A Bizarre, Mythical Collision of Satire and Fantasy
Death of a Unicorn is a rare breed in modern cinema. It presents a completely original story that blends absurd comedy, biting satire and eerie folklore into a surprisingly emotional experience. Written and directed by Alex Scharfman in his feature debut, the film takes a concept that sounds absurd and transforms it into something oddly grounded and occasionally profound.
The plot follows Elliot Kintner (Paul Rudd) and his daughter Ridley (Jenna Ortega) as they travel to the countryside estate of Elliot’s boss. During the drive, they accidentally hit a unicorn. What starts as a freak accident quickly spirals into a strange and dangerous situation. The unicorn’s mystical properties spark a frenzy among a wealthy and powerful family, who see it not as a creature of wonder but as an opportunity to exploit. As the situation escalates, Elliot and Ridley find themselves hunted by two vengeful parent unicorns while trapped in a house full of increasingly unhinged humans.
The performances are one of the film’s strongest assets. Paul Rudd delivers his usual likeable charm but with a weariness that grounds the character. Jenna Ortega brings intensity and emotional clarity, capturing both teenage scepticism and wide-eyed wonder. Richard E. Grant plays the sinister Odell Leopold with a quiet menace, while Will Poulter, Téa Leoni, Stephen Park and Sunita Mani round out the supporting cast with memorable turns that balance absurdity with threat.
Visually, the film shows ambition. While some of the CGI falls short in high-motion scenes, the practical effects and design choices are bold and effective. There is a recurring visual motif where the unicorns change colour based on their emotions. This, combined with Ridley’s psychedelic visions and the estate’s dreamlike atmosphere, gives the film an otherworldly feel. These flourishes help create a tone that sits somewhere between fairy tale and psychological thriller.
Tonally, the film is all over the place. It swings between heartfelt moments and grotesque satire. One scene presents a magical healing miracle, the next features graphic violence. This unpredictability can be disorienting. The constant shift between themes of reverence and ridicule might alienate viewers looking for a clearer narrative lane. However, the chaos feels deliberate, even if the execution is uneven.
The greatest strength of Death of a Unicorn is its commitment to being strange. It doesn’t follow familiar paths or copy trends. The film draws on real mythology, including medieval views of unicorns as symbols of purity and divine power. These ideas are explored through Ridley, who sees the unicorns as sacred and untainted. Her journey becomes a philosophical one, wrestling with what should be preserved and what should be consumed.
Despite its flaws, the film leaves a lasting impression. The final act brings together absurd humour, horror and tragedy in a way that should not work but somehow does. It may not appeal to mainstream audiences, but it is likely to gain a cult following.
Death of a Unicorn is messy and ambitious. It may stumble at times, but it stands out in a landscape of safe, familiar stories. Scharfman's debut shows real vision and offers a rare kind of cinematic originality.
Rating: 8 out of 10.
Out Now on Digital
