Words by JANE CROWTHER
The question of whether a mythical horse beast with a forehead protuberance shifts its mortal coil is answered fast in this debut satire from writer-director, Alex Scharfman. Within minutes of uptight attorney Elliot (Paul Rudd) and his emo teen daughter Ridley (Jenna Ortega) touching down in the Canadian wilderness, they have mowed down the titular equine in their hire car as they fractiously drive to the remote home of his obscenely rich, terminally-ill boss (Richard E. Grant), Odell Leopold.
A make or break weekend for Elliot who wants to earn the trust of the pharma-wealthy Leopold family in order to make big bucks as their proxy lawyer, he insists on continuing with the trip by shoving the unfortunate road kill in the trunk and begging his reeling daughter to act normal. She’s obviously not going to toe the line because she wears smudged eyeliner and declares that ‘philanthropy is just reputational laundering’. But when the unicorn’s horn and blood prove to have transformative healing powers, a moral and physical battle commences – not least because the beast’s magical clan want revenge…
Though the themes are familiar and broad (wealthy people are awful, big pharma is ruthless, healthcare is ringfenced for the rich), the cast elevate proceedings with committed performances. Grant is reliably gonzo as a wildlife-hunting British toff with a safari-chic sartorial bent, Téa Leoni serves odious wealthy wife that fans of Parker Posey’s White Lotus turn will relish, while Will Poulter essays ‘moneyed doofus’ with aplomb, an entitled twit with delusions of grandeur who thinks short shorts and hot tubs are the answer to everything.
While they do the gags, Rudd and Ortega explore the emotion amid the carnage as ferocious, pointy-headed ponies savage staff – hoof-popping skulls, disemboweling with fangs and goring with horns. As the savagery amps up and night turns to dawn, Death Of A Unicorn becomes a meditation on death and grief as Ridley and Elliot work through their trauma from losing their mother/wife to cancer. And there’s an 11th hour moment that plays as truly dark and beautiful, shifting gear momentarily from an extended Black Mirror episode to something trotting on the edge of profound. At the centre though, Ortega shines – as lead and producer – the human heart in a cruel world.
Words by JANE CROWTHER
Photographs by BALAZS GOLDI/MONOCEROS MEDIA LLC
Death of a Unicorn is out now
