Death of a Unicorn frustrated me to no end. It’s the latest in a growing list of 2025 films with a cool premise and utterly lifeless execution—this year is full of them! From Love Hurts to Companion to A24’s own Opus, we’re seeing a trend of underbaked ideas masquerading as bold cinema. This is one of those movies where the lack of effort becomes the defining trait. The script, the performances, the direction—everything feels like a rough draft of a better idea someone else already made. And while it might pass as disposable entertainment for some, it’s arguably more harmful to the future of cinema than the ultra-expensive MCU entries or Netflix algorithm dumps. Because if this is what convinces someone to buy a ticket, only to walk out having felt nothing, thought nothing, and barely enjoyed themselves—why would they return?
The setup plays like a standard “eat the rich” satire: a father and daughter—Elliot (Paul Rudd) and Ridley (Jenna Ortega)—hit a unicorn while driving to Elliot’s boss’s remote estate. Turns out, the unicorn’s blood and horn have healing powers, and soon the ultra-wealthy family sees a chance to profit. Meanwhile, Ridley is the only one who grasps the obvious: maybe we should leave the unicorns alone—especially when more of them start showing up, drawn by the injured one.
On paper, there’s real potential here. The “eat the rich” theme has become familiar in recent years (Succession, The White Lotus, Triangle of Sadness), but it’s a subgenre I still enjoy when done right—The White Lotus Season 3 is, for me, the best thing on TV right now. Unicorns are also a surprisingly underused mythological figure in modern cinema, and they carry a built-in mysticism that could’ve been turned into compelling metaphor. Add to that a cast like Ortega, Rudd, Will Poulter, and Téa Leoni, and this could have worked. Instead, it almost feels like the film is purposely trying to waste every opportunity it gets.
The dialogue constantly feels like placeholder text someone forgot to rewrite, and combined with flat direction, character interactions often come off as awkward or stilted. Even worse, we’re watching supposedly intelligent people—doctors, CEOs—make bafflingly stupid choices. The emotional arcs don’t fare much better: the strained father-daughter relationship feels tired and undercooked, while Ridley’s moral compass reads more as self-righteous posturing than real conviction.
The satire is paper-thin: the rich are bad because they want to get richer, they speak in overly formal lingo, and they bark orders at staff. That’s about as deep as the film gets thematically. You walk away with nothing—no insight, no emotional resonance, no memorable moments.
And then, as teased in the trailer, the film morphs into a unicorn monster movie. So maybe it redeems itself as a spectacle, right? At least once it kicks in halfway through? Unfortunately, no. The action sequences are uninspired, clearly borrowing heavily from Jurassic World (which itself was already derivative), and they land with zero tension. A unicorn chase ends when someone closes a flimsy wooden gate. Characters don’t scream, don’t react properly, and the scenes lack any sense of danger or urgency. It’s poorly staged, lazily directed, and overly reliant on shock gore—as if gruesome imagery alone is enough to justify the spectacle. (Love Hurts and Companion made the same mistake.)
Performance-wise, some actors are clearly trying harder than others. But most of the character work feels recycled. Paul Rudd might as well be playing Ant-Man again. Jenna Ortega is running through the same motions she used in Wednesday. Richard E. Grant feels like a leftover version of his Saltburn role. Only Téa Leoni (great to see her again) and the reliably funny Will Poulter manage to bring any spark—but even Poulter is stuck in a one-note role that quickly becomes repetitive.
Aside from the vaguely striking image of a purple unicorn steak, I doubt I’ll remember anything from Death of a Unicorn a week from now. It wastes a promising idea on a film that’s neither entertaining nor thought-provoking, and ends up as a two-hour slab of cinematic nothingness. Honestly? The unicorns should have chased the filmmakers instead.