By Alex McPherson

Coasting slightly above mediocrity thanks to delightfully unhinged performances from Will Poulter and Richard E. Grant, director Alex Scharfman’s “Death of a Unicorn” is neither sharp nor poignant enough to leave a lasting mark amid its “Eat the Rich” contemporaries.

Scharfman’s film centers around recently widowed lawyer Elliot (Paul Rudd) and his college-aged daughter Ridley (Jenna Ortega). At the beginning of the film, they are en route to an estate owned by the Leopolds, owners of a pharmaceutical empire, in the Canadian Rockies. The family’s ailing patriarch, Odell (Grant), might make Elliot a board member of the company if Elliot plays his cards right. 

The relationship between Ridley and Elliot has been strained since the death of Ridley’s mother, with Elliot throwing himself into work at the expense of dealing with his grief. Elliot brings Ridley along as a half-hearted way to reconnect, but he’s really out for financial security. Although the Odells are a vain, nasty bunch, they have boatloads of money.

Elliot and Ridley’s winding, somewhat awkward road trip through the mountains is interrupted, however, when Elliot hits a strange creature with the rental car. Surprise surprise, it turns out to be a unicorn, with purple blood oozing from its flank and a glowing horn.

When they get out of the car to investigate, Ridley touches the horn, which induces a psychedelic, seemingly higher state of being. Ridley’s experience with this dying creature is rudely interrupted by Elliot bludgeoning it with a tire iron, resulting in them both being splattered with its innards. He then loads the corpse into the backseat.

Upon arriving at the Leopolds’ lavish estate, Elliot and Ridley meet up with the frail Odell, his extravagantly dressed wife, Belinda (Téa Leoni), and his son, Shepard (Poulter), a well-sculpted fool covering his inherent cowardice with a veneer of condescending, not-so-slickly deployed bullshit.

They also meet Griff (Anthony Carrigan of “Barry” fame), the Leopolds’ put-upon butler, and their trigger-happy bodyguard Shaw (Jessica Hayes). Ridley, shaken from the encounter with the unicorn, doesn’t greet the Leopolds too warmly. Elliot flat-out ignores Ridley’s concerns to get what he came there for: Odell signing him on as a company partner. His allergies, which were bothering him on the drive up, are mysteriously gone, as is Ridley’s acne, possibly due to the unicorn’s blood.

The previously dead unicorn re-awakens and is promptly put out of its misery again. Once the Leopolds learn of the unicorn’s magical healing abilities, they experiment with the horn to create a serum able to cure any disease — specifically Odell’s cancer, creating another opportunity to become the most powerful company in the world. Ridley argues against messing with the unicorn further and, sure enough, chaos reigns chéz Leopold, with plenty of horny (pun intended) kills to go around.

“Death of a Unicorn” has a lot on its mind – from navigating grief, to environmental exploitation, to the allure of wealth at the expense of personal morality, to the ever-timely idea of not screwing around with things one doesn’t understand. This, plus being a creature feature referencing such cinematic touchstones as “Jurassic Park” and “Alien.”

The issue is that Scharfman’s feature debut doesn’t effectively weave these themes together, resulting in an experience that’s more milquetoast than exciting when viewed in light of recent skewerings of the rich like “The Menu” and even, for better or worse, “Saltburn,” which seasoned its satire with attention-grabbing panache that’s sorely missing here.

The issues mostly stem from Scharfman’s screenplay, which largely fails to make these characters distinctive against what has come before. Elliot – portrayed with an uncharacteristically dull performance from Rudd – is a frustrating figure from the get-go without motivation or agency to “do the right thing” until the story predictably calls for it.

Ridley, too, is disappointingly plain – all the more frustrating since she’s supposed to be the voice of reason and compassion speaking truth to power. Ortega is firmly in her wheelhouse here, but her familiar bag of tricks (recently seen in “Beetlejuice Beetlejuice,” for example) are bleeding together, with “Death of a Unicorn” not giving her much of any new tools to work with.

The supporting players fare better, though, playing more over-the-top characters to match the outlandish premise. Grant is amusingly unhinged as the vain, pompous Odell, and it’s entertaining to watch his evolution (or de-evolution) from being wheelchair-bound to running around like a crazed madman hungry to capitalize on Elliot and Ridley’s discovery.

