Opus Review: Ayo Edebiri Shines in This Gripping Thriller on Art, Celebrity, and Cult Obsession
What begins as every journalist’s dream quickly turns into a nightmare in Mark Anthony Green’s Opus in which a glamorous getaway becomes a grisly fight for survival. After spending decades as a recluse, the world’s biggest pop star comes out of hiding to debut a new album for a prestigious select few. Publicists, influencers, TV personalities and… a random junior journalist named Ariel Ecton. Played by Aye Edebiri, Ariel is a soft spoken young creative who is gloriously ordinary and, as the script suggests, hasn’t experienced a whole lot. But that’ll change this weekend once she arrives at the infamous Alfred Moretti’s desert compound and uncovers more than just his new sound.
Opus has a lot to say about the state of collective intelligence and how it relates to creativity. It poses thought provoking questions regarding the intersect between art and celebrity, while also exploring concept of legacy and infamy. This is shown through the ‘Levelists’ who live on the compound and seem to worship Moretti as a god. Though one of the most famous people to ever walk the Earth, he stepped out of the spotlight to lead a group of his most loyal supporters under a new religion, which Ariel quickly realizes is an ambitious cult.
The atmosphere in Opus is eclectic and eccentric and colourful and rhythmic. There were no corners cut in regard to production design and the score contributed hugely to the uneasiness of the film, while remaining aware of when to serve its ulterior rockstar fantasy.
Ayo Edebiri is a naturally endearing performer with a repertoire of impressive talents, including a seemingly effortless integration of comedy in moments where we might expect the horrific. She naturally disarms audiences with a single delivery and manages to carry us through the film, even through its driest periods. She acts as a conduit for our experience and for the social experiment Morreti is conducting at his elusive compound, but more than that… she’s a symbol for the younger generation.
Edebiri’s character is a quirky young twenty something writer who, as her friend mentions, never had it too hard or too easy. She comes from a boring, ordinary family and has lived a boring, ordinary life. She’s not upper class or lower class. Like every other form of classification, she’s stuck in the middle. She identifies with a lot of the young people of this world. So why is she chosen amongst these other debutants to join the retreat? Moretti knows she lacks verve and purpose, and this experience will give it to her, all while propelling his sinister plans ever forward.
Though the film has collected mixed reviews coming out of its circuit at Sundance, Opus is an interesting and introspective story about the commodification of art and celebrity escalated by a tone of disturbing sycophancy. It is certainly a slower burn, but if you’re watching an A24 film, why would you expect anything different? Reviews panning this film for “taking forever to get going” aren’t giving the first act it’s necessary credit. The film builds tension through thoughtful visuals and lighting, as well as leaning into some delicious metaphors when necessary. It serves up more than a few inspiring character introductions, none more so than Moretti, whose face remains unseen while he’s fawned over by a team of dedicated stylists. Once he’s introduced, Malkovich plays him with an electric reverence that feels palpable. We aren’t sure whether to love or to hate him. Whether to trust or to suspect him. Whether to faun over him or to run for the hills.
For reviews comparing Opus to The Menu and Blink Twice, there may be some small similarities, but this is far from a copy of anything we’ve seen. In fact, the film feels jarringly original at times, introducing us to an eerie cult with ulterior motives that call to attention our generation’s complacence in the state of our collective intelligence. People are less inclined to think for themselves, to question the world, to explore art in its rawest forms. They’re more likely to chase clicks and clout, trading integrity for infamy whenever necessary in order to succeed in a world that values celebrity over humanity. The opening sequence of Opus acts as a delectable cherry on top, serving us interesting sequence that perfectly illustrates Moretti’s influence on his fans, and how audiences behave in the true face of music, art and—of course—glory.
Watch the trailer for Opus below