“Death of a Unicorn” Review

As a creature feature, Death of a Unicorn has the rare allure of using killer unicorns in this sub-genre. Of course, there must be more of the violent sight of a unicorn gore humans with its horns, considering that’s more of a 10-second joke in Cabin in the Woods and not a full concept for a feature film. Thankfully, a little bit of heart is thrown in with the blood and guts of this dark comedy that relies more on its absurd energy than brutalizing fantasy creatures to pull it across the finish line.

You can expect unicorns to eat the rich before the film even gets to the central location of a remote estate. Paul Rudd plays the recently widowed dad, Elliot, trying to secure a contract with a wealthy family. On his business trip is his daughter Ridley (Jenna Ortega), who despises how her dad puts business and money over everything else. While en route, they slam into a unicorn, and things can go wild quickly. The injured unicorn bleeds purple and has a glowing horn. The encounter grants curing properties and the ability to see into the great beyond. The father-daughter duo try to cover it up, but the healing unicorn attracts the attention of a sloppy ensemble of wealthy and egotistical snobs. Odell Leopold (Richard E. Grant) is interested in having his cancer cured, his wife Belinda (Téa Leoni) wants to sell this magical discovery, and his son Shepard (Will Poulter) is curious if he can snort ground unicorn horn.

This type of film only succeeds if it leans into the comedic pacing rather than the absurdity. To the film’s credit, the terror of a unicorn finding various ways to penetrate and bifurcate humans is solidly gory and darkly comedic. But you need something more than the characters gawking at those visual effects, despite Gomez having a reaction face ideally suited for horror. The principal cast members play up their strongest traits for these roles. Rudd has consistent dad energy, but posing him as a dad who is more weary of the world and eager to bow to the elite was a unique angle to see. Leoni’s bluster suits her lifestyle, and Poulter plays up the drunk energy of a spoiled brat who thinks he has the world perfectly figured out through his inebriated haze. Even in his older years, Grant still bolts up from his character’s wheelchair for that enthusiastic scene-chewer mode he wields with gusto.

Mind you, while these characters are all fun, they mostly stay in their lane and don’t play off each other when they’re not trying to push to the next scene of dealing with unicorns. I get that this is part of the disconnect that the characters must conquer or let it kill them, but there’s rarely a moment when they all bounce off each other when things go to hell. They all get their hilarious lines but receive few noteworthy reactions as the characters stare in stunned expressions akin to watching CGI unicorns cavort. It leaves little room for the supporting characters of the well-meaning/sympathetic butler Griff (Anthony Carrigan) to shine or the uncertain assertions of the scientist Bhatia (Sunita Mani) to stick out.

The energy forgives most of these complaints, galloping quickly enough to the following one-liner or kill to ward off the tedium. What works for the film is its willingness to try out clever options for this scenario. The unicorn scenario is exploited for those who discover it, chucking scientists at the corpse to figure it out and plotting ways to replicate and sell the magical properties. This all feels like expected territory to pursue, and the results are relatively standard in how the film centers on the hubris of man trying to gut and commodify nature. But it takes a bold step into those areas rather than reserve itself for the simpler avenues it could’ve taken of connecting with the forest or being dazzled by the unicorn’s transcendent visions of the afterlife. There’s never a moment to settle, trotting off to the next weird moment before the mold of mundanity can take root.

Death of a Unicorn mostly delivers on the absurdity of its dark-comedy horror-fantasy, making a decent meal out of the corpse it is dealt. There’s certainly more to explore with the characters and the concept, where it feels like snorting unicorn horn or eating unicorn steak arrives with expected results. More could be explored than how many ways a horn can kill a person, how much purple blood can be spilled, and how magestically horrifying a fantasy creature in modern times can be. But for what room the film grants to roam, it stomps about as hard as a towering unicorn stomping a person’s head until the eyeballs pop out (yes, this does happen in the movie).