Pops Saw Some Movies: OPUS and SMILE 2

In the past week, I’ve watched two horror movies set in the world of pop music, one of them surprisingly much better than the other, both of them making me think about my relationship with that genre (pop music, not horror). 

The new A24 film, OPUS (written and directed by Mark Anthony Green) is about a hugely popular and influential pop star who comes out of retirement after decades to release his long-gestating masterpiece. Alfred Moretti (now there’s a pop icon name for ya) invites a small, select group of media tastemakers to his Utah compound for a special listening event, but everything goes south when it turns out that he’s a cult leader whose agenda only starts with revenge…

It’s… not good. It’s head-scratchingly bad, in fact. Despite a nice performance by Ayo Edebiri of THE BEAR as the hero of the piece (the one chosen guest who’s not a drooling sycophant of Moretti), there’s way too much of a been-there-done-that feel to this movie (many have noted its similarities to films like MIDSOMMAR and THE MENU, the latter of which I quite enjoyed, the former, not so much), and this horror sub-genre has reached the saturation point at which there are very few surprises (even the jump scares don’t pop). The ending is also a little muddled and forced, and I won’t spoil it apart from saying that its metaphor of the cultural brainwashing that a cult of personality engenders is not only a bit heavy handed, but almost redundant at this point. 

But the film’s biggest blunder is its casting, primarily of the enigmatic and hypnotizing pop icon. Alfred Moretti is presented as being bigger, more acclaimed, and more influential than Madonna, Taylor Swift, David Bowie, and Michael Jackson combined. There’s a montage of his last hit, “Dina, Simone” being sung along to by fans around the world and it is a laugh-out-loudly unbelievable construct in which dozens of wannabe actors get their Tic-Toc moment (which, I guess, is apt). Numerous times we’re shown that there are millions who would sell their soul to be in the presence of this icon.

... And he’s played by John Malkovich. No, for real. 

Now, Malkovich is obviously a great actor. Few would argue that. And he chews the scenery in many glam outfits that would make Elton John say, “that’s a little much, don’t you think?” But if part of the point of this movie is the superficiality of celebrity worship, wouldn’t it have made more sense to cast someone who… how can I put this… looks a bit LESS like… John Malkovich? The actor actually sings and raps and dances in a few scenes, and it mostly made me cover my eyes in embarrassment more than any sense of horror. It’s such a weird misstep that I have to imagine Green has some kind of reasoning for the casting, but for me (and others), it just makes the whole setup impossible to buy. 

I mean, at this point, A24 has pretty much lost any automatic prestige it once enjoyed. But let’s move on. 

A few nights later, I decided to watch last year’s SMILE 2 (written and directed by Parker Finn), despite having never seen the first entrant in the series. The plot is pretty simple: A demonic entity moves from victim to victim, causing them to experience horrific hallucinations that eventually drive them insane, compelling them to commit heinous acts until they kill themselves, the demon then jumping to any nearby human vessel (the “Smile” is the demon attempting to ape human emotions and not really getting it).

The possessed person in this film is Skye Riley, a pop star recovering from both addiction and a tragic, drug-fueled car accident that killed her actor boyfriend (she caught the demonic entity from a former dealer from whom she had the misfortune to try to buy some Vicodin). Skye’s comeback is overseen by her manager mother, whose unwavering support is tested by the increasingly erratic, unhinged behavior of her daughter. Skye is told the true nature of her possession by the brother of a former victim of the entity, but it takes a few more nightmarish events / hallucinations for her to be convinced. Skye then takes radical action to free herself of the Smile demon. 

The film is better than I expected, with some genuinely creepy moments (the eeriest one being a scene that contains practically no gore, but rather a smiling, advancing pack of background dancers in Skye’s apartment) and a wallop of an ending. But what truly makes this movie worth a watch is its lead, Naomi Scott, who gives an absolutely astounding performance as the tortured Skye Riley. Scott manages to make us feel empathy for a character whose flaws and wasted opportunities (even before she becomes possessed) normally elicit schadenfreude from an audience who always thinks they’d handle wealth and fame better. She beautifully portrays the conflicted emotions a celebrity often feels towards their fans and their fame. But once the demon takes hold of Skye, Scott’s portrayal of her escalating confusion and terror is nothing short of brilliant. I am not shitting you, I have NEVER seen a performance like this in a horror movie… or any film in which the protagonist suffers an unimaginable nightmare. It’s not just Scott’s willingness to make herself look bad, grimacing with snot running out of her nose and clumps of hair pulled from her head, she absolutely makes you believe that her entire life is falling apart in the worst way imaginable, and there’s nothing she can do to make it stop. It’s a stunning performance, and if I gave any credence to movie awards of any kind, I’d call it a crime that she’s not nominated for anything (genre acting rarely is). 

But what also struck me watching both of these movies back to back is again how utterly disconnected from mainstream America I often am. The pop music world in which these films are set is something in which I’ve never had an iota of interest (aside from a very brief period when I kinda dug Madonna), and often held in high disdain. I sometimes even forget that overproduced, visually-centered, hyper-theatrical, choreographed, style-over-substance stuff like this is something that MOST of the humans unabashedly enjoy without a lick of irony. I mean, I get it, neither of these movies would have worked as well if they’d employed the lead guitarist of a traditional rock band (such as they exist anymore), that the theatricality and excessive lifestyle of a huge pop star makes for a far more dynamic and accessible milieu. But I do wonder if my antipathy towards that genre made me enter these movies with more detachment than if, say, the singer in OPUS were more Bowie and less Swift? Or maybe because I think that stuff is already inherently horrific, it actually helped me to get into the horror mindset? Hm? 