Poulter is the real cast highlight in “Death of a Unicorn,” though, absolutely nailing the polo-shirt-wearing, rich boy shtick to a T, particularly in the film’s latter half where he becomes a more active, drug-addled participant in the story. 

Carrigan delivers much of the film’s comedic highlights through his aggravated facial expressions alone, though Scharfman’s script gives Griff more dialogue than he needs to get the character’s feelings across. Sunita Mani as Dr. Batia, one of the people the Leopolds enlist to experiment on the unicorn, provides pathos as she’s forced to risk her life for her employers.

Unfortunately, the supporting cast cannot save the plain nature of Scharfman’s script, which neglects both the shock factor and depth of characterization to stand out amongst its inspirations. While surely relevant to current times, and bringing to mind obvious comparisons with the Sacklers, “Death of a Unicorn” doesn’t lend much depth to anyone beyond the surface level. This isn’t necessarily an issue in itself, but when the rest of the film relies so heavily on tropes (obviously set-up jump scares, clunkily earnest revelations, a drawn-out climax), the characters’ simplicity is distracting.

The unicorns themselves, aside from a heavy reliance on CGI, are creative and disturbing, at least. The film’s cat-and-mouse chase sequences are helmed well enough, and the gore – when Scharfman is confident enough to linger on it – shows glimmers of what “Death of a Unicorn” could have been if it had cut loose from the confines of conventionality.

Indeed, this isn’t a bad film by any means, but there’s little here that lingers once the end credits roll. It does provide fitful moments of catharsis, however, and that’s especially appreciated in today’s crazy times.

“Death of a Unicorn” is a 2025 horror-fantasy-comedy directed by Alex Scharfman and starring Paul Rudd, Jenna Ortega, Tea Leoni, Richard E. Grant, and Will Poulter. It is rated R for strong violent content, gore, language and some drug use, and the run time is 1 hour, 47 minutes. It opened in theaters on March 28. Alex’s Grade: C..

By Stephe Raven
Writer’s block. Hmm. Many of us have experienced this when under a deadline. And our heroine Elly Conway (Bryce Dallas Howard) starts off with it. She writes a popular espionage series whose main character is secret agent Argylle (Henry Cavill), who manages to solve mysteries and not get a hair out of place. He is the perfect James Bond type, always suave and gentlemanly.

The action thriller begins with Argylle and his trusty sidekick, goofily played by John Cena, trying to take down a sinister underground syndicate. Annnd cut! In reality, Elly has read a passage at a bookstore. She has a legion of fans who adore her four novels, and she seems taken aback by that. A recluse, she spends her evenings with her fluffy cat Alfie, and seems content with her very simple life, living through her books.

After completing her fifth in the series, she sends the manuscript to her mom (Catherine O’Hara) who advises that it needs to be punched up, and why not come for the weekend so they can brainstorm. Headed there on a train, Elly is disturbed by a scruffy ruffian (Sam Rockwell) who shocks her by saying her books are actually setting off real-life events. Despite her disbelief, he saves her from would-be assassins, and whisks her out of the country. Thus begins her real-life wild ride.

The twists and turns keep coming as Elly discovers that her fictional world is not so make-believe after all.. When she’s in a precarious situation, she calls on Argylle, who gives her sage advice. Some of it is so corny, you have to laugh.

This turn of events introduces more colorful characters, and it’s an all-star list of actors. Bryan Cranston plays Director Ritter, the head of a covert agency called the Division; singer Dua Lipa plays a seductive femme fatale named LaGrange, and Ariana DeBose is a tech-savvy ally, Agent Keira. Also in support are Samuel L. Jackson, Richard E. Grant and Sofia Boutella.

British director Matthew Vaughn, whose credits include “Kingsman: The Secret Service” in 2014, its sequel “Kingsman: The Golden Circle” in 2017, and its prequel, “The King’s Man” in 2021. He also helmed “X-Men: First Class” and “Kick-Ass,” so he knows how to imaginatively stage action scenes and uses humor effectively. The choreography for the smoke fight scene is especially impressive.

Screenwriter Jason Fuchs (“Wonder Woman”) pokes fun at the spy genre and its tropes, therefore the movie doesn’t take itself too seriously. The cast appears to be having fun with their roles, deftly delivering witty and memorable lines.

