Over the past few years, there has been a steady rise in class satire films: "The Menu," "Saltburn" and “Glass Onion," just to name a few. Putting aside what troubling and urgent societal issues this trend could be downstream of, they've already overstayed their welcome. I'm tired of their unfunny dark humor, trite characters and limp political commentary. But it seems like they're not going away anytime soon, for another one just rolled into theaters: "Death of a Unicorn."
"Death of a Unicorn," the directorial debut from Alex Scharfman, is a creature-thriller twist on the class satire genre. The story revolves around Elliot (Paul Rudd) taking his teenage daughter Ripley (Jenna Ortega) to a work retreat with his boss Odell Leopold (Richard E. Grant) and his family at their luxurious, remote mansion. While driving, they accidentally hit a real unicorn. Unsure of what to do with the injured creature, they put it in the trunk and bring it to Leopold's house. When everyone there realizes the unicorn's body has supernatural healing powers, what ensues are mystical hijinks, power struggles and financial opportunism.
The film frustratingly falls into the classic shortcoming of the genre: flat characters. The central duo of Elliot and Ripley is painfully cliche: the bumbling, single dad and jaded teenage daughter. The script barely puts effort into adding unique traits or edges to these archetypes. And the performances are not doing any favors: Ortega is doing her typical schtick, which is ultimately serviceable, but Rudd really flails. He feels lost throughout the film, unsure how to portray his character's moral shortcomings and ambivalence towards his daughter's disdain for the Leopolds. The film's highlight is Will Poulter as Shepard Leopold, Odell's son. He carries the film's humor on his back and gives the most dynamic performance out of the ensemble.
For most of the film, the titular conflict feels thin and unimaginative. It plays out largely how you expect it, but that's also because one of the primary plot devices is a medieval tapestry that predicts how everything escalates. However, some interesting developments here and there keep things interesting. The kills are gruesome, and it's amusing to see how desperate and deranged the Leopolds are to salvage the financial opportunity at stake despite nature increasingly pushing back against their schemes. Here, the genre's signature themes crystallize: the vanity and cruelty of the upper class and their exploitation of the working class and environment. Is it accurate? Sure. Well-executed? Decently enough. Is it novel or exciting? Not really.
Actually, there is one interesting germ of an idea the film has about class and wealth, and it presents itself during the film's surprisingly poignant ending. Here, Rudd finally locks in and delivers an emotional monologue where he admits that despite claiming that he was sucking up to the Leopolds and their money so that Ripley could have a comfortable life, he was only doing it to for his own benefit. It's a raw moment that incisively identifies that many parents use their family's financial security as a pretext for greed and careerism. The subsequent emotional reconciliation between father and daughter is touching, and you almost forget that they felt like walking cardboard cutouts for the previous 90 minutes.
So, does "The Death of a Unicorn" reaffirm the validity of the class satire? Eh. It's a decently fun time and will provide enough laughs and gore to keep you entertained. But it proves the genre, as it is currently operating, has nothing interesting left to say about the issues it so smugly signals at.
