber Midthunder, Tatanka Means, Tony Hale

R, 103 Minutes, A24