Film Review: "Death of a Unicorn"
The newest A24 film is a fun, if rather uninspired, horror comedy/creature feature that puts a unique spin on the myth of the unicorn and offers a pointed fantasy about the demise of the wealthy.
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Warning: Full spoilers for the film follow.
I think it’s safe to say that Death of a Unicorn might have the most unique and quasi-ridiculous premise of any movie of 2025. After all, this is a movie about a father and daughter duo, Elliott and Ridley Kintner (played by Paul Rudd and Jenna Ortega) who, on their way to a retreat hosted by Elliott’s boss and his family, end up hitting a unicorn. At first they think they’ve killed the poor creature but, after they reach their destination, it not only becomes clear that the thing isn’t dead; its parents are out for revenge. What follows is one part eat-the-rich fable and one part splatter creature feature, as the various members of the villainous Leopold family–father Odell (Richard E. Grant), mother Belinda (Téa Leoni), and son Shepard (Will Poulter), as well as their servants and pet scientists--are devoured or gored or chased away by the rampaging equine monsters.
As other reviewers have noted, this film is perfectly cast. Rudd is charming (if more than a little irritating) as a father trying to contend with both his grief over his wife’s death and his desperate efforts to provide for a daughter he doesn’t understand and who wants little to do with him. Richard E. Grant is deliciously scenery-chewing as always, sliding nicely into the role of a terminally ill pharmaceutical mogul who sees in the unicorn’s healing blood and horn the possibility for both his own salvation and a lot of money, and Leoni shows again why she’s one of today’s most versatile actresses. The real MVP of the movie, however, is Will Poulter, who continues to show that he is the go-to actor to play douche-bros whose overweening ego is only matched by their utter incompetence. It probably goes without saying that Ortega is also perfectly cast as the broody youth who is the only one who understands that the unicorns are pissed and aren’t going to stop until they get their baby back.
Narratively, Death of a Unicorn doesn’t outstay its welcome, moving along at a brisk pace. Writer/director Alex Scharfman has written a well-paced script that slowly builds the sense of unease and dread in the film’s first third, and there’s just enough humor to make you chuckle but not enough to make you guffaw. For the most part the film treads a fine line between the gruesome pleasures of the creature feature–there are a number of particularly schlocky kills, particularly one in which Leoni’s Belinda is first gored and then viciously disemboweled by one of the adults unicorns– and knowing humor. Poulter in particular is so hammy and over-the-top in his performance that you can’t help but laugh, particularly since he acts just like the kind of maladjusted techbros that we see in the real world all the time.
Thematically, the film is a bit more of a mixed bag. Clearly, it’s yet another of those eat-the-rich parables that are all the rage in pop culture these days and, don’t get me wrong, I’m very much here for it. If the tyranny of Elon Musk and his fellow tech oligarchs has shown anything, it’s that the rich really do feel that they are entitled to do as they like with the Earth’s resources–including its people, whom they view as little more than cogs in their machine–and so this part of the film does feel remarkably true to live. The Leopolds are unabashed and unapologetic about the fact that they plan to use the unicorn’s biological materials for their own benefit, and even their justifications feel a little too on the nose (Shephard talks with one of his connections about MBS of Saudi Arabia). Clearly, there’s not a great deal of subtlety to this particular roasting of the indulgences and short-sightedness of the rich, and it’s the bluntness of the characterizations that sometimes undermines the film’s alleged intentions.
At the same time, I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t something intensely satisfying about seeing entitled rich dipshits get their comeuppance at the hands of two horned horses with fangs and sharp teeth. Given the extent to which we’re all very much at the mercy of people like Musk–who have essentially been given the keys to the kingdom, no matter what we plebs might think about it–it sure does seem as if movies are fated to endure their nonsense for the foreseeable future. Movies like Death of a Unicorn, then, allow us to know what it would be like if the real monsters among us got their comeuppance. At least, that is, until Trump and his goons decide that this kind of art is too subversive and must be squelched.
As for the unicorns themselves, the CGI is a bit rough in places, but I actually found the creature design to be quite good at times, particularly once the beasts start invading the compound and impaling and devouring those who’ve taken their child captive. They manage to strike the right balance between beautiful and monstrous and, as such, they are reminders that nature itself is like that. I also appreciated that they seemed to have some deep, primordial connection to the afterlife that Ridley and Elliott both encounter when they touch the creatures’ horns. I can’t help thinking that, had the film been just a bit braver–and perhaps a bit less inclined to comedy, it’s weakest element–it might have actually approached something close to the sublime.
This is particularly true when it comes to Ortega’s Ridley, who is repeatedly ignored or dismissed by everyone around her, including her father (I found myself starting to wish that he was one of those who got devoured by the unicorns, if I’m being honest). There were some really smart moments with her character, including a moment when she seems to inhabit one of the parent’s psyche while she’s sleeping. Though this connection is returned to later in the film–when Shep makes use of her bond with them to capture the parent unicorns–it still felt underdeveloped, as if Scharfman didn’t quite know what to do with the idea once he’s established it.
I have to admit, though, that I loved the fact that the film makes ample use of the Unicorn Tapestries, a truly remarkable series of tapestries possibly woven in the late 15th or early 16th century and now house at the Cloisters in New York (with a remarkably detailed replica set currently on display Stirling Castle in Scotland). They remain truly remarkable pieces of art, and it’s quite fun to see the film giving art history its due, since Ridley is briefly said to be pursuing a degree in the field. You see, kids, arts education could end up saving your life, in the event that you’re being terrorized and nearly eaten by predatory unicorns!
Overall, I found Death of a Unicorn to be a fun and enjoyable film, if not quite on the same level as we’ve come to expect from a studio like A24. Then again, the studio does deserve a lot of credit for being willing to run with such a silly idea. If the film had been just a bit braver and audacious in its approach, and if it hadn’t so desperately sought to use humor to give some extra teeth to its satire, it could have ended up being a great horror film. Instead, it’s a fairly mediocre creature feature quasi-comedy. Still, there are worse things, and it’s worth a watch.