A young writer is invited to the remote estate of a legendary pop star who vanished from the public eye three decades ago. Once there, she is immersed in a world of theatrical self-worship, enigmatic rituals, and a bizarre entourage of cult-like followers and perpetually tipsy journalists. As the days wear on, it becomes clear that her presence isn’t incidental—she’s a key piece in the musician’s cryptic “final performance,” one designed more for personal mythmaking than musical redemption.
We’ve seen variations of Opus before—celebrity recluses, self-reflexive fame parables, artists driven mad by isolation—but this is the most lifeless take yet. It’s both bizarre and boring, which is no small feat. Despite its surrealism, there’s no sense of surprise, no gasp-worthy reveal—just a long, slow drift through carefully lit hallways of pretension. The film is so enamored with its atmosphere that it forgets to do anything interesting within it.
John Malkovich, normally capable of elevating even the oddest material, feels like a miscast relic here—more theater professor than fallen pop icon. His performance never finds a rhythm, veering between disinterested and exaggerated, like a parody of a parody. And while A24 fans are often open to the strange and surreal (myself included), Opus simply doesn’t earn its eccentricities. It mistakes abstraction for depth and ends up feeling hollow.
For die-hard A24 collectors or those curating “celebrity cult” narratives, Opus might still warrant a place on the shelf. But for most libraries and classrooms, this one can be safely skipped. Optional Purchase.
Should public libraries add this thriller film to their collections?
Opus may appeal to fans of experimental cinema and those following the complete A24 catalog, but its slow pacing and abstract narrative make it a niche acquisition. While the film’s themes like celebrity culture, mythmaking, and media manipulation could be used in advanced film studies or media literacy courses, its lack of clarity and emotional resonance may frustrate general viewers. Public libraries building comprehensive collections of independent or surrealist cinema might consider adding it.
Is Opus a good fit for public screening programs?
Due to its slow, ambiguous storytelling and limited mainstream appeal, Opus is unlikely to be a crowd-pleaser in community screenings. Its surreal tone and theatrical flourishes might resonate with a very specific audience, perhaps at an experimental film club or A24 showcase, but it’s not ideal for general public events. Educators and programmers should prepare viewers with context if choosing to screen it, as the film’s atmosphere-heavy style and lack of payoff may otherwise confuse or alienate audiences.