At The Cloisters in New York, an exhilarating array of seven tapestries, perpetually displayed, captivates viewers with their intricate and vivid depiction of a unicorn's tragic tale: hunted relentlessly by mankind and subsequently tamed by a virgin. This series has sparked extensive academic discourse, with historians engaging in debates about its meaning for numerous decades. Early interpretations suggested metaphors for marriage and fertility, whereas later, more enduring theories saw them as allegories for Christ.
In his directorial debut, "Death of a Unicorn," Alex Scharfman, a producer known for his work on "House of Spoils" and "Resurrection," envisions a realm where these enchanting creatures are authentic, and the tapestries serve as eerie warnings. The forthcoming A24 release, which premiered at SXSW, boasts an impressive cast, featuring Paul Rudd and Jenna Ortega as a father-daughter duo thrust into an extraordinary predicament. On their journey to a pivotal business meeting with a pharmaceutical billionaire, Elliot (Rudd), a timid compliance lawyer plagued by severe allergies, and his college-aged daughter Ridley (Ortega) inadvertently collide with a unicorn. A standard wildlife accident would undoubtedly be traumatic, but encountering a mythical beast elevates the disturbance to a new level. As they exit their SUV to assess the damage, Ridley experiences a spiritual bond with the creature (portrayed in a whimsical, psychedelic sequence), while Elliot, in a fit of fear, savagely strikes it repeatedly in the head.
With this harrowing opening sequence, Scharfman, who both directed and penned the screenplay, establishes "Death of a Unicorn" as both an absurdist horror and a familiar yet poignant social satire. Elliot has coerced Ridley into accompanying him for a weekend with Odell, a dying tycoon (played by Richard E. Grant in a role reminiscent of his performance in "Saltburn") who is poised to appoint a proxy for his company's board. The mechanics of this arrangement need not be overanalyzed. Elliot, a diligent worker despite mourning the loss of his wife, strikes Odell as the ideal candidate. Hence, the CEO invites him to spend a few days with his family at their expansive estate. He aims to get to know Elliot and, ultimately, test his loyalties.
In the midst of the thriving eat-the-rich social satire genre, audiences are well-versed in the implications of this premise: trouble lies ahead. Upon their arrival, Elliot and Ridley encounter Odell's philanthropic wife Belinda (Téa Leoni) and his rebellious son Shephard (Will Poulter), along with a staff comprising a stoic bodyguard (Jessica Hynes) and an overworked butler (Anthony Carrigan, who steals every scene he's in).
The narrative's principal thrust commences when Odell's family, upon uncovering the unicorn's miraculous healing properties, hastily devises schemes to capitalize on this discovery. They beckon the corporation's foremost researchers, Sunita Mani and Stephen Park, to their abode, enlisting all present in their exploitative endeavor. Ridley, revealed to be an art history major, harbors doubts and embarks on a solo quest for truth, her findings foreshadowing a harrowing destiny.
With its daring and unconventional premise, "Death of a Unicorn" storms onto the scene with considerable vigor. However, it swiftly becomes evident that the tale's trajectory is somewhat limited. Scharfman adheres to the tried-and-true formula employed by other films in this genre, such as "The Menu" and "Triangle of Sadness." Thus, while it is replete with absurd and striking sequences, the plot itself unfolds as expected. A chance to introduce a fresh perspective arises when Ridley delves into the lore of the seven tapestries, yet Scharfman breezes past this opportunity, forsaking the chance to explore unicorn mythology further. This omitted lore would have enriched the narrative, particularly as this eclectic, socio-economically diverse ensemble finds itself grappling with more of these mythical equines.
Scharfman orchestrates captivating scenes featuring the CGI-rendered creatures, reimagining them as lethal entities and reveling in the myriad ways these regenerative beings can meet their demise. Nevertheless, the internal consistency of their behavior poses challenges, hindering full immersion in the fantastical elements. The stakes seem diminished when the unicorns' abilities fluctuate merely to suit the plot's convenience.
The exceptional ensemble cast assembled by Scharfman breathes life into "Death of a Unicorn." Grant, Leoni, and Poulter expertly portray one-percenters who cloak their cruelty in exaggerated displays of generosity. Their interactions with their butler Griff, played by Barry Carrigan, weave an especially amusing subplot, allowing him to enhance a relatively underdeveloped role through nuanced physical comedy and impeccable timing.
Rudd and Ortega infuse Scharfman's film with a subtle sweetness. Their relationship, initially fractured by grief, evolves meaningfully throughout this unlikely adventure. Together, they emanate a credible chemistry as father and daughter, lending poignant emotional depth to a pivotal penultimate scene.
It is within the confines of their bond that "Death of a Unicorn" finds its rhythm and offers a fresh spin on a well-trodden tale. Prior to their encounter with the unicorn, Elliot and Ridley grapple with the rugged terrain of their sorrow. Their conversations are awkward and disjointed, punctuated by the abrupt force of an untimely demise. Even when in each other's presence, they operate on disparate planes. Though this journey does not necessarily mend their wounds, it does facilitate a clearer vision of one another.
