‘Death of a Unicorn’ – Review
Death of a Unicorn is WTF cinema at its finest, a savage slice of psychedelic fantasy horror that rips through genre tropes like a unicorn’s horn through a trust fund baby’s chest cavity.
When a man (Paul Rudd) and his daughter (Jenna Ortega) accidentally hit and kill a unicorn with their car, his boss tries to exploit the creature’s miraculous curative properties – with horrific results.
When we see the A24 logo hit the screen, we know we’re about to enter the wild side, and Death of a Unicorn doesn’t just dip its toe into madness, it cannonballs in headfirst with glitter, gore, and a healthy dose of anti-capitalist rage. Directed by Alex Scharfman in a truly audacious debut, Death of a Unicorn is a demented cocktail of fairy tale nightmare, corporate satire, and monster movie mayhem. It’s a what-the-fuck thrill ride from start to finish—and we’re 100% here for it.
Paul Rudd dials up the nervous energy as Elliot Kintner, a grieving lawyer trying to keep his fractured family together, while Jenna Ortega proves once again she’s Gen Z’s scream queen supreme as Ridley, his eco-conscious, no-nonsense daughter. When a early morning drive ends in the accidental killing of a unicorn, yes, a real-deal horned beast of legend, the Kintners find themselves drawn into a surreal corporate retreat from hell at the lavish private estate of Elliot’s boss: pharmaceutical tycoon Odell Leopold (a scene-chewing, velvet-voiced Richard E. Grant). It’s here the film shifts gears and accelerates into full-blown madness. Odell, alongside his power-hungry wife Belinda (Téa Leoni in gloriously cold-blooded mode) and their coked-up, crypto-bro son Shepard (Will Poulter, going full douchebag), decide the unicorn’s body could be the key to the next billion-dollar biotech breakthrough. What follows is a savage unraveling of greed, privilege, and man’s arrogance against nature, because mama nature isn’t just angry, she’s freaking furious, and she’s bringing back-up in the form of a herd of horned hellspawn!
Think JAWS meets The Witch meets Succession on ayahuasca. Scharfman doesn’t just lean into the absurd—he charges it with the intensity of a stampede. The unicorns are equal parts beautiful and terrifying, brought to life with a dazzling blend of practical effects and dreamy digital enhancement. The violence is brutal, the kills are creative (let’s just say you’ll never look at a horn the same way again), and the humor is pitch-black perfection.
But Death of a Unicorn isn’t just about body count. There’s something thoughtful simmering under the surface here. Rudd’s Elliot is a man on the edge, torn between doing what’s right and preserving the fragile remnants of his cushy life. Ortega’s Ridley is the soul of the film, a Gen Z heroine caught between disillusionment and hope, and she plays it with quiet strength and haunting vulnerability as she takes on the role of an almost fairy tale princess. Meanwhile, Will Poulter absolutely devours the screen as Shepard, serving up every line like a shot of Red Bull mixed with ketamine. His performance is manic gold, and he walks away with every scene he’s in.
This is a film that swings big and lands it; bold, bloody, and bonkers in the best way. It’s also visually stunning, with dreamlike cinematography that contrasts serene woodland landscapes with bursts of shocking violence and surreal magic. And yes, it’s funny, viciously, irreverently funny, in that delicious A24 way that tickles your brain while turning your stomach.
Death of a Unicorn is a midnight movie in the making. It’s got cult classic energy dripping from every glitter-soaked frame, and it’s proof that Alex Scharfman is a wild new voice to watch in genre filmmaking. If you’re looking for something safe, predictable, and polite, turn back now. But if you want cinema that grabs you by the face and screams “WE KILLED A FREAKIN’ UNICORN,” then this one’s got your name written in blood and sparkles.
Image: A24
