‘Death of a Unicorn’ Is a Piercing Thriller-Comedy

As the lights dim, the theater is united through the shadows of moviegoers’ unicorn horns, their headbands evoking the elusive beasts peeking out over the seats.  

Written and directed by Alex Scharfman, “Death of a Unicorn” is half comedy, half thriller and fully an inventive cinematic vision. 

Paul Rudd and Jenna Ortega lead as the work-obsessed father Elliot and his angsty daughter Ridley. Traveling to a secluded business summit at the mansion of dying CEO Odell Leopold (Richard E. Grant), the father-daughter pair accidentally hit — and later kill — the titular, mythical equestrian. 

After discovering the unicorn’s extraordinary healing properties, the aristocratic Leopold family hatches a plan to monetize the mystical creatures.

While set in the modern day, the movie adopts a medieval aesthetic, relying heavily on stone masonry, barrel vaults and candle-lit chandeliers. The “Hunt of the Unicorn” tapestries — a set of medieval narrative textiles — are central to the film, setting the blueprint for the Leopolds’ exploitation of the horned animal, as well as Ridley’s plan to save them. 

Underscoring the magical main plot of the film is Ridley and Elliot’s waning relationship, with the duo struggling to deal with the death of Ridley’s mom. Through the familial turmoil, Ortega (“Beetlejuice Beetlejuice,” “Scream”) gives a genuine portrayal of teenage grief, making sure not to succumb to the overused stereotypes of annoying angst or unrealistic emotional maturity.

While both actors give commendable performances, the star of the film is by far Will Poulter, who plays Odell’s bossy and self-absorbed son, Shepard. From witty one-liners to comedic comebacks, almost every one of Poulter’s (“Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3,” “Midsommar”) lines is funny.

“Are you kidding me? Cancer? That’s, like, the biggest one,” Shepard exclaims after finding out unicorn blood healed his father’s cancer.

Poulter’s humorous hedonism peaks when he becomes addicted to snorting and smoking the unicorn’s horn, causing him to experience painfully euphoric visions — some of which provide him with guidance and clarity in turbulent situations.

Anthony Carrigan plays the Leopolds’ ever-annoyed butler, Griff. Carrigan’s (“Barry,” “Gotham”) unwavering irritation and apathy for his job form a comic niche. Whenever called upon — no matter how small the request — Griff rolls his eyes and quickly disappears, begrudgingly fulfilling each order.

At its core, “Death of a Unicorn” explores capitalistic greed, especially that of pharmaceutical companies. Mirroring big pharma, when the already wealthy Leopold family finds a miracle cure, they attempt to further overflow their pockets. 

Fortunately, as a work of fiction, each member of the money-hungry family meets their own “horny” demise while trying to chase endless riches.

One technical highlight of “Death of a Unicorn” is its experimentation with perspective by cinematographer Larry Fong. In an extended single-shot scene, the camera flies sporadically around the living room, capturing the growing excitement of the group’s miraculous discovery — as if the camera were a fly buzzing through the space.

Yet a fault in the film’s look comes from its title creatures — the unicorns. Rendered in CGI, the majestic beings’ porcelain white pelts are illuminated by their glowing white and gold horns. However, when angry, the unicorn’s snow-colored fur is stained with dark greys and black, evoking a sinister sentiment. 

From afar, the bloodthirsty creatures look like menacing beasts. But up close, the brutes tread in the uncanny valley territory, their stiff bodies clashing with their over-emotive faces. When contrasted with a fantastical pony body, razor-sharp teeth fail to send chills up spines. 

Other VFX shortcomings include an unrealistic-looking car crash and the messily animated, recurring aurorae that light up the movie’s sky.

The gruesome killings make up for the unicorns’ imperfections. Scharfman (“House of Spoils,” “Resurrection”) takes each slaying to new heights, ranging from a simple kick in the head to two unicorns jousting a human target.

Disrupting the film’s suspense-filled climax is an unexplained — and messily executed — time skip, cutting from the dead of night to the middle of the day. The odd cut causes “Death of a Unicorn” to stumble in its final minutes, erasing any previous tension.  

At times, Scharfman’s screenplay is painfully blunt and one-dimensional, occasionally making the movie feel more like a late-night PSA. Characters outright state how they feel, instead of allowing for audience interpretation. 

Even though the film’s potential isn’t fully realized, “Death of a Unicorn” remains a seat-gripping, gut-busting commentary on capitalistic greed and grief, told through the eyes — or rather, horn — of a fairytale creature.
“Death of a Unicorn” opens in theaters March 28.