AYO EDEBIRI IS AN ABSOLUTE TREASURE. A24'S 'OPUS' IS A BOX OF ROCKS

There is perhaps no bigger cult than that of celebrity. I mean, there's one celebrity in particular I refuse to engage in conversations about because I've been screamed at, spat toward, and cried at (at the same house-party) simply for failing to listen to one of their albums. Opus, however, questions not only celebrity culture, but society’s culpability in feeding into such culture with far less bite. And director Mark Anthony Green's exploration doesn't have an ounce of that emotional drive.

*SPOILERS FOR OPUS FROM THIS POINT*

There is Something Weird Going on Here.

A24's latest centers around young journalist Ariel Ecton (played by Ayo Edebiri—all-around sweetie baby angel currently writing, and potentially starring in, a live-action Barney movie), lamenting that she hasn’t written anything she considers worthwhile in three years.

She's desperate to make her mark on the universe in any way possible. And the universe answers in the form of a mysterious, reclusive singer named Moretti (played by John Malkovich, being John Malkovich), “the biggest pop star of the ’90s,” coming out of retirement to release his first studio album in roughly the time that Ariel has been alive. And for unknown reasons, Ariel receives an invitation to Moretti’s desert compound, where she and her highhanded, idea-poaching boss will join several other VIPs to be the first in the world to hear it.

The other golden-ticket recipients? A TV personality (played by Juliette Lewis), an influencer (played by Stephanie Suganami) and a paparazzo (played by Melissa Chambers). And out of all of them, Ariel is the only one inclined to show any skepticism toward Moretti’s bizarre brand of hospitality—i.e. his disgusting meal routines (at a banquet, diners pass around and bite from the same, increasingly saliva-saturated roll) and by-your-side "concierge" service, which is code for guests are guarded at all times.

As guests begin to buy into Moretti's seduction, turning into little stans in real time, we begin to sense that something isn’t quite right in the desert. And as guests begin vanishing, one by one, Ariel attempts to uncover Moretti’s ominous plan.

Everything presented should be an easy recipe for dread. It's clear from the start that not everyone who enters this remote New Mexican compound will leave. There's constant surveillance—cellphones and laptops have been confiscated—and workers with curious scars. There's voodoo dolls, bloody fur pelts, jars of embalmed critters, and Moretti insisting all pubic hair be removed. And there’s something with oysters. Symbols of unease crowd every frame, but if you're waiting for a payoff, keep waiting.

Mark Anthony Green wrote Opus during his own tenure in media. As an editor for GQ, he profiled artists like Donald Glover, the Weeknd, and Janelle Monáe. And yet, despite years inside an elite industry, Opus depicts it without much specificity. The media personnel we meet in the film are barely defined. Even Ariel, who has ambitions (to interview famous people and to write a book) but no tangible interests, feels like a shallow depiction of a young writer staring down an endangered medium: the glossy music magazine.

It’s a Great Place to Bring Friends.

Everyone involved is doing the Lord's work. The standouts, undoubtedly, being Edebiri and Malkovich. Together and apart, the two actors craft Ariel and Moretti into memorable characters who hold the plot in the palm of their hands—even when you're begging for them to let it go.

Perhaps most importantly, Edebiri’s Ariel is a smart final girl. Played with a bookish, determined energy, she's a woman whose commitment to the fundamentals of journalism contrasts sharply with her fame-obsessed peers. She demands answers, follows her gut, doesn’t turn right when the entire audience knows she should have turned left.

Ariel's only hubris is also one of her greatest strengths: she’s hungry for success. Edebiri perfectly portrays Ariel’s bravery, fear, and journalistic ego down to the smallest of facial ticks. And by the end of the film, it’s hard to imagine anyone else giving her the kind of vitality Edebiri does. Though even her crackling wit and self-conscious charm can’t conjure what isn't there.

Blink Twice if I’m in Danger.

At its core, Opus is an exploration of celebrity culture, the jobs that exist because of society’s obsession with that culture, and how the two consistently, and sometimes unnervingly, feed into one another. Specifically, the film seems to be asking, is there any way out of the cult of celebrity, or have we dug ourselves in far too deep?

Its ideas are right on the money, and the film is so stylish that it’s easy to get swept up in its visuals. But while Opus parades as a critique of fame and those who kneel at its altar, it offers no lasting observations of commodified narcissism, or of fans who get swept into a state of mass hysteria. Instead, it presents a scenario where one popstar wields his power for vaguely nefarious purposes.

There was an opportunity, here, to reveal something deeper about the state of pop culture criticism through the lens of the old and the new guard. Or, to mine the thorny relationships that can arise between press and celebrity subjects. But, unfortunately, neither is explored.

Watching Opus, I experienced a level of exhaustion I couldn't categorize. And then I realized: I was exhausted by imagery I've seen so much in recent years—specifically from the brand that's become of A24. And again, I found myself at this crossroads of originality vs enjoyability. Because Opus is familiar, does that make it unwatchable? Had this film been released pre-Blink Twice, would I feel differently?

The conversation about artists and their relationship with journalists is ripe for nuance. In every other movie regarding a high-profile artist and a journalist, the latter is portrayed as an uppity asshole. And I had high hopes that Mark Anthony Green would be the perfect candidate to shatter that clichéd glass ceiling, considering his background. It was one of the reasons this was my most anticipated film of 2025. Sadly, the film is almost too safe for its own good. And while that's not bad, per se, it is disappointing.

2.5/5 ★: Arrives at the cult-of-celebrity party late, frazzled and confused.