A high-class spy drama from Steven Soderbergh that’s perfect in just about every way, and a horror satire that mercilessly lampoons the rich and famous, get the spotlight this week.

“Black Bag” >> Just about as dashing and irresistible as a 1930s matinee idol, Steven Soderbergh’s spy thriller seduces and charms, a perfectly made cocktail that is as sparkly and efficient as it is enjoyable. David Koepp’s oh-so-witty screenplay meshes with Soderbergh’s sly canon; the duo collaborated on “Kimi” and “Presence” and are tailor made for crafty material such as this. That applies to its attractive cast, each actor relishing the chance to toy around with his or her castmates and doing so with crisp timing and so much panache.

Michael Fassbender and Cate Blanchett give off body heat as an erudite married couple employed as spies by England’s National Cyber Security Center. George is a master at calling out liars, and is an equal to Thomas Keller in the kitchen. He always looks dapper in his crisp, snug-fitting white button-down shirts. Kathryn wafts of sheer elegance wherever she roams, and is shrewd and a step ahead of anyone around her. She can smell a rat a country away. The two share a passionate love, but it gets threatened when George is told she might be a mole and could be moving around a potentially lethal cyber worm. To figure out if she’s the guilty party or if the culprit is one of their four colleagues (played by Marisa Abela, Tom Burke, Naomie Harris and Regé-Jean Page) George throws a posh dinner party where tea gets spilled, as does some blood. The paranoia escalates from there.

There are a boatload of tasty red herrings to get you tangled up in the plot, and then there’s Pierce Brosnan as Kathryn’s smug boss, Arthur Steiglitz. It’s his best performance in a while. “Black Bag” peppers in dashes of “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?,” as well as tastes of Hitchcock, Soderbergh’s “Oceans” romp, “Mr. & Mrs. Smith” and even a jigger of a John le Carré spy thriller. But never does it seem derivative or an outright copycat.

Everyone in the cast is impossibly attractive and wears fashionable threads that never have the indecency to express one unfortunate wrinkle or unseemly seam (costume designer Ellen Mirojnick’s excellent work must be highlighted) while the production design is filed with eye candy, and will make homeowners want to redesign their kitchen to look something akin to what George and Kathryn have. But what’s really so polished like cutlery about “Black Bag” — besides its wicked humor and dialogue — is how vivid and fully developed each character is. That’s not easy for a film that runs just over 90 minutes.

Its success is not just due to the sets, the fashions, the writing and the cast, but the director as well (who also serves as cinematographer and editor). He knows how to be playful and coy but never loses sight of the sleight of handiwork he must pull off with confidence and aplomb — just like the master chef George in the kitchen. “Black Bag” is pure movie magic, a flaming Cherries Jubilee that you can’t get enough of.

Details>> 4 stars out of 4; in theaters Friday.“Opus”>> Mark Anthony Green’s observations from his stint as a GQ style/arts columnist fuel his barbed-wire feature debut, a compelling horror satire that does a bloody good job of skewering the same pop-culture world he inhabited and covered.

Green’s got a lot on his mind and his freaky tale blasts the cult of celebrity culture and explores how fans’ zealous adoration and the constant pampering stars receive can produce monsters amongst us. Fame, as the film slams home, can even tempt and lure a so-called “innocent” into a trap. Those of-our-times themes offer a lot to chew on and sometimes it’s all too much, with Green tripping over himself in the final act. He sprints through a shocking finale, and it would have been more effective if he had taken more time to better execute the chaos.

“Opus” hits the bullseye in its first half by adroitly juggling humor with “Midsommar-”tinged weirdness as a crew of media types (Ayo Edebiri, Juliette Lewis, Murray Bartlett, Stephanie Suganami, Melissa Chambers and Mark Sivertsen) receive a special invite to a freaky cult-like enclave way out in the Southwest. Each represents someone who parasitically benefits from the actions and accomplishments of celebrities, and becomes a celebrity in their own right.

They, of course, jump at the invitation and the chance to meet the enigmatic, most popular living music idol, their cuckoo host Moretti (John Malkovich, inhabiting weird spaces only a rich and famous person could, and doing so with a dead-eyed look). The recluse of 30 years comes out of hibernation and emerges with a new album that fires up more brain-dead devotion and fawning.

Touting a faith that draws in the youth and includes harmful edicts that are utterly nonsensical, Moretti’s “retreat” turns ever more bizarre when he makes requests and then performs in front of his guests. It’s one of the strangest sites you’ll see in a movie this year.

Green holds back on the violence until he unleashes it with a primeval viciousness that is shocking and brutal. There’s an abundance of strange behavior throughout and exceptional setting-the-mood cinematography from Tommy “Maddox” Upshaw.” Even though “Opus” hiccups at the end, its many pieces fit well together to hold up a mirror to a world gone mad by the idols it produces and the people who want in on the mirage.

Details >> 3 stars; in theaters Friday.