DEATH OF A UNICORN. A Fantasy Horror from A24 [REVIEW]

And yet unicorns are such charming creatures. Their daily life is limited to carefree frolicking in meadows, cheerfully butting each other with their horns, and altruistically bestowing the world with their magic. Even-toed cuties, true embodiments of goodness – at least that’s the conclusion one might draw based on a few seasons of the show My Little Pony (don’t ask me how I know that). However, if unicorns really existed, their existential situation would probably look quite different. For example, like in Alex Scharfman’s debut film, Death of a Unicorn – magical creatures here fall victim to boundless human greed, thirst for domination, and desire for immortality. Although they have done no harm to anyone, living quietly in mountain caves, the animals become targets of a major pharmaceutical corporation that sees an opportunity to multiply profits in the miraculous properties of their horns.

Attacked, the unicorns decide not to surrender without a fight. The whole commotion starts – as is often the case in horror movies – rather innocently. A father (Paul Rudd) and daughter (Jenna Ortega) drive through a nature reserve. They are on their way to meet a family of millionaires – the man’s employers, who tempt him with the prospect of joining a lucrative company. Communication between father and daughter, to put it mildly, is flawed. He wants to provide prosperity for his daughter because he promised his wife, who is dying of cancer.

She feels like a mascot, dragged on a trip by force, only to boost her father’s negotiating position. A quarrel in the car, combined with an allergy to pollen and constant nose wiping, has tragic consequences. The man fails to notice in time an animal that suddenly ran onto the road. When the characters get out of the car, it turns out they didn’t hit a monstrous deer or an oversized moose. They see a real unicorn – wading in purple blood, dying right in the middle of the road. The dead (for now) unicorn is loaded into the trunk and, lacking a better idea, taken to the meeting with the millionaires.

Scharfman thus initiates a true genre melting pot. His film begins as a situational comedy with elements of family drama, then evolves into a sharp satire under the banner of “eat the rich,” to end as a fantasy horror with a pair of bloodthirsty unicorns killing representatives of humanity one by one. The debut director handles these genre shifts surprisingly well. Above all: he skillfully combines comic elements with scenes of brutal, inventively staged deaths. He builds a loose, casual atmosphere that allows enjoyment of the successive executions while still caring about the fate of selected characters.

Scharfman fares somewhat worse when his film moves into dramatic registers. The thread of unresolved trauma after the death of mother/wife is exceptionally unsubtle and only finds resolution in the climactic sequence, in which the characters – instead of solemnly monologuing about previously unexpressed feelings – should focus on the down-to-earth fight for survival (especially since an angry unicorn is quite literally knocking at the door). Similar dramaturgical lapses – unfortunately, there are a few more – are compensated in Death of a Unicorn by an excellent cast. The supporting roles and actors who balance on the edge of caricature throughout the screening stand out especially.

The pretentious millionaire family – Richard E. Grant, Téa Leoni, and Will Poulter – is as unbearable and disgusting as they are funny. We wish its members the most painful deaths, yet feel sad when they disappear from the screen for good – their moral corruption is so enjoyable to watch. The trio has excellent comedic timing, feeds off each other, and performs very well in ensemble scenes. They are supported by, among others, Anthony Carrigan in the role of the friendly servant Griff – one of those exceptional secondary characters we root for more sincerely and strongly than the main protagonists.

Death of a Unicorn smoothly fits into the genre of Jurassic Park-style horrors. The message is clear: not all elements of the natural world should be exploited by humanity. Those who think otherwise receive a painful, yet deserved lesson. The most common criticism directed at Scharfman’s film (besides the poor CGI) concerns its predictability. However, leaving the screening, I thought that predictability does not always have to mean something bad.

If a film is well made and provides the desired experience, using established genre schemes, then what’s the problem? Hollywood’s golden rule – at least according to Blake Snyder – states that viewers should be given “the same, but different” every time. Death of a Unicorn, with all its flaws, turns out to be a model example of this rule: solid entertainment, constructed as God (the Producer) intended.