Beyond the Gore: Why ‘Death of a Unicorn’ Is More Than Just a Messy Monster Movie

• 5 Surprising Truths About A24’s Divisive Killer Unicorn Movie
• How an Unlikable Hero and Bad CGI Made ‘Death of a Unicorn’ So Fascinating
• Beyond the Gore: Why ‘Death of a Unicorn’ Is More Than Just a Messy Monster Movie

There are perfect films, and then there are interesting ones. A24’s Death of a Unicorn falls squarely, and bloodily, into the second category. On paper, the premise is a glorious fever dream: A-list stars Paul Rudd and Jenna Ortega in a gory horror-comedy about killer unicorns. It promises a bizarre blend of creature-feature horror, dark comedy, and razor-sharp social commentary.

Unsurprisingly, the film has generated a wildly polarized response. Labeled everything from “awful dross” to “campy fun,” its reception is a statistical stalemate: a Metacritic score of 51 indicating “mixed or average” reviews and a CinemaScore of “B–” from audiences. It’s a film that people either love, hate, or are simply baffled by.

But to dismiss it as a mere success or failure is to miss the point. The conversations swirling around Death of a Unicorn reveal a far more compelling story about a film whose identity is forged in its imperfections. Its messiness, its tonal chaos, and its baffling creative choices are precisely what make it one of the most fascinating cultural objects of the year.

1. The Real Stars Aren’t Who You’d Expect

Marketed on the considerable star power of Paul Rudd and Jenna Ortega, the film’s biggest surprise for many viewers was that the most memorable performances came from the supporting cast. Despite having less screen time, Will Poulter and Anthony Carrigan are consistently singled out for stealing every scene they’re in.

Poulter, praised as “the best of the cast,” is a highlight as the spoiled, nihilistic heir Shepard Leopold, whose experiments with snorting unicorn horn dust provide some of the film’s darkest laughs. But it’s Anthony Carrigan, as the long-suffering head of staff Griff, who became an audience favorite. Though deemed “totally underutilized,” his deadpan delivery and stoic facial expressions prompted one viewer to exclaim, “I fucking died at everything Griff did and said the entire movie, just subtle hilarious shit.” Fans of his work as NoHo Hank in Barry were thrilled, rooting for him to survive the carnage and celebrating his perfectly timed line that had viewers howling: “This is not the best use of time.”

This overwhelming praise for the supporting cast only amplified the audience’s frustration with the film’s leads. One reviewer opined that Jenna Ortega “doesn’t have the ability to elevate sub-par material,” while many found Paul Rudd’s character to be a frustrating “asshole,” a far cry from his typically charming roles.

2. It’s a ‘Jurassic Park’ Satire in Disguise

While many expected a straightforward monster movie, a more insightful comparison quickly emerged: Death of a Unicorn is a direct, satirical homage to Jurassic Park. This observation recasts the film from a simple horror-comedy into a conscious parody of the ultimate creature-feature about corporate greed.

One critic explicitly noted that “the film’s structure and theme—the wealthy trying to monetize a dangerous, rediscovered creature and paying the ultimate price—is a deliberate nod to Michael Crichton’s Jurassic Park.” The homage isn’t just thematic; it’s baked into the film’s aesthetic, with a musical score that is “clearly trying to imitate John Williams’ work on Jurassic Park.” This elevates the connection from a simple parallel to a multi-faceted tribute. As one Reddit user bluntly summarized, “Remember that part in ‘Jurassic Park: Lost World’, where the T-Rexes show up to kill everyone and get their baby? This is that, but with unicorns.” This framing is key to understanding the movie’s “eat the rich” satire, which uses a familiar template to swap genetic engineering for mythical magic, proving that the disastrous consequences of unchecked capitalism are timeless.

3. The “Hero” Is Surprisingly Hard to Root For

Perhaps the film’s most alienating and fascinating choice is its protagonist. Despite being played by the famously likable Paul Rudd, the central character, Elliot Kintner, is a deeply unsympathetic corporate shill. Reviewers didn’t mince words, with one confessing that for “most of the movie I was praying for his bloody comeuppance” and another stating, “you find yourself getting annoyed with him immediately.”

This subversion of audience expectation—casting a beloved actor known for his charm as a morally weak and often detestable man—denied viewers an easy emotional anchor. The frustration was perfectly captured by one Reddit user who delivered what might be the single most devastating critique of the film’s characterization: “When you are making me root for Paul Rudd to die, and that wasn’t even your apparent intention, I think something went wrong.” This creative choice forces the audience into a conflicted state, making the film’s emotional core feel frustrating for those expecting a conventional hero to guide them through the chaos.

4. The “Bad” CGI Is a Feature, Not a Bug

In an era of hyper-polished blockbusters, flawed special effects are typically seen as a sign of failure. Many reviews of Death of a Unicorn noted its visual weaknesses, using terms like “noticeably mediocre,” “shoddy CGI,” and “shockingly janky for an A24 picture.” Yet, for a vocal contingent of viewers, the shoddy effects aren’t a flaw; they’re a feature—a deliberate or accidental nod to a bygone era of B-movie horror.

One critic reframed the “mixed bag” of effects as a core part of its appeal, arguing they give the movie a “fun, late-80s horror vibe” and a “charming B-movie technicality.” This perspective realigns the CGI not as a failure but as an aesthetic that connects the film to a different tradition of genre filmmaking. This is bolstered by the film’s practical effects, which many viewers found more tangible and satisfyingly gruesome in the “gory kill scenes.” The result is a distinct visual style that separates it from slickly produced competitors and enhances its cult-classic potential.

5. A Tonal Mess… Or Is It?

Ultimately, all of these divisive elements—the overshadowed leads, the unlikable hero, the B-movie effects—are symptoms of the film’s most defining quality: its chaotic, genre-bending tone. Described as a “dark fantasy comedy horror” and an “absurdly fun and gloriously gory” ride, the movie refuses to be just one thing.

For many, this tonal whiplash was jarring. One critic claimed the film “tries to be too many things at once: a creature feature, a horror flick, a dark comedy, and a serious drama. It succeeds at none of them completely.” This is amplified by a noticeable “tone shift about halfway through, turning from black comedy to more full-on horror.” But this very inconsistency is central to the film’s identity. The unlikable hero makes perfect sense in a bitter satire. The janky CGI feels right at home in a B-movie creature feature. The whiplash between comedy and horror is what makes it a polarizing cult object—a “so bad, it’s good” movie for some, and an “incredibly boring film” for others.

A Gloriously Messy Ride

In the end, Death of a Unicorn is a messy, ambitious, and deeply divisive film that has sparked far more interesting conversations than a straightforward hit ever could. Its failures are as fascinating as its successes, creating a cinematic experience where the charm lies in the very imperfections that drive others away—the scene-stealing supporting cast, the nostalgic B-movie effects, the hero you love to hate, and the chaotic tone that defies easy categorization.

It is a movie that is so much more than the sum of its strange and often-clashing parts. It’s a testament to the idea that a film doesn’t have to be perfect to be memorable. In an era of perfectly polished cinematic universes, is there still a place for a wild, flawed, and utterly bizarre film that dares to be a little bit of everything at once?