Mark Anthony Green, a previous high-ranking editor for the prized GQ magazine was no stranger to penning pieces ranging from articles on couture Tom Ford fashion to write-ups of interviews with elite celebrities on their success, discography and upcoming projects. Green’s passion for journalism was and is still clear, but after years of honing his craft and gaining such raw experiences in the world of celebrity culture and headlining antics, he noticed a pattern.

The world of fame was like a cult, with people almost worshipping these people that they do not really know. Where there is fame, money and success, there are problems; problems that have the potential to be quite terrifying when thought through. This philosophy is what instigated a fire within Green to take his years of experience and catalyse the madness of fame into a horror film that is akin to a fever dream and kaleidoscopic nightmare into the underbelly of celebrity culture. 

Opus follows Ariel Ecton (Ayo Edebiri), a journalist who is hungry for the next big-piece but contemplative enough to see past the smoke and mirrors. Ariel is spotlighted to travel to the compound of the eclectic Alfred Moretti (John Malkovich), a pop phenomenon who retired from the public eye nearly three decades ago. Along with a team of her fellow writers, she embarks on a journey to the popstar’s commune to be witness to his brand new album. 

Laying the foundations of what works well in Opus are the performances by leads Edebiri and Malkovich who fuse together their shared ability to get lost into a role, amplifying the film’s chaotic and surreal tonality. Whilst the actors equally dress the scenes with a form of magnetism that draws you in and holds your attention, leaving you wondering what happens next, they also bring contrasting elements that create a layered experience. Edebiri has finessed the nuanced approach to performing, enacting perfect comedic timing and knowing how to subtly balance the emotional shifts of the story. Whereas Malkovich’s intensive talents lend to his character’s cryptic flamboyant manner, amalgamating charm with a cold and menacing undertone. 

Opus is an evolving, layered-like story that works hard to create a textually mysterious environment where something innately feels off with the situation, but exactly where the horror originates from is not revealed until the final act. The feeling is emulative of emotionally similar films such as Get Out (2017), The Menu (2022) and Blink Twice (2024), where a slow-burn approach is employed, gradually building an unsettling aura until the penny finally drops and every obscure, elusive ploy forms to create a catastrophe. One caveat to this type of film is whether or not the grand reveal can match the tight tension that brews for well over an hour. In the case of Opus, the answer is a lukewarm ‘kindof’.

When the credits roll, the viewer is met with equal confusion and satisfaction, due to the film’s bold take on the tribalism of celebrity cults. If Opus would have pushed harder on the gas and implemented a more significantly extreme finale then it would have hit the mark with feverishly exciting but still disturbing payoff, rather than a conclusion that is not equivalent to what it promises throughout the first half of the film. 

Despite the slightly deflated revelations, Opus is brilliant at stirring the pot. In today’s day and age, the whole idea of major figures and key players in the entertainment industry harbouring rings filled with all sorts of sordid deeds is not a secret. It goes without explanation that the premise of private islands and taboo (or to be frank, inhumane) tastes have been at the central focus of tabloid media for a while.

Green has been open about his experience as a journalist and his beliefs regarding putting these people who we do not know personally on a pedestal, which can be a dangerous game. Opus toys with this open secret and develops a film that stands to respond and play with this truth. Whilst the brutality of the situation could have been more hardcore, Opus is a feature that is a piece of its time and feeds into a spark of horror that thrives on the real seediness that lies in front of us everytime we turn on the television or radio, read the papers, admiring the lives of others that we do not know. 

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