The blood in “Death of a Unicorn” comes in two colors: the familiar shades of red for humans and a deep purple for the mythological creature of the title. Writer and director Alex Sharfman’s splurchy dark comedy carves itself into halves, a clever first half followed by a more routine second one. Yet it’s a feature film debut signaling a filmmaker of actual wit. So you go with it — I did, anyway, most of it, more or less — even when its sense of tone and direction goes sideways.
This is social satire plus cautionary parenting tale plus monster movie, which is quite a lot. Corporate lawyer Elliot, played by Paul Rudd, and his daughter Ridley, played by Jenna Ortega, have flown to a remote corner of the Canadian Rockies (played by Hungary, where the film was shot) for a working retreat hosted by the pharmaceutical billionaires for whom Elliot works. En route, in their rental car, a distracted, multitasking Elliot drives headlong into an animal crossing the road.
It’s a unicorn, and it’s alive, and Elliot takes a tire iron and kills it, shoves in the car, and continues on, disheveled and slightly blood-spattered, as is Ridley. Soon enough, they learn the horned miracle is not dead. Its magical regenerative properties and golden, glowing horn signifies something amazing is afoot. And once the dying CEO (Richard E. Grant), his blithely callous wife (Téa Leoni) and their slovenly La-Z- Boy of a son (Will Poulter) realize the potential billions to be made from unicorn-based medicine patents, “Death of a Unicorn” pits humans against beasts, with the injured-presumed-dead creature’s larger, angry parents ready for payback.
From “The Menu” to “Knives Out” to the current “Opus,” we’ve seen more than a few eat-the-rich allegories in the last few years. Scharfman’s is buoyed by the comic wiles of its key players. Which brings us to Leoni, although too few movies have brought to us to Leoni lately.
It’s the highest compliment to say Leoni has the throwaway flair, the verbal invention and the comic timing of the great stars associated with peak Hollywood screwball and high comedy. She’s Jean Arthur/Carole Lombard-level good.
Scharfman underuses her a little, which is too bad. Most of Leoni’s best moments happen very nearly under her breath. Her confusion about the family’s latest philanthropic venture, for example (she’s fuzzy on whether the refugees she’s helping to save are getting evacuated or vaccinated), or the way she casually gestures with a few twirls her wrist, as if on a Maggie Smith-sponsored internship — these small flourishes add so much.
Everyone’s good in the movie, and Rudd and Ortega anchor it. Their characters are still reeling from the death of Elliot’s wife, and Ridley’s mother, which gives the actors plenty to play underneath the escalating panic. Just past the midpoint, “Death of a Unicorn” settles in for a series of bombastic suspense sequences, capped inevitably by an impaling or a de-entrailing. It’s more than a lurch into action/horror/gore yuks territory; it’s a different movie.
At this point, Scharfman is a better writer than director. But this is only his first directorial feature. He’s full of ideas. The selectivity will come in time.
“Death of a Unicorn” — 2.5 stars (out of 4)
MPA rating: R (for strong violent content, gore, language and some drug use)
Running time: 1:47
How to watch: Premieres in theaters March 28
Michael Phillips is a Tribune critic.
