Director Mark Anthony Green sat down with three college journalists on Wednesday, March 5, to answer questions about his new comedy/thriller film “Opus.” Green, himself a former journalist at GQ, was gracious enough to give his time and provide insightful answers to our questions.
Shawn Quek, representing the Chicago Maroon, UChicago’s student newspaper, asked Green how he balanced tones while on set.
“The creative endeavor is to make a thriller; the human in me is just such a smart ass. I can’t not make a joke,” Green said. “I don’t know that that is something that I can do, I can’t. I will break.”
That impulse is probably why his movie isn’t very good.
If you’ve seen “Glass Onion” or “The Menu” or “Triangle of Sadness” or “Midsommar” or “Blink Twice,” you’ve seen a better version of “Opus.” The nadir of the recent ‘Rich People Who Own Islands Are Evil’ genre, Green’s feature debut is a pastiche of a pastiche lacking any significant artistic voice or a compelling story unto itself.
The film follows Ariel (Ayo Edebiri), a young journalist hungry to take on a real story. When she and her boss Stan (Murray Bartlett) are invited to the vast estate of reclusive rockstar Moretti (John Malkovich) to listen to his new album in private, they soon discover that his wealth and eccentric personality belies something more sinister.
It’s not like reviews out of Sundance were exactly glowing, but it is truly shocking how disjointed “Opus” feels.
Despite an admittedly interesting opening credits sequence that promises an examination of fandom as a cult, the film quickly descends into meaningless signifiers pointing toward the vague direction of a theme without actually saying anything about the nature of celebrity worship.
I would say it’s style over substance, but then I would be lying, as this film doesn’t have much in the way of style either. It looks fine — everything that should be in focus is. Green has a basic understanding of the language of an edit, but it lacks any vision. Shirley Kurata’s costume design and production designer Robert Pyzocha’s sets lend some vibrancy to the frame, but it’s not enough for camerawork that feels like any schmuck who can operate an ARRI Red could’ve done it.
A great artist once said that directing is simply an exercise in tone management. If that’s the case, “Opus” is a failed experiment. While wearing its influences on its sleeve, the film fails to have a real perspective on journalism, idolatry or itself because it can’t decide if it wants you to scream or laugh.
Green said in a Q&A at the Music Box Theatre on Tuesday, March 4, that he hates being pretentious or seeming pretentious. In my humble opinion, he could stand to be a little more thoughtful about his work. Many directors prefer for the audience to forget they’re watching a movie, but at what point does it feel like the director forgot they’re making a movie?
The sacrificial lamb here is the film’s stacked yet under-served ensemble. Green said he didn’t base Malkovich’s rockstar psychopath character on anyone in particular, and you can tell.
Malkovich is undeniably having fun, but he feels inconsistent scene-to-scene. Bartlett is frantically waving around trying to get his dead-air character somewhere interesting; he doesn’t succeed. Tony Hale is criminally restricted to two short scenes and Amber Midthunder delivers a fun physical performance that feels beneath her incredible talents.
Green’s most frustrating fumble is Edebiri, one of my favorite actresses who has yet to be in anything good (“Theatre Camp” excluded). Her trademark mannerisms remain intact — the stuttering, the refusal of social norms, the naturalistic acting — but it’s built on top of an underwritten final girl whose main character trait just seems to be ‘skeptical.’ Can someone please reteam her with Rachel Sennott again? I’m not talking about you, “Bottoms.”
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