[Rating: Minor Rock Fist Up]
In Theaters March 29
A 21st century class warfare morality play wrapped in fantasy garb, Death of a Unicorn does more skewering than the bloodthirsty equines featured, here. A stunningly violent story that feels like the lovechild of Jurassic Park and Knives Out, the film aims high, doesn’t quite hit its target, but lands close enough to the bullseye to make the effort worthwhile. Even so, for a film that plays with such wild ideas, it is the normal ones that find the most traction, here.
Corporate attorney, Elliot (Paul Rudd), and estranged daughter, Ridley (Jenna Ortega), are driving to the nature preserve chalet of pharma-boss Odell Leopold (Richard E. Grant) one bright sunny day when they strike a unicorn at high speed. Stunned, terrified, and mesmerized at the prospect of their simultaneous discovery/murder of a “new” species, the pair pack the body into their rental car and continue to their destination. Elliot and Ridley’s attempts to keep the incident a secret fail, much to the delight of Odell, who is in the final stages of a cancer battle and wants to harvest the blood, bone, and tissue of the creature as a Hail Mary curative.
And wouldn’t you know it? It works!
While Elliot scrambles for the scraps from Odell’s pharmaceutical exploitations, Ridley spars with the rest of the Leopold family, including wife, Belinda (Téa Leoni), and adult son, Shepard (Will Poulter), over the history of unicorns in literature and folklore. A couple hours of Google research convince Ridley that the unicorns are a harbinger of doom, not fortune, and that any attempts to harvest their magic will result in catastrophe. No spoilers, but Ridley is onto something with her findings, and before long everyone in the remote lodge is grappling with a murderous unicorn gang situation.
The basic ingredients of the movie make for a fun time with prescient social themes woven into the fabric of the smaller family story, which remains the sort of true north of the picture. Writer/director Alex Scharfman sprinkles in just enough backstory for Ridley and Elliot to give their strained relationship a believable bent, especially in light of dad’s behavior around the mega-rich Leopolds. A stock morality tale about mankind’s propensity for greed in response to powers not at all understood, the film works best when leaning on the unresolved tension between father and daughter as a component of this larger thematic stew.
And while the film should be commended for crafting a believable, effective emotional core, the fact that this is the most interesting ingredient of a movie about bloodthirsty unicorns is something of a larger indictment. Indeed, when the movie tackles the central conceit of the plot it’s just okay, and delivers about what one would expect from the broad set-up. Like, it’s obvious someone is going to grind up/snort that horn, or cook a unicorn steak, or shoot up some purple rainbow blood…and they do…but none of it really amounts to much. And while Scharfman makes sure nothing ever veers off into boring territory, it is a bit surprising that some of the 2nd act’s (non-emotional) developments carry so little weight.
And while the unicorns themselves don’t look…great, Scharfman’s other visual choices are consistent and clever. Ridley’s hoodie draws out Little Red Riding Hood themes consistent with her character (i.e., being able to spot a wolf in disguise), and the garb of the Leopolds (not to mention the name itself) harken back to 19th century colonial motifs very much in line with the movie’s messaging. Close, static shots of the creatures themselves look okay, but any time the unicorns have to move or engage with practical set pieces or characters, the CGI comes off as dodgy at best and cartoonish at worst.
One area where the production doesn’t skimp is its casting budget, which spreads the love around via a stable of dependable character actors, most of whom maximize their on-screen impact. The one exception is Rudd, who plays against type as the stuffy, emotionally unavailable straight man, and for maybe the first time in the actor’s career, is the least dynamic and interesting part of the cast. Ortega’s layered work opposite him counterbalances this and gives their relationship the legs needed to carry it into the final minutes, where all of this work pays off. She doesn’t do it alone, however, and is aided in no small part by Poulter as the spoiled man-child/foil of the group, along with Anthony Carrigan in a scene-stealing turn as the butler, Griff.
So yeah: Death of a Unicorn is fun, interesting, and good (enough). Shoddy CGI work and a somewhat flat performance from Rudd as co-lead keep it from realizing its full potential, though its timely social themes and propensity for splatter kills keep it interesting if nothing else. And while unicorns themselves may be nothing more than the stuff of legend, the cinematic world where they can live, thrive, murder, and generally smite their enemies is real AF.
“Obvious Child” is the debut novel of Warren Cantrell, a film and music critic based out of Seattle, Washington. Mr. Cantrell has covered the Sundance and Seattle International Film Festivals, and provides regular dispatches for Scene-Stealers and The Playlist. Warren holds a B.A. and M.A. in History, and his hobbies include bourbon drinking, novel writing, and full-contact kickboxing.
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