Hell hath no fury like a Unicorn scorned. (Or is that Uni-scorned?)
In Death of a Unicorn, we meet lawyer Eliot Kintner (Paul Rudd) and his daughter, Ridley (Jenna Ortega) as they embark on a weekend retreat. Having recently suffered the death of his wife, Eliot and Ridley are invited to the reclusive mansion of his billionaire boss, Odell Leopold (Richard E. Grant) in order to secure a (potentially lucrative) role in their company. However, after they accidentally hit and kill a unicorn along the roadside, the creature’s miraculous properties sets off a battle between families to exploit them for massive profit.
Directed by Alex Scharfman, Death of a Unicorn is closer to Cocaine Bear than it is to Lord of the Rings. Leaning into the utterly ridiculous, the film relishes its bizarre premise, focusing on the more comedic aspects of the film rather than the horror itself. Though, don’t get me wrong. When Scharfman finally unleashes his mystical fury, you may never view unicorns quite the same way again. For example, Scharfman clearly has an affection for the Alien franchise and he borrows reminiscent of their vicious attack formations. (Even Ortega’s character name sounds suspiciously like the last name of Weaver’s famous space-heroine, Eleanor Ripley.)
Even so, in general, this is a film that embraces the bizarre… and loving it.
Of course, the film is buoyed by strong performances by its comedic leads. The ageless Rudd is having fun as the morally conflicted father. Tea Leoni (where has she been!?) seems re-energized as the nasty (but doting) Belinda. Even Richard E. Grant seems to be relishing the opportunity to play the deliciously malevolent Odell. (Ironically, it’s Ortega who is giving the least opportunity to have fun in the role, even though she’s the film’s central character.)
Without question though, the film’s MVP remains Poulter. As the whiny and privileged son, Shepherd, Poulter goes all in. Throughout the film, Shepherd is a bizarre mixture of amicable and utterly reprehensible. Whether he’s sitting in the hot tub or screaming for his butler, he remains vapid and focused entirely on himself, even if he claims to want what’s best for others. But Poulter seems so invested in this character that we can’t help but relish his performance.
Yet even with its whimsical world, Unicorn has more on its mind than fantasy murders (or is it murderous fantasies?). Instead, Unicorn works best as a satire on the toxic nature of big pharma. Without giving too much away, the mysterious magic of the unicorns offers tremendous upside, both personally and financially.
And this is not lost upon the Leopold clan.
As they begin the realize the true potential of unicorn remains, the opportunity to take advantage of what lies in front of them becomes the proverbial forbidden fruit. Suddenly, the joy of the discovery becomes tainted by ambition and greed. As their souls darken, Unicorn begins to ask the question of what it means to ‘own the magic’.
There’s just something fun about Scharfman’s concept. This is a world fueled by human toxicity yet held in juxtaposition to the reality of unicorns and magic. In this world, mythology is meant to be taken seriously yet those who refuse do so at their peril. There’s a genuine psychological disconnect between these two worldviews and Scharfman manages to make the most of the opportunity to explore that divide. What would the natural human response be to the discovery of everyday enchantment? In a world marred by selfish ambition, the desire to control (and capitalize upon) the wonder feels almost natural. As a result, even in its wildest of moments, there’s something that feels strangely… real… about this Unicorn.
Nevertheless, Death of a Unicorn really is all about the fun. This isn’t a film that’s gunning for Oscar glory. Instead, it’s A24 at its most A24-ishness. This is a weird and wild world that provides surprisingly smart social commentary underneath, proving that there just may be some magic in this mix after all.
Death of a Unicorn is available in theatres on Friday, March 28th, 2025.
