Opus -- Pointless or Purposeful? A24's Wellness Horror and the Ethics of Influence

A film that vanishes as much as it reveals, Opus leaves us with more discomfort than resolution—and that's probably the point.

What's wrong with being "mid"?

The question defensively pops into my mind, since I'm a person that would closely identify with Ayo Edibiri's character, Ariel, in A24's most recent horror film, Opus. Ariel's boyfriend, Kent, played by Young Mazino (who's picked up literal steam for me from the dopey romantic he plays in Beef to the hunky, kind survivalist in The Last of Us), he calls Ariel's perspective and experience "middle" as she talks about why she writes, and what she ultimately wants to do with her career.

He answers the question for us: being "middle" means you have no trauma, no edge, no adverse experiences, no perspective. No lens through which to view the world with an actual opinion.

Ouch.

But he also says it's all right, because that middle experience is true for most people.

But this "middle experience" and lack of opinion and perspective is somewhat problematic in a day and age where silence and neutrality are often called out for being acts of complicity in broken and harmful systems.

But is it problematic for a journalist? Should a journalist have a take or an angle that clearly displays their opinion? Or is their job to report the facts in such a way that allows the audience, viewer, or reader to draw conclusions based on as objectively shared facts as possible?

Ariel's boss, Stan, played by Murray Bartlett, even calls her and her peers' out: "Are we done? If social media wants to freak out over every rumor, so be it. But you guys are supposed to be journalists."

The film is asking us to consider the role and definition of modern day journalism:

What does it mean to be a journalist in 2025?

What is the role of the news in 2025 America? How has it changed? What's remained the same?

What is the responsibility of journalists and reporters?

These are some of the major questions of our time, especially as we witness the ongoing degradation of media and critical thinking.

Opus (2025), A24's most recent horror drop, is a satirical slow-burn about wellness culture, influencer aesthetics, and the slow erasure of selfhood in the age of curated storytelling. It only makes sense for the film to beg the question of

What's the impact of an opinion?

If you're an educator, film student, or someone just trying to make sense of what this film is doing: you are not alone.

And that may be exactly what Opus wants us to sit with.

Effective or Pointless?

Let’s get right to it: Some viewers may find Opus boring. Purposefully obtuse. Frustratingly ambiguous.

Others (myself included) will find it quietly devastating, and in the least, thought provoking.

This film asks you to consider whether you are contributing to harmful systems, simply by existing and moving through your life with the best intentions, as Ariel seems to. While Ariel clearly has angles and takes on stories, and wants to become a writer, she's easily overlooked and bypassed by her boss, Stan, and those around her. Although the filmmakers are suggesting otherwise to us – do you notice the way she's made to stand out in this opening image?

In this opening sequence, Ariel has the floor as she pitches her story. We only hear her voice as she pitches, her boss even tells her great work, only to nonchalantly turn to those seated closest to him and tell them to assign Ariel's story to another writer. Ariel is invisible even when she has a voice. Yet, she is the one invited, along with her boss, to megastar music artist, Alfred Moretti's, secluded enclave for a private performance of his new album. Ariel isn't driving the narrative forward, she's being pulled along while growing increasingly suspicious of her surroundings. She's not even sure what story she’s in. She just knows something’s wrong.

Ariel's experience might echo our own. In a time where it feels impossible to make definitively good choices and statements without being misconstrued, edited, or taken out of context, is there even a point in trying? Is it pointless to try and be a moral person in a system designed to absorb and neutralize resistance?

What Is This Film Saying About Influence, Individualism, and the Modern Self?

Ariel is a cipher. She's beautiful but unassuming, ethical but passive, curious but non-confrontational. She’s trying to move through the world with integrity—but with no real sense of what she stands for. When Young Mazino’s character, her boyfriend, calls her "middle," it stings. It also reveals something vital: she's not extraordinary, and even when Moretti literally hands her the tools to look extraordinary – is she? Has she changed? Or is it all a projection and a brand image?

In a media landscape built on takes, virality, and extremes, Opus gives us a character who is trying to live ethically without performance. But even her attempt to tell the story truthfully at the end is absorbed and used by the very system she thought she escaped.

Think: the commodification of the personal. The influencer economy disguised as activism. Wellness as branding. Healing as product. And all of it inside a society that will gladly consume your trauma and disappear you the moment you no longer serve the narrative.

Are We All Just Pawns in the System?

In a final interview with Moretti, Ariel attempts to speak her truth, but she discovers she's just another tool in a long game for the Levelists. Moretti reveals that Ariel's disappearance, silence, and supposed "escape" was orchestrated to add mystique and fuel to Levelist goals.

This sets Ariel on edge, and in a final interview, Ariel's asked, "what does it feel like to have written the book that everybody's talking about?". The focus of the question is not about Ariel's writing talent, her experience, moral compass, or integrity, but on the celebrity of her book. In response, the final image, is Ariel's frustration and silence. We sit with her. With the discomfort. With the unresolvable tension between wanting to do good and realizing you've been used.

The Good Place quickly came to mind. That show explores how the world has become so convoluted that even good actions are tainted, or "bad". The system never adjusted, so literally no one could make it into "the good place" anymore. But while Eleanor and her friends are able to change the system in The Good Place, Opus asks us to sit in the current moment where maybe even your resistance can be hijacked.

Can there be an ethical self under late stage capitalism? Or is ethics now only possible as a brand image?

Questions to Take to Class (or Just to Sit With)

• Is Ariel a protagonist we’re supposed to identify with? Or critique?
• Does Opus suggest that morality and intention still matter—or that they don't stand a chance?
• What does it mean to disappear by choice versus be disappeared by a system?
• How do you know if you're the main character of your own life... or just a background player in someone else's story?
  • What cultural perspectives/defaults/philosophies are reflected by framing this question in this way?

TL;DR: Opus is not interested in satisfying answers, but it may be one of the more quietly radical films of the year for the very questions it provokes. Educators and students might not agree on what it all "means"—but sitting in that ambiguity is part of the point.

And maybe that's the only place left where meaning can still be made.