01 Apr REVIEW – ‘Death of a Unicorn’ never fully capitalises on its intriguing concept
Death of a Unicorn is sadly one of those films that seems to promise more than it can deliver. On the surface, it’s an enticing idea—a quirky, darkly comedic narrative involving a magical unicorn, strange visions, and an exploration of moral boundaries. The premise suggests a blend of satire, fantasy, and family drama that could’ve offered something unique, even genre-breaking. However, despite a few glimmers of potential, the film ultimately falls short, stumbling under the weight of an overcomplicated plot, uneven performances, and a tone that can’t quite decide what it wants to be. While there are some redeeming elements, Death of a Unicorn never fully capitalises on its intriguing concept.
The plot revolves around Elliot Kintner (Paul Rudd), a father spending a weekend at the remote estate of his ailing boss, Odell Leopold (Richard E. Grant), and his family. During the journey, Elliot accidentally collides with a unicorn foal, setting the stage for a series of bizarre and macabre events. Ridley (Jenna Ortega), his distant daughter, becomes the first to experience the unicorn’s strange powers, while the Kintners and the Leopolds delve into increasingly dangerous territory with the creature, whose magical healing properties seem to have the potential to cure ailments—at a steep moral cost. The film presents a story full of satire aimed at corporate greed and unethical scientific experimentation, but it often feels like it’s treading water rather than making a meaningful point.
At the heart of the film is a critique of corporate and scientific manipulation, but the satire is heavy-handed and lacks subtlety. The Leopolds’ treatment of the unicorn quickly veers from scientific curiosity to exploitation, as Death of a Unicorn attempts to position itself as a cautionary tale. However, the social commentary gets bogged down by the film’s inability to balance its message with its more fantastical elements. The film tries to be both a biting satire and a touching family drama, but the results are muddled. The plot introduces a range of intriguing ideas, such as the unicorn’s mysterious powers and the way the characters react to these abilities, but it never quite settles into a cohesive narrative. The pacing drags in places, and by the time the story begins to develop some momentum, it quickly shifts gears, making it difficult for the audience to remain emotionally invested.
One of the film’s primary issues is the unbalanced tone. It fluctuates erratically between moments of wry humor, dark absurdity, and horror, with the result being a narrative that feels disjointed. The jokes are hit-or-miss, and the tonal shifts—especially during the more intense, violent moments—feel jarring. The inclusion of a larger unicorn, which terrorises the characters, aims to heighten the stakes, but it also disrupts the film’s momentum. These tonal inconsistencies prevent the film from fully taking advantage of its potential, leaving the audience with a strange, somewhat unsatisfying experience.
Despite these flaws, the performances are, for the most part, a saving grace. As the beleaguered father, Rudd brings his signature charm and affability to the role, though he struggles to elevate the material. His natural comedic timing is evident, but the character’s arc doesn’t give him much to work with, leaving Rudd to do his best with the few emotional beats the script offers. Ortega provides a grounded and often thoughtful performance as a moody young adult and the film’s true heart. Her character’s moral dilemma is the closest the film comes to achieving any real emotional depth, and Ortega’s ability to convey both vulnerability and strength in the role is a highlight.
On the other hand, the supporting performances fall somewhat flat. Typically a magnetic screen presence, Grant is woefully underutilised as the ailing CEO. His character’s motivations remain unclear for much of the film. By the time the character takes centre stage in the narrative, it feels like more of a narrative convenience than a fully developed role. Poulter struggles to make an impact, with his character ultimately feeling like a hollow archetype. The film seems to waste its talented ensemble cast on roles that don’t allow them to shine, leaving the actors to navigate a script that lacks nuance.
Visually, the film doesn’t quite live up to its potential. The CGI used to bring the unicorns to life is underwhelming at best, with the creatures looking less like magical beings and more like poorly rendered video game characters. This lack of visual polish detracts from the film’s sense of magic and wonder, especially when compared to other films that have managed to bring mythical creatures to life with far more finesse. Director Alex Scharfman occasionally employs physical robotic versions of the unicorns, which look far more impressive than the computer-generated versions, begging the question of why they weren’t utilised for the entire production.
The narrative’s reliance on gore and violence as comedic elements also starts to feel repetitive. The death of the unicorn and the gore that accompanies it seem to be there purely for shock value, but they don’t offer much beyond momentary shock. What could’ve been a poignant moment of thematic weight is reduced to a cheap gag that undermines the seriousness of the film’s central moral conflict. That being said, the death scenes are expectedly outrageous, and there is some giddy joy to be found in watching some of the film’s more detestable characters get what’s coming to them.
The film’s attempt to blend horror and humor is perhaps its most ambitious flaw. In theory, Death of a Unicorn could have been a darkly comic exploration of the absurdity of corporate greed, but the execution falls short. The horror elements, which could have provided a sense of tension and unease, are instead buried under layers of forced humour and over-the-top gore. The result is a film that fails to deliver either genuine scares or laughs, leaving it feeling flat and ultimately forgettable. The tonal inconsistencies are jarring, making it difficult to connect with the characters or the story on any meaningful level.
There is, however, something intriguing about the screenplay’s exploration of the moral consequences of exploiting nature and science for personal gain. While the execution leaves much to be desired, the film does raise interesting questions about the lengths to which people will go to retain their power and wealth, and the extent to which they are willing to sacrifice the very things that make life meaningful. Yet, even with this thought-provoking premise, the film ultimately falls short in its execution. The underlying theme of the importance of preservation, particularly in relation to nature and innocence, is drowned out by the film’s erratic pacing and lack of emotional resonance.
Ultimately, Death of a Unicorn is a film that feels like it should have been more than the sum of its parts. The concept has so much potential, with its satirical take on corporate greed and its examination of the moral consequences of scientific exploitation. However, it is weighed down by uneven performances, an incoherent tone, and a lack of emotional depth. The few moments of success, such as Ortega’s nuanced performance and the film’s satirical take on corporate excess, are not enough to outweigh the film’s numerous shortcomings.
The film may find an audience in those who appreciate its dark humour and offbeat premise. For many, Death of a Unicorn will remain a missed opportunity. It’s a movie that tries to balance horror and social commentary, but in the end, it never quite figures out how to make the magic work. As we stumble from one chaotic scene to the next, it becomes increasingly difficult to care about the outcome, and by the time the credits roll, all that remains is a sense of disappointment.
Distributor: VVS Films
Cast: Paul Rudd, Jenna Ortega, Will Poulter, Téa Leoni, Richard E. Grant
Director: Alex Scharfman
Producers: Lucas Joaquin, Tyler Campellone, Drew Houpt, Lars Knudsen, Alex Scharfman, Tim Headington, Theresa Steele Page
Screenplay: Alex Scharfman
Cinematography: Lary Fong
Production Design: Amy Williams
Costume Design: Andrea Flesch
Editor: Ron Dulin
Music: Dan Romer, Giosuè Greco
Running Time: 107 minutes
Release Date: 10th April 2025 (Australia)