Anyway. Don’t visit a cult compound. Or buy a ticket for stadium pop concerts. It’s risky.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

POSTSCRIPT: A few days after posting this, I watched M. Night Shyamalan's TRAP, another thriller set in the world of pop music. I'd not bothered to see this movie before because I am most decidedly NOT a fan of that particular auteur. I probably should've sucked it up and watched it to round out this review, but...  no, on second thought, I'm glad I didn't. 

Pops Watched TV: ADOLESCENCE

I tuned out after two episodes of Netflix' limited series, ADOLESCENCE partially because I’m already depressed enough about what social media has done to society, but also one of the reasons I took a pass on procreating was to avoid this kind of agony. 

But the main reason I couldn’t keep watching was the show’s usage of the supremely tiresome SINGLE SHOT for each episode, which I find a distracting, pretentious trope that negates one of the medium’s primary storytelling tools (being editing). It worked in Alfred Hitchcock’s ROPE (wherein the single apartment setting made it a more subliminal trick that did actually amplify the tension), but every use since then (including BIRDMAN and OLDBOY and yes, even the opening of GOODFELLAS) has just taken me out of the moment as I find myself paying attention to the technical HOW way more than the narrative WHAT (which is not a good thing on which to focus). 

As always, your mileage may vary. Oh, and I keep meaning to ditch Netflix, so this is a good li’l kick in that direction. 

Mego Key Parties

 Based on these photos found in some recent eBay auctions, there must have been some crazy Mego key parties going on in the swingin' '70s! 

Pops Saw a Movie: NOSFERATU

 Years ago, when I first heard that Robert Eggers was interested in doing a NOSFERATU remake, I was over the moon; I couldn’t have imagined a better match of director and material. F.W. Murnau’s unauthorized 1922 adaptation of DRACULA has always been my favorite iteration of that character (or at least the most terrifying) and I was certain that Eggers’ vision and immaculate filmmaking skills would make for way more than just a superfluous adaptation.

So I entered the Alamo Drafthouse Brooklyn last Thursday (along with my brother, Ken, who graciously treated) with way higher expectations than I normally afford myself when going to the movies (even with that occurrence being very rare in the After Times).

And it was fine. I liked it. But NOSFERATU was not the immersive, terrifying experience for which I’d hoped.

I think for me, the biggest issue was that Eggers’ laser-focused insistence on period accuracy worked against the film in this case (unlike in THE VVITCH, when it enhanced that movie’s mood and effectiveness). Making sure your characters are clad in the right clothes, living in the right environments, utilizing the right implements are all laudable goals… to an extent. But when working in the realm of fantasy, shouldn’t there be a little leeway?

Yeah, I’m talking about the mustache. I mean, not JUST the mustache, but the fact that Robert Eggers INSISTED that his Count Orlok (well played by Bill Skarsgård) have a big bushy lip scrub just because it was the style at the time felt like a bit too much. The only aspect of this version of Nosferatu that’s anywhere near as terrifying as the gaunt demon played by Max Schreck over a century ago is his hands (and maybe his coat… but an outer garment shouldn’t be more imposing than Nosferatu’s face). It’s almost as if Eggers forgot that you don’t have to make everything believable IN A VAMPIRE MOVIE.

But it’s not just Skarsgård’s mustachioed, rotting zombie behemoth that dampened my enthusiasm… The first act kind of fell apart for me when Thomas Hutter (Nicholas Hoult, who will also be in the only other movie I plan on seeing in the theater this year) reached Castle Orlok… rather than the traditional build of tension and terror as the young clerk transacts his business within the confines of the strange, disturbing place, things get crazy pretty much immediately, with a perpetually panicked Hutter trying to escape like Bugs Bunny in the clutches of the mad scientist. And having Ellen (a fantastic Lily-Rose Depp) give herself to Orlok at the very beginning of the movie makes the conclusion a bit anticlimactic.

But I did not dislike the film as a whole. The acting is good, the cinematography is gorgeous (although part of me almost wishes Eggers had filmed it in black and white, as the washed out tones are almost never punched up with any color that might’ve added some graphic intensity), there are a handful of indelible shots… but I was expecting more than a handful. Most of the time, it didn’t even feel like a Robert Eggers film to me (an opinion that’s raised some disbelieving hackles amongst my film nerd friends). My favorite thing about this movie shouldn’t be its logo.

Again, my expectations were probably too high. I should know better. We’ll see how I feel when I watch it again after it drops on some streaming platform (and I am glad I didn’t wait for that to see it the first time… I missed all of Eggers’ previous films on the big screen, which I regret).

I should also comment on this being my first Alamo Drafthouse experience… another thing that’s been hyped over the years to lofty assumptions. And again… it was fine. But, like so many other things in the 21st century, for me, it’s TOO much choice. I’m on record as disliking assigned seating in movie theaters, but at least the “no talking, no cell phones” rules eliminate the main reason that I usually want the freedom to move. The reclining lounge chairs are nice, but not necessary. And while it’s great (GREAT) to be able to order a beer or a cocktail, I neither need nor want more than traditional snacks during a movie. I don’t even like the idea of those shitty nachos or hot dogs at the average multiplex. Who the hell wants to eat wings or a burger in a darkened room where you can’t see what you’re doing and the smell is as liable to be intrusive to other patrons as when people chow down on a subway car (which is, of course, verboten)? Bottomless popcorn, yes. Fish and Chips? Hell no!

But, as usual, that’s just me.

(And thanks again, Kenny! It was a really fun day!)