The SXSW Film Festival has always been a haven for bold movies and unexpected storytelling, and Death of a Unicorn is exactly the kind of film that thrives in this environment. A24’s reputation for delivering visually distinct, offbeat, and artfully bizarre films continues with Alex Scharfman’s directorial debut, offering a wildly entertaining, darkly comedic fever dream tailor-made for an excited SXSW audience.
The film follows Elliot (Paul Rudd) and his daughter, Ridley (Jenna Ortega), who while driving to a mega-wealthy pharmaceutical CEO’s secluded estate in the mountains, accidentally run over a unicorn. What should be an outrageous, one-off event quickly spirals into an all-out nightmare when the ruthless family, led by the coldly calculating executive played by Téa Leoni and Richard E. Grant, seizes the opportunity to exploit the creature for its supposed mystical healing abilities. The weekend quickly shifts into a biting satire on corporate greed, privilege, and scientific ethics.
Rudd, as always, is effortlessly charming, grounding the absurdity with his everyman presence who’s trying to connect with his daughter, while Ortega continues to prove she’s one of the most exciting young actors working today. Her deadpan wit and emotional depth brings Ridley to life, making her the perfect foil to the film’s growing madness. Will Poulter steals the show, portraying an insufferable, obnoxious son to Richard E. Grant, desperate to prove more than his value to his family. He obviously had a blast with this role, delivering some of the film’s biggest laughs and cringest comments as his character spirals into a full-blown, coked-up meltdown snorting “unicorn horn dust” and completely losing his grip on reality in a way that’s as disturbing as it is hilarious.
Leoni shines as the quirky corporate mother orchestrating the exploitation of the unicorn’s mystical powers, focusing on pharmaceutical ruthlessness with a level of moderate, and lucid lunacy. Richard E. Grant brings his signature aristocratic charm as the wealthy family’s father, effortlessly elevating every scene he’s in, while Anthony Carrigan is an unexpected comedic gem as Griff, the family’s eerily composed, and seemingly reluctant butler. His deadpan delivery and unwavering dedication to decorum amidst the escalating chaos, steals multiple scenes, adding another layer of absurdity to an already deranged story.
Visually, Death of a Unicorn is peak A24, blending dreamlike cinematography with moments of grotesque horror and dark comedy. Scharfman leans into the surreal nature of the story, crafting a film that feels like The Menu meets Scream, with a dash of American Psycho‘s satirical edge. The unicorn itself—treated as both a mythic creature and a disturbing raging beast hellbent on revenge, as it becomes a symbol for the film’s razor-sharp commentary on exploitation and greed.
While Death of a Unicorn doesn’t quite have the haunting depth and the multiversal spectacle of Everything Everywhere All at Once, it’s an absolute blast. The film knows exactly wants to be – darkly funny with its relentless energy, absurd kills, and pitch-black humor served in an “eat the rich” style platter.