My quick rating – 5.8/10. I really thought this set the stage for something big—a chilling dive into the dangers of fame, the toxicity of idol worship, and the seductive pull of mythologized celebrity. With a premise this intriguing and John Malkovich at the center as a vengeance-driven, long-lost pop icon named Moretti, I was bracing for fireworks. But what I got was more of a slow burn that never quite ignites.
The story follows Ariel, a young writer played by Ayo Edebiri, who’s invited to a lavish and remote compound where the long-disappeared Moretti has re-emerged, surrounded by a bizarre entourage of journalists, hangers-on, and devoted fanatics. It’s a ripe setup, and Edebiri carries the narrative well. She gives Ariel a mix of intelligence and cautious curiosity, even if she pieces things together a bit too quickly for the tension to really marinate. Occasionally, her facial expressions didn’t quite match the tone of the scene, but that felt more like a quirk than a flaw.
Malkovich, unsurprisingly, is the film’s biggest asset. His performance as Moretti is magnetic—equal parts bizarre, bitter, and mesmerizing. There’s an eerie allure to how he commands every scene he’s in. You want to know what his endgame is, and he plays it with a kind of menacing grace. Juliette Lewis also brings some grounded chaos to the mix as one of the journalists—potentially one of the many who wronged Moretti in the past.
Visually, the film has style. The compound is elaborate and visually striking, and there’s a slightly dreamlike, almost hallucinatory quality to some of the locations that fits the film’s surreal tone. But for a movie that flirts with thriller and psychological horror elements, Opus feels oddly restrained. There’s little sense of real danger, and even once the ensemble realizes they’re pawns in Moretti’s twisted plan, the tension just never fully lands.
The special effects, while competent, are used sparingly, and the sense of dread is diluted by the film’s slow pacing and tame escalation. When the final act rolls around, it’s all wrapped up a bit too neatly, lacking the punch or emotional resonance it felt like it was aiming for.
There’s a message here—a cautionary tale about the destructiveness of celebrity obsession and media vultures—but it never digs deep enough to feel truly biting. Without Malkovich anchoring the madness, this would have scored lower for me. It’s all atmosphere and concept with not enough impact or narrative bite.
Not a bad film by any means, just not the one I hoped it would be. Opus has the ingredients for something compelling, but it never fully delivers on the promise. All pop, no bang.
