Growing up, sparkly unicorn posters covered my bedroom walls, and “Friday the 13th” movies were on a permanent rerun in my house. Combine that with my love for comedy and Jenna Ortega, and I consider myself the perfect audience for “Death of a Unicorn.” Sadly, the film didn’t quite live up to that fantasy.

From the start, it’s clear the movie aims to follow in the footsteps of A24’s other successes, blending sharp social commentary with gruesome horror, which only makes its shortcomings all the more noticeable. Still, it’s not without brief flashes of the studio’s usual allure.

The cast is undeniably talented. Paul Rudd and Jenna Ortega bring the energy you’d expect, and Will Poulter delivers the morally ambiguous, comedic relief type he thrives in. Early in the film, there are fleeting moments when the charming bizarreness of the plot lands perfectly: the family’s reactions to the unicorn’s death, the Leopolds’ callous eccentricity poorly disguised as compassion, and visual effects that made me wish I’d been able to see the movie in theaters.

Compared to the rest of the film, though, those moments are brief. Characters quickly flatten into vague pantomimes of their roles—‘Rebellious Daughter’ or ‘Heartless Rich Man’—with little chance for depth or development. Rudd’s character rarely strays from predictable reactions, and Ortega is mainly limited to being the lone voice of reason. Their relationship, which should have been the film’s emotional anchor, feels rushed and underthought. And so, key moments that might have delivered genuine impact had these characters been explored more left me feeling hollow instead.

For similar reasons, the film’s social commentary suffers as a result. The death of the unicorn offers a critique of human greed and exploitation on a silver platter, but the satire often feels shallow. While there are moments of wittiness found in occasional jabs at the one percent and absurdity of the American healthcare system, it feels like wit for wit’s sake, with no actual attempt at a satisfying critique. Overall, the characters feel like placeholders for jokes or plot points rather than actual people, and the story’s larger themes of greed, mortality, and absurdity never fully resonate with the audience.

The movie also struggles genre-wise to find a clear sense of identity. It drifts between horror, comedy, and satire, never fully committing to any of them. Once you’ve seen one kill, you’ve seen the rest. The comedy, also, only sporadically lands, often thanks to Poulter’s chaotic energy or Anthony Carrigan’s background character, who got more laughs out of me than the main cast combined. 

The absurd premise, which could have been captivating, also isn’t sustained enough to carry the film. What could have been a darkly whimsical, sci-fi-inspired fairytale ultimately felt thematically interesting, but narratively incomplete.

In the end, “Death of a Unicorn” flirts with myth and satire in ways that are occasionally entertaining but never fully realized. Its ambitious plot and stellar cast hint at what could have been, but the movie struggles to bring it all together in a satisfying way. While it definitely made me curious, the movie only left me wondering if it ever could have lived up to its own potential, or whether the idea of what it could have been would always be more magical than the film itself.