'Opus' review: John Malkovich plays pop superstar in clumsy thriller

In "Opus," John Malkovich plays a world famous, seismically important pop music star, which isn't the would-be thriller's only problem, but it's a big one.

In no world does Malkovich, a ball of wiry intensity and eccentricity, look, sound or move like a pop star. The movie would have you believe his character, Alfred Moretti, is some sort of cross between Michael Jackson, Leonard Cohen and Kanye West.

But none of that squares in the real world, and the movie's music — from the team of Nile Rodgers and The-Dream — doesn't do any of the legwork needed to convince viewers that Moretti is a transcendent, once-in-a-lifetime pop talent. You'd have an easier time believing Tilda Swinton playing Britney Spears.

In his debut feature, writer and director Mark Anthony Green is taking aim at the cult of pop stardom, celebrity worship and the media's role in maintaining superstar mythmaking. So maybe Malkovich's miscasting and the fact that his music is bad is part of the point? If satire is the goal here, Green's pen isn't sharp enough to land the argument, and the takeaways are too broad to have any real sting.

We open in the world of magazine journalism, territory former GQ staffer Green knows well. Ariel Ecton (Ayo Edebiri, a bright spot as always) is a young magazine staffer whose pitches are good enough to be accepted, but are handed off to other writers. She wants to make a name for herself, but is never given the opportunity.

That changes when Moretti announces "Caesar's Request," his first album in 30 years — what's the parallel for a pop star taking a 30-year break? Is there one? — and invites a small group of press to his remote Utah ranch, where they'll be pampered for several days and will be privy to a listening party with the man himself.

Ariel receives an invite, along with her gatekeeping boss Stan ("The White Lotus'" Murray Bartlett), Emmy-winning talk show host Clara Armstrong (Juliette Lewis) and famous photographer Bianca Tyson (Melissa Chambers).

Fans are camped out at the gates of the ranch, while inside, staffers are like watchdogs on the guests. Immediately someone goes missing. Ariel is the only one who sniffs out that some of this may be off, her fellow press members are too disconnected from reality to notice.

Meanwhile the weirdness mounts, and it becomes clear that Moretti's cult of personality is more cult than personality. By the time we arrive at the standard horror movie beats and bloodletting, "Opus" has careened off the rails, and a postscript ties up few of the many dangling threads.

There's little sense of tension or suspense as the story unfolds, the only comparisons to "Midsommar" come from its daylight setting. And the pop music stuff feels phony; making Moretti an author rather than a pop star might have taken care of some its issues.

"Opus" wants to have bite, but its only insights are into the magazine world, and the struggle young writers face to find their voice. There's richness to be found there, but otherwise "Opus" is in need of a new draft.

agraham@detroitnews.com

'Opus'

GRADE: D

Rated R: for violent content including a grisly image, language, sexual material and brief graphic nudity

Running time: 103 minutes

In theaters