Death of a Unicorn sounds like the kind of movie you make up on the spot during a game of Mad Libs: Paul Rudd and Jenna Ortega hit a unicorn with their car and then get pulled into a corporate conspiracy to profit off its magical corpse. But no, this is a real movie. It premiered at Sundance, had A24 buzz all over it, and promised a genre-bending mix of dark comedy, horror, and satire. And… well, it definitely bent genres. Whether or not that worked is another story.
The setup is honestly kind of brilliant: a father-daughter duo—Elliot (Rudd) and Ridley (Ortega)—accidentally plow into a unicorn en route to a company gathering at a cabin. Already, you’re thinking, “Yes, go on.” But then it morphs into a cautionary tale about biotech, capitalism, and the ethical dilemma of whether to sell unicorn blood to billionaires. One of those billionaires is Elliot’s boss, Dell Leopold, played by Richard E. Grant, who delivers every line like he’s one glass of wine away from total villainous meltdown. Spoiler: he gets there.
From the start, the film tries to have its rainbow-frosted cake and dissect it too. It’s part indie drama, part twisted fairytale, and part anti-capitalist satire—all coated in a thick layer of “look how quirky we are.” And sometimes it works! Jenna Ortega, per usual, is magnetic and dryly funny, managing to ground scenes that could’ve easily tipped into full absurdist chaos. Paul Rudd brings his signature likability, which helps sell a character that oscillates between earnest dad and biotech shill.
Visually, the movie is impressive. Filmed in the Hungarian countryside (which does an excellent impression of a vaguely magical nowhere), it has this eerie, modern fairytale vibe that fits the premise perfectly. The unicorn itself—while never the main character—looks appropriately tragic and otherworldly, like something from a Lisa Frank fever dream gone wrong.
But where Death of a Unicorn struggles is in, well, deciding what the hell it wants to be. There’s commentary on corporate greed, but it’s not biting enough to land. There’s horror, but it never fully leans into it. There’s comedy, but it’s sporadic—like someone sprinkled punchlines into a different movie entirely. It’s like being on a road trip where the driver keeps changing the destination but refuses to explain why. You’re just along for the ride, hoping the snacks hold out.
There are moments of brilliance, like a scene involving unicorn blood and an investor pitch that’s as darkly funny as it is deeply unhinged. But for every moment like that, there’s another that feels undercooked or tacked on. By the time biotech and mythology collide in a lab filled with dollar signs and questionable moral choices, you’re either invested in the weirdness or wondering how much longer this is going to go on.
Ultimately, Death of a Unicorn is a movie with big, sparkly ideas and not quite enough follow-through. It’s unique, for sure—how many movies can you name that involve unicorn-based pharmaceutical research?—but uniqueness alone doesn’t make for a satisfying watch. It’s kind of like eating a really pretty cake that tastes like cardboard. You admire the creativity, but you’re not going back for seconds.
If you’re into offbeat satire and can tolerate a little narrative chaos in your cinematic diet, it’s worth checking out. Just don’t expect much.
OUR VERDICT
Discover more from itsm3g
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
