Mucking With Movies: ‘Death of a Unicorn’

Some movies are just so easy to write about. I could gush over “Death of a Unicorn” for days and days and days. The audience and I roared with laughter throughout, finding solace in the silliness but warmth in the love the film radiates. It really reminded me of seeing the original “Knives Out” in theaters — nothing to do with the “whodunnit” mystery plot, obviously, but with the tone and early layering of the interpersonal character dynamics. With the audience at ease with the small cast, they’re willing to go along the genre-bending evil mythical creature ride.  

Writer and director Alex Scharfman uses his crucial opening 5 minutes with brilliant efficiency. In the beginning, we have only Elliot (Paul Rudd) and his daughter Ridley (Jenna Ortega) stuck on an airplane waiting on a litany of maintenance issues to be resolved. Without words, the pair clearly have a trust, but Elliot has his priorities set on his paperwork. Without having to open their mouths and spoon-feed the audience, we understand the context. Ridley is in her late teens, as made evident by her acne and the vape up her sleeve, hidden from her dad. Elliot is a workaholic who prioritizes his family’s future over its present and gets lost in the “big picture” of it all. That’s 44 words of character description on display from only a handful of shots. If you’re ever teaching a film class, as I do, and want to show good directing, turn on the opening scene from “Death of a Unicorn.” The kids will get a kick out of it, and they’ll learn something. Plus, they’ll all relate to hiding a vape up their sleeve. 

Following that, we are thrust into a quick call to action, where Elliot plows through the titular baby unicorn wandering into the street. The design on the little horned fellow is extraordinarily well done. Unique-looking and adorable, we are deeply attached to the creature from the first time we lock eyes on him. It is this attachment that softens us up. We are cheering for them to live, and when the wealthy and evil Leopald patriarch Odell (Richard E. Grant) has himself a unicorn ribeye “medium-rare,” it’s not a laugh line; it’s heartbreaking. 

The horror-comedy has plenty of laughs throughout, particularly when Will Poulter is the man behind the line. Playing the spoiled, want-to-be executive with daddy issues, even throwaway quips are rendered hysterical. I can’t remember the last time I laughed that loud in a theater, let alone burst out that many times from the same character. It was constant, and it never boiled over into a harmless froth; instead it cooked the character to its proper climax. The comedy never overtakes the character either — something like the way Brad Pitt gets too funny in “War Machine” and loses the General McMahon character’s core. Poulter is always in the pocket of his character, Shep, and the comedy becomes almost accidental as a result of the absurdness. Even the way he walks fits the character and makes me giggle. Sitting at home right now writing, I’m getting a snicker on my face thinking about it. He also smokes unicorn-horn dust out of a pipe before getting around to snorting it, which is a drug I’m sure will be hitting Cloud Nine soon. 

When the movie is ready to embrace the gore, it makes the switch to horror with smart subtlety. As Momma and Poppa Unicorn come hunting around for Baby Unicorn’s carcass that’s laid up in the Leopald mansion, Scharfman holds off on revealing the beasts in their entirety. By holding off, that mystery re-establishes the fear inside us needed for the second-half horror turn. The audience has been laughing for 45 minutes; it needs to be taught to take the second half seriously. Coupled with these new monstrous unicorns is some crass unicorn-on-human violence. After squirming in your seat with laughter, you’re cringing at the grossness. 

It isn’t a perfect movie, but it’s about as good as a movie titled “Death of a Unicorn” can be. For my final film reference of the column, I’ll remind everybody of the inscrutable “Cocaine Bear” from a couple years back: A catchy title that’s inherently silly maximizing its premise. Also, did you know that almost every society throughout ancient history has had recordings of dragons, unicorns, or both? I’m not saying they’re real right now, but maybe at some point, there was a horse with a horn running around out there. 

Critic Score: 8.3 out of 10

Jack Simon is a mogul coach and writer/director who enjoys eating food he can’t afford, traveling to places out of his budget, and creating art about skiing, eating, and traveling while broke. Check out his website jacksimonmakes.com to see his Jack’s Jitney travelogue series. You can email him at jackdocsimon@gmail.com for inquiries of any type.