Have you ever seen a film that tries to be well-intentioned with its societal critique but doesn’t leave with something definitive to say? “Opus” feels torn between honing into the symbiotic and sometimes parasitic relationships between larger-than-life musicians and the journalists, editors, and influencers looking to disseminate their stories to the masses. You can argue that the allure of mystery around artistic projects is gone due to the onset of social media and the push for artists to “always be accessible.” While celebrity has retreated into more curated editorials, it’s frustrating for journalists who want to tell a compelling, no-frills story.
First-time writer/director Mark Anthony Green was a former style editor at GQ. The personal nature of reporters in the profession, trying to do the right thing while feeling the tug of being a brand themselves, rings genuine and personal (journalists watching the film will also relate). The problem is painting in broad strokes to define who is to blame for our obsession with celebrities – is it the figures themselves or those who tell their stories to a rabid audience craving salacious information?
Ariel Ecton (Ayo Edebiri) is a pop culture journalist who is extremely thoughtful in her approach to crafting her reporting. If she chronicles somebody’s creative process, it will mean something. Unfortunately, those intentions are continually undercut by her editor Stan (Murray Bartlett). He hears Ariel’s ideas but immediately takes ownership of or discards them entirely. Given that Anthony Green is a journalist of color, that is an astute observation that many in today’s newsrooms feel.
“Opus” / Photo Credit: A24
There’s a big story brewing: music superstar Alfred Moretti (John Malkovich) is back on the scene with new music after a thirty-year hiatus. He’s had 38 number-one singles, the top-grossing US tour ever, and a dedicated fan base, even as there’s been a complete retreat from the public eye. Moretti doesn’t do conventional album rollouts, either. Stan tells a story about how his manager Soledad Yusef (Tony Hale) would record VHS tapes and send them out. This time, a weirdly recorded YouTube video makes the announcement. Invites go out for a select few to listen to the album and potentially do an exclusive interview. It’s Ariel and Stan’s lucky day along with talk show host Clara (Juliette Lewis), influencer Emily (Stephanie Suganami), and an older journalist named Bill (Mark Sivertsen) that has a bit of a feud with the singer.
When they arrive at the sprawling Utah compound, numerous people are already living there dressed identically in robes. The group has to give up their cell phones, are given a schedule with various activities planned out for the weekend, and have some weird dinner practices. Not to mention, guests can’t leave their rooms at night with a guard outside their door. As astute as can be, Ariel immediately suspects something is wrong. Everybody else is captivated by the spectacle Moretti has created. By all means, Malkovich takes on the roles as a David Bowie-esque figure to the maximum. The Depeche Mode style soundtrack with his vocals (produced by Nile Rodgers and The-Dream) provides “Opus” with a fun layer. You can appreciate Anthony Green’s full commitment from that perspective. Edebiri also serves as a good foil to Malkovich, even if the cat-and-mouse game they play is one we’ve seen before. Ariel is just there for the story, and her fixed insight is why she’s aware of all the weirdness happening.
“Opus”/ Photo Credit: A24
A couple of people start to disappear, but everybody is so entranced by being in close proximity to superstardom that they don’t notice. However, “Opus” touches on so many satirical points that it doesn’t focus on a central thesis. Has journalism become a style over substance game because that’s what higher-ups and the public want? Yes. Are there disparities between who gets to tell big stories in the newsroom? Absolutely. Is the building resentment from artists of things being creation-based warranted? We can agree to that. There are all these interesting plot threads, and a statement that everybody involved wants to be a star. However, “Opus” invests too much time into building the vibes of uneasiness while ignoring the social commentary part. There’s a poignant Billie Holiday metaphor that doesn’t have the intended impact because it immediately moves on from it.
“The Menu” found its rhythm in examining the pretentiousness of restaurant culture from two different perspectives. “Get Out” unapologetically kept its statement about racism at the core of what the audience saw. “Opus” says plenty but lacks the lasting impression necessary for its points to be decisive.
