Partly an impale-the-rich horror comedy, partly a fantasy monster movie, and partly a father-daughter trauma drama, Death of a Unicorn tackles more tones and ideas than a firmly established filmmaker could probably manage, so it’s no surprise that writer-director Alex Scharfman, making his feature debut, struggles to rein this in. But you have to admire the ambition and bonkers vision. Paul Rudd plays Elliott, corporate counsel to the family of a pharmaceutical empire. Called to help ailing magnate Odell Leopold (Richard E. Grant) finalize his estate—and hoping to angle for a more powerful position within the company—Elliott brings his crusader college kid, Ridley (Jenna Ortega), to the meeting at the Leopolds’ remote mountain compound, hoping to present as a dedicated family man. Given Ridley’s disdain for her father and everything he represents, this probably wouldn’t have gone well even if a unicorn with magical healing powers didn’t become involved. Rudd gives a rare, humorless performance, though he’s not helped by the script, which characterizes Elliott as little more than boring, greedy, and spineless. Ortega works overtime to give the central relationship some nuance, but the movie doesn’t quite know what to do with her authenticity. Only Tea Leoni and Will Poulter—as Odell’s performatively philanthropic wife and useless, pampered son—bring the comic instinct and timing to make their farcical scenes work, but even they wear thin when it becomes clear they won’t evolve beyond caricature. As for the unicorn element, a little Miyazaki-style wonder might have gone a long way to giving the movie any weight, but Scharfman chooses schlock instead. I suppose the sketchy special effects fit with that decision, but it’s unfair to ask any effects artist—especially on this level of production—to sustain the extended creature sequences Death of a Unicorn contains. Steven Spielberg kept Bruce the shark mostly off camera for a reason.
(3/25/2025)
