Opus Review: An Exclusive Album Listening Party Turned Nightmare

Opus builds its tension gradually, but it never fully commits to the weirdness that would make its well-worn premise pop. While the setup is compelling—one part industry satire, one part psychological horror—the movie hedges its bets on the bizarre, keeping the truly disturbing revelations bottled up until the final act. Despite its name, Opus never quite becomes the grand statement it wants to be.

Opus (2025)
Opus (2025)

‘Opus’ Movie Review

Opus (2025) is the kind of movie that feels instantly familiar. A group of outsiders ventures into a strange, isolated setting where something sinister lurks beneath the surface. You’ve seen versions of this narrative in Midsommar, The Menu, Get Out, and more recently, Blink Twice. Now, director Mark Anthony Green—making his debut with A24—adds his voice to the chorus with Opus, a sun-drenched thriller that hits many of the right notes stylistically, even if the melody doesn’t quite stick.

Ayo Edebiri stars as Ariel Ecton, a rising pop culture writer desperate for a scoop big enough to elevate her status in a cutthroat media world. That opportunity arrives in the form of an exclusive, ultra-secretive album listening party for legendary recording artist Alfred Moretti (John Malkovich), being held at a mysterious desert retreat. Ariel joins her slick boss Stan (Murray Bartlett), along with a colorful cross-section of media personalities—an influencer, a talk show host, a paparazza, and a shock jock—for what’s billed as an immersive musical experience. Phones are confiscated. Their every move is shadowed by a strangely vacant concierge. It’s only a matter of time before the mirage of luxury gives way to a darker truth.

Opus builds its tension gradually, but it never fully commits to the weirdness that would make its well-worn premise pop. While the setup is compelling—one part industry satire, one part psychological horror—the movie hedges its bets on the bizarre, keeping the truly disturbing revelations bottled up until the final act. And when they do arrive, they come all at once: disappearances, a disturbing descent into cult behavior, and a final confrontation that tries to twist the narrative one last time before the credits roll.

Edebiri is a compelling lead, grounding the increasingly absurd events in something relatable and sharp. John Malkovich, meanwhile, is perfectly cast as Moretti, a reclusive, Kanye West-esque figure whose charm and mythos have grown into something messianic. He brings real gravitas to a surreal mid-movie performance sequence—arguably Opus’s most memorable moment—and manages to strike the balance between enigmatic and terrifying. Bartlett, too, adds some slick edge to the ensemble, though the remaining characters feel more like archetypes than people.

There are flashes of brilliance here, especially when Opus leans into its commentary on the cult of celebrity and the media’s willingness to turn a blind eye in exchange for access and proximity to power. The film makes some sharp observations about the way fame can distort perception, how we let idols off the hook for increasingly questionable behavior, and how influence is a form of control. But the thematic ideas get spread too thin, diluted by the film’s need to be mysterious rather than incisive.

By the time the blood finally spills and the twist-laden ending reveals its hand, it’s hard not to feel like Opus missed the chance to go deeper or wilder. The final beat—Ariel having turned her harrowing experience into a bestselling exposé, only to be thanked by Moretti in prison for expanding his cult’s reach—introduces one last layer of ambiguity. But instead of feeling provocative, it lands like an afterthought.

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There’s still enough here to make Opus a watch worth taking: solid performances, a surreal desert setting, sharp production design, and just enough mystery to carry you through. But for a movie that flirts with madness and media satire, it ultimately plays things safer than it should.

Opus is stylish, intermittently sharp, and occasionally thrilling—but despite its name, it never quite becomes the grand statement it wants to be.

Score: 6/10

Opus (2025)

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