Death of a Unicorn (15) |Close-Up Film Review

A24 has carved out its niche as a home for the strange, stylish, and genre-defying—and Death of a Unicorn is no exception.

The feature debut of writer-director Alex Scharfman, this comedy-horror hybrid takes a wonderfully bizarre concept and runs wild with it—sometimes nailing its stride, other times stumbling under its own eccentric weight.

The film stars Paul Rudd and Jenna Ortega as Elliot and Ridley Kintner, a father-daughter duo heading to a corporate retreat hosted by Elliot’s ruthless boss, Odell Leopold (Richard E. Grant). Things take a sharp detour into the surreal when they accidentally run over a unicorn. Not just any magical creature, but one whose remains possess miraculous healing powers. Naturally, Odell sees a lucrative opportunity, setting off a chain reaction of greed, cover-ups, and corporate madness. But in their rush to monetise the miracle, they overlook one rather important detail: unicorns don’t travel alone. And the grieving, vengeful parents of the fallen creature are closing in.

It’s the kind of premise that sounds destined for cult status—and the film leans hard into that potential. Rudd is effortlessly charming as the increasingly overwhelmed Elliot, grounding the chaos with his signature deadpan wit. Ortega balances angst and heart with a sincerity that cuts through the absurdity. Richard E. Grant, meanwhile, devours every line with devilish glee, perfectly cast as the corporate villain. But it’s Will Poulter who quietly steals the show, delivering a deliciously sleazy turn as Odell’s calculating son, Shepard.

Visually, the film benefits from the lens of Larry Fong (Watchmen, Kong: Skull Island), who brings a cinematic richness to even the most outlandish moments. The unicorns themselves are striking—equal parts majestic and menacing—contributing to the film’s off-kilter tone. And that tone is both its biggest strength and its Achilles’ heel.

Schrafman juggles horror, satire, and surreal comedy with ambition, but the tonal balance isn’t always smooth. The first act builds intrigue with wit and style, but the middle stretches thin, dragging its hooves slightly before rallying for a gory, bizarre finale. Some moments land with absurd brilliance, while others feel laboured or self-indulgent.

Still, Death of a Unicorn is anything but forgettable. It might not quite reach the sharpness of its concept, but it commits fully to the weirdness and delivers enough genre-bending flair to warrant a watch—particularly for fans of A24’s more experimental offerings. It’s funny, gruesome, and unapologetically strange, with something sly to say about exploitation and the price of so-called progress.

Is it perfect? No. But in a cinema landscape that often plays it safe, it’s refreshing to see a film that dares to veer off the rails. Just be warned: if you thought unicorns were symbols of innocence and purity, this film might have you thinking twice