Death of a Unicorn (2025)

Release Date: Marchl 28, 2025
Director: Alex Scharfman
Starring: Jenna Ortega, Paul Rudd, Richard E. Grant, Téa Leoni, Will Poulter, Anthony Carrigan

I’ve been seeing trailers for Death of a Unicorn for a while now—just enough times to think, “Well, that looks... weird.” But with movies coming thick and fast lately, I figured I’d better double up on cinema trips this week and check this one off the list. Jenna Ortega and Paul Rudd were enough to get me in the seat, even if the premise looked a bit bonkers. And let’s be honest—A24 has been pumping out some truly bizarre stuff lately. After The Monkey, I wasn’t sure they could top themselves in the “what am I watching?” department. Oh, how wrong I was.

The Plot: Roadkill Becomes Corporate Goldmine (And Chaos Ensues)

The movie kicks off with Paul Rudd as Elliot Kintner, a corporate consultant and all-around company man, taking his daughter Ridley (Jenna Ortega) on a drive to a weekend retreat. Father-daughter bonding time, right? Wrong. They hit a unicorn. Literally. A mythical, rainbow-free, fully horned unicorn.

Rather than spiraling into grief or existential horror like normal people might, Elliot quickly realizes the unicorn’s blood has strange, possibly profitable properties. Enter his boss, Odell Leopold (Richard E. Grant), who’s the kind of villain that would eat a rare animal just to say he did. With dollar signs in their eyes and morality flying out the window, the unicorn is secretly transported to a high-tech facility where its magical abilities—namely, raising the dead—become the center of a mad-scientist-meets-Wall-Street scheme.

Naturally, things go south. There’s backstabbing, corporate greed, unholy resurrection experiments, and even more unicorn gore than anyone asked for. And somewhere in the middle of it all, Ridley is trying to be the voice of reason in a world that’s gone full glitter-soaked madness.

The Cast: Ortega Holds It Down, Rudd Plays It Safe

Jenna Ortega is probably the best part of this whole thing. She brings that dry wit and deadpan delivery she’s become known for, and it works here. Her character actually feels like the only person reacting somewhat reasonably to the insanity around her. Plus, she handles the dramatic moments with subtlety—even when she’s literally knee-deep in unicorn entrails.

Now, Paul Rudd... Look, I like Paul Rudd. Who doesn’t? But let’s call it: he’s playing the same guy again. The affable, slightly bumbling dad with a punchline for everything. It works, sure, but it’s very familiar. Honestly, I’d love to see him try something wildly out of character next time. Serial killer? Cult leader? Anything other than the “funny guy next door with a secret” routine. He’s got the range—we just never get to see it.

The supporting cast is stacked and surprisingly recognizable: Richard E. Grant leans into his villain role like he’s auditioning for the next Bond film, Anthony Carrigan is weirdly compelling as a unicorn-researching madman, and Will Poulter adds some chaotic flair to the whole operation. They’re all solid—it’s not the acting that drags this one down.

The Vibe: A24 Does Gorecore Fairy Tale

A24 seems to have leaned into a niche lately: surreal, violent, and often oddly silly horror-adjacent stories. This one’s no exception. Death of a Unicorn is glossy, well-shot, and unapologetically strange. The cinematography is genuinely good—there are moments that feel like high art stuck inside a fever dream. But it’s also messy in tone.

It wants to be funny and shocking and tragic all at once, but the balance isn’t quite there. One moment you’re watching a unicorn autopsy that’s played for laughs, the next a resurrection scene that’s supposed to be heart-wrenching. It never quite picks a lane.

And let’s talk about the gore. This film is so gory. Way more than I expected—even after The Monkey, which was already pushing boundaries. Here, we’ve got entrails, dismemberments, and magical blood oozing everywhere. A unicorn with life-giving powers should be kind of mystical. Instead, it’s a meat grinder with hooves. If you’re squeamish, maybe give this one a pass.

The Ending: More Glitter, Less Substance

Without giving too much away, the ending tries to be both a moral reckoning and a grand, emotional finale—but it doesn’t quite stick the landing. There’s a sense that the filmmakers wanted us to feel something profound about death, greed, or the abuse of nature. But after 90 minutes of weird science and sparkly violence, the message feels a little drowned out by the spectacle.

It’s not bad. It’s just kind of empty. Visually stunning, yes. Deeply affecting? Not so much.

Public Feedback: Divided Down the Middle (Naturally)

Critics and audiences are split on this one. Rotten Tomatoes has it sitting around the 50–60% mark, and that feels about right. Some people love the originality and embrace the absurdity, calling it “a dark fairy tale for late-stage capitalism.” Others—myself included—think it’s more style than substance.

There’s been no major controversy, aside from viewers asking, “Who at A24 is greenlighting these scripts?” Which, honestly, is a fair question. Between this and The Monkey, it feels like the studio is running a bizarre little experiment to see just how weird movies can get before audiences revolt.

Final Thoughts: Visually Cool, Emotionally Hollow, Utterly Bonkers

So, would I watch Death of a Unicorn again? Absolutely not. Was it worth seeing once? Kind of—if only for the sheer absurdity. It’s like watching someone spend millions of dollars to turn a Tumblr post into a horror-fantasy film. Points for originality, and the cast is strong, but there’s not much depth here. The movie knows it’s ridiculous, and leans into it, but at a certain point, all the gore and satire just start to feel like noise.

That said, I’ll give it a generous 4 out of 10. Why generous? Because the cast showed up, the cinematography was genuinely impressive, and I respect the swing—even if it didn’t quite connect.

Final Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐(4/10)

It’s like seeing a unicorn for the first time—and then immediately regretting it. You’ll remember it... but probably wish you didn’t.