Death of a Unicorn

In Death of a Unicorn, attorney Elliot Kintner and his twentysomething daughter, Ridley, drive through a wilderness—supposedly “untouched by man,” yet they’re on a paved highway—heading to his client’s mountain sanctuary for a crucial meeting. Momentarily distracted, Elliot hits an animal on the road. Neither of them can believe their eyes when that animal turns out to be a unicorn, the stuff of legend. Drawn to the mystical creature, Ridley touches its horn—an iconic symbol in countless fairy tales and folklore. Overcome by its power, she feels instantly transported into the cosmos. Just then, Elliot uses a tire iron in a blunt mercy killing. But despite appearances, the animal will soon spring back to violent life. Paul Rudd and Jenna Ortega star in this genre-spliced A24 release, written and directed by Alex Scharfman. It’s a fun idea for a magical realist romp, but the movie tries to include too many genres—comedy, horror, action, satire, family drama—and does none of them well. 

The scenario finds Elliot groveling at the feet of Odell Leopold (Richard E. Grant), the head of a pharmaceutical family, doubtlessly modeled after the Sacklers. Odell is riddled with tumors and finalizing the details of his empire with Elliot’s help. For his part, Elliot, a widower, hopes to win over the Leopolds and ensure a secure financial future for Ridley, who refuses to play sycophant to the super-rich. Odell’s haughty wife Belinda (Téa Leoni) and pompous son Shepard (Will Poulter) observe while their beleaguered butler Griff (Anthony Carrigan), amusingly annoyed, acquiesces to their every request. Eventually, the unicorn Elliot and Ridley stored in the back of their rented SUV awakens, becoming the focus of the Leopolds’ attention, particularly after they realize the fabled animal’s blood has miraculous healing properties that could cure Odell. 

Two scientists (Sunita Mani, Steve Park) join the frantic effort to dissect the creature and monetize its secrets. Having touched the unicorn’s horn, Ridley feels a connection. However, after researching medieval tapestries depicting unicorn myths online, she warns that the unicorn may be dangerous. Sure enough, much larger unicorn parents arrive and proceed to slaughter anyone in their path as they look for their injured child. Scharfman turns the situation into a mix of Aliens (1986) and Jurassic Park (1993), complete with a heavily armed hunting party using bleeping sensors to track down two intelligent, bloodthirsty beasts with glowing horns. The gory outcome delivers plenty of shocks, the novelty of unicorns making it ironically amusing, yet the intended impact falls flat.

Unfortunately, the movie doesn’t have a strong enough screenplay or inventive enough premise to overlook its shoddy visual effects. The unicorns look just plain bad, making any suspension of disbelief a challenge—if not impossible for this critic. Lousy CGI can sometimes be ignored if the narrative has enough thrust, but Scharfman’s characters remain one-note tropes without anything interesting to do. The Leopolds are caricatures. Elliot and Ridley’s father-daughter dynamic, strained over their recent loss, is clichéd and hollow. The excellent cast helps distract from the banal characterizations, but not even the ever-charming Rudd, Grant, and Leoni can breathe life into these dull roles. Ortega seems committed to her part, but Ridley never registers as a dimensional character, either. 

Though A24 is known for championing visually distinct filmmakers, Scharfman’s execution feels disappointingly generic. Cinematographer Larry Fong, who shot several Zack Snyder films, some forgettable blockbusters, and many plastic direct-to-streaming spectacles—The Predator (2018), The Tomorrow War (2021), Damsel (2024), etc.—lends no particular style to the movie. The blood and guts occasionally appear practical, but more often than not, they’re delivered with subpar CGI. Everything’s well-lit and devoid of personality, like a studio comedy. Had the world-building been more detailed or the character development more compelling, these flaws might have gone unnoticed.

If Death of a Unicorn has anything to say, it’s an unsubtle message about how quickly the wealthy will exploit natural resources, no matter how precious or rare. Fair enough. But the message hardly lands because Scharfman doesn’t deliver convincing unicorns. Had they looked like believable versions of the majestic creatures of legend, their violation might have felt more powerful—a clearer crime against Nature. Instead, they look like rejected designs from some 2000s-era adventure flop. It’s not a scary creature feature, an exciting actioner, a moving drama, or a hilarious comedy—almost no aspect of the movie works. What’s most frustrating is that Scharfman has assembled such a talented cast and promising concept, but he realizes none of their potential.