Opus

If Midsommar threw on a pair of jeans and played an electric guitar, you'd have Opus.

There's no denying the film's atmosphere-equal parts fever dream and surreal art installation-but the premise felt oddly familiar. A strange cult? Check. Ominous followers watching every move? Check. Friends disappearing without explanation? Also check. It's hard not to feel like Ari Aster already laid the groundwork here, and did it with more finesse.

That said, John Malkovich delivers a predictably mesmerizing performance as the enigmatic cult leader, giving the film much of its weight. The visuals, music, and costume design add layers of intrigue, even if they occasionally veer into style-over-substance territory.

Unfortunately, the ending felt rushed and, at times, too far-fetched to land with impact. It's a film that reaches for depth but doesn't quite dig far enough.

Opus isn't without merit-but if you've already followed Aster into the woods, this journey may feel more like déjà vu than discovery.

Opus wants to be daring and profound but mostly gives in to pretentiousness. John Malkovich is electric as a deranged ex-pop star cult leader, but everything else around him fails. The film throws gaudy images and provocative scenes against the wall and hopes something will stick-little does.

Director Mark Anthony Green is more interested in being provocative than in coming up with a coherent narrative. Characters vanish, tone shifts at random, and anything that attempts to be satirical is submerged in the bedlam. It's like a fever dream of film school with a decent soundtrack.

There's something here, but it's buried beneath masses of over-written trash and "weird for weirdness' sake" choices. One of the most frustrating films of the year-not because it's awful, but because it had the potential to be something amazing.

With standout performances by Ayo Edebiri and John Malkovich Opus is definitely worth watching for the acting alone. However the biggest turn offs are a few gross moments and a third act that is a chaotic mess.

Yet with outstanding cinematography, slick production design, and stellar music by legendary composers Nile Gregory Rodgers and The-dream, Opus has enough surreal quirks to perhaps propel its destiny into sleeper hit cult status.

The producers may have been thinking they were creating the next big auteur horror thriller, and if this was the case, they certainly missed the mark. Far from being a masterpiece, Opus may be best enjoyed as a guilty pleasure dark satire in which its flaws only contribute to its off kilter charm.

Opus started off pretty solid but fell apart in the final act. It's similar to other stories like Midsommar, Get Out, Blink Twice, The Menu, etc. So this wasn't anything new, but that wasn't much of an issue for me. The problem is in the explanation for what drives the cult. What it's about - its purpose. Malkovich's character sorta kinda attempts to offer an explanation at the end, but it didn't feel sufficiently solid enough to patch up the holes created by that issue. The acting in here was great though, and it was fun to see Malkovich ham it up the way he did. This was director Mark Anthony Green's first film, and he was also the writer. He has potential, as evidenced by the strong first half of the story. But he needs a bit more work to stick the landing. Video review available on my YouTube channel.

A common theme throughout most of the critic and amateur reviews of Opus is that, "we've seen this before." The premise - an unassuming person enters a secretive compound/community that hides nefarious things - is pretty well trodden ground. The structure, where, just by the trailers you can tell it'll be mystery upon mystery until it all comes together in the end, feels tired.

Opus does make an attempt to set itself apart; it's firmly about celebrity worship and the way some can easily excuse a person's objectively bad behaviour because they've made songs or movies we enjoy (we're all guilty of this). The film's music, especially the songs by fictional pop star Moretti (John Malkovich) is pretty good. (He's kind of like Depeche Mode meets the Weeknd) I find it's hard to nail a real world sound for fictional music stars, but they knocked it out of the part with the imitation.

I also really liked the world-building. This cult is committed to an ideology called "Levelism" that feels kooky, yet fully fleshed out (and let's be real, not that dissimilar from the ideas of people like Peter Thiel or Curtis Yarvin).

It's also a really well shot film, with some impressive camera work and stunning visuals; the lighting is great, as are a lot of the costumes, sets, and makeup effects. One scene in particular - with undoubtedly the film's best and frankly, nastiest, kill - made my skin crawl. You'll know it when you see it.

That being said, Opus never quite hits the level of films like Get Out, Midsommar, The Menu, or The Invitation. For one, as lovable as Ayo Debiri is, she's basically playing the same character she always plays; brimming with nervous awkwardness. Her character is boring and essentially an empty vessel, lacking interiority. (And yes, I know this is on purpose. No, it doesn't make the movie better)

I also wasn't blown away by John Malkovich either; he actually felt very miscast to me. He didn't have the gravitas or energy for a role like this to truly work.

The film has bold ideas, but the script feels inefficient. It doesn't drive its points home, its characters feel underwritten, and I feel like the need to make everything "creepy" - as per subgenre conventions - took away from the point of the story. We're not supposed to come into the compound feeling uneasy, it's should feel like a kid getting invited to the Chocolate Factory, but it doesn't.

Opus is feels like someone offering you another appetizer after you've finished a dinner. Even if it's good, you don't REALLY want to eat it. Maybe with a bit of time, you can appreciate it later at home, but it won't be as good as it would've been, had you had it earlier.