Opus
A group of young artists is invited to a secluded theater for a mysterious creative retreat led by Dominic Ellison, a brilliant and unsettling music producer. What begins as a rare opportunity soon turns into a nightmare, as disturbing artistic rituals and psychological manipulation blur the lines between art, cult, and madness.
With Opus, Mark Anthony Green delivers a visionary debut that blends psychological drama, celebrity cult satire, and elegant horror. This is a baroque and unsettling film, set in a world where art becomes power, and talent turns into religion.
The story revolves around a mysterious figure—possibly a genius, possibly a manipulator—who leads a select group of individuals through what feels like a creative ritual. The setting is theatrical, oppressive, and dripping with symbolism. Neon lights and stage smoke evoke an atmosphere halfway between a cult and an apocalyptic show.
The cast is outstanding: Ayo Edebiri is intense and layered, John Malkovich is hypnotic and grotesque, while Juliette Lewis and Murray Bartlett deliver strong, unsettling performances. Stephanie Suganami is a revelation, magnetic and ambiguous.
Although Opus isn't a traditional horror film, it contains deeply disturbing and psychologically eerie scenes: artistic rituals with esoteric overtones, power games that spiral into emotional violence, and hallucinatory moments that border on nightmare. It’s a horror of the soul and identity.
The pulsating, obsessive soundtrack pulls the viewer into a sensory descent into the darker side of creativity.
Opus is ambitious, twisted, and mesmerizing. It's an experience that strikes more with symbolism than with fear, but still leaves a haunting impression that lingers long after the credits roll.