Come for the fun, stay for its unpredictability. And do not miss the extra scene at the end, for it nicely sets up a sequel, which I hope happens. This is the kind of enjoyable mainstream movie that engages for a few hours on a winter’s day, providing a few good laughs along the way!

“Argylle” is a 2024 action-thriller directed by Matthew Vaughn and starring Henry Cavill, Bryce Dallas Howard, Sam Rockwell, Bryan Cranston, John Cena, Ariana DeBose, Dua Lipa, Samuel L. Jackson, Sofia Boutella, Richard E. Grant, Rob Delaney and Catherine O’Hara. It is Rated PG-13 for strong violence and action and some strong language and the run-time is 2 hours, 19 minutes. It opens Feb. 2 in local theatres. Stephe’s Grade: C+

By Alex McPherson

Studio Ghibli’s latest project, “Earwig and the Witch,” is a bland film lacking depth and imagination.

The story, based on Diana Wynne Jones’ book, follows Earwig (Taylor Paige Henderson), a young girl living in an orphanage in the British countryside. As a baby, she was abandoned by her mother (Kacey Musgraves), a witch fleeing powerful forces seeking her demise. Earwig, quite a bubbly individual, is content living there with her pal, Custard (Logan Hannon), and has zero interest in moving away.

Her fortunes change when she’s adopted by an imposing, scraggly haired witch named Bella Yaga (Vanessa Marshall) and her spindly, short-tempered husband named Mandrake (Richard E. Grant). Earwig becomes Yaga’s servant — mopping floors and preparing ingredients for her potions. She soon befriends a talking cat named Thomas (Dan Stevens). “Coraline,” much? As the days pass by, Earwig is trapped within this toxic household, unless she can find a way out.

Before all else, dear readers, we must address the film’s controversial animation style. Eschewing the hand-drawn techniques typical of other Studio Ghibli films, “Earwig and the Witch” relies entirely on computer-generated imagery. As a result, environments are rendered with striking attention to detail, but characters’ facial expressions lack nuance, leaving them lifeless and difficult to latch onto. Similarly, characters bluntly explain what they’re feeling at any given moment, perhaps attempting to compensate for their doll-like appearances. 

Director Goro Miyasaki (the son of legendary director Hayao Miyasaki) should be commended for breaking from tradition, I suppose. Regardless of the animation, “Earwig and the Witch” still ends up being a rather stale affair.

Unfortunately, Earwig remains irritating from start to finish. She’s fearless and perpetually optimistic. Miyazaki effectively juxtaposes her initial freedom with the repressiveness of her new environment, but she fails to grow in any meaningful way over the course of the film. Ironically, the life lessons we’re force-fed later on don’t apply to Earwig herself.

As she investigates her surroundings, the pacing slows to a crawl. Indeed, “Earwig and the Witch” extends the dullest aspects of her predicament to fill the entire runtime, becoming repetitive and mind numbing leading up to its exposition-packed conclusion. Nothing much of importance happens, as Earwig and her feline companion (primarily relegated to comedy relief) wander around aimlessly without a clear objective. Shouldn’t they want to escape? There’s no driving force to this plot, and little preventing me from watching something else.

Everything changes in the last 15 minutes, however. We’re bombarded with backstory that’s far more compelling than anything Earwig’s involved in, a sad reminder of the film that could have been. Additionally, the visuals stay frustratingly limited until the finale — providing fleeting moments of spectacle that the film should have embraced more consistently. Familiar themes are broached, including music’s communal power, but little stands out, and the end credits sequence leaves more emotional impact than anything in the main plot. 

At least the voice cast does an acceptable job with what they’re given. Grant stands out in particular, conveying Mandrake’s grumbling, volatile demeanor in an intimidating fashion.

Small children might enjoy the film’s simplistic narrative and cutesy, occasionally spooky vibes, but everyone else should steer clear and (re)watch “Coraline” instead. It pains me to write this, as a Studio Ghibli fan, but “Earwig and the Witch” just feels pointless.

“Earwig and the Witch” is an animated fantasy adventure film directed by Goro Miyasaki. It is rated PG for some scary images and rude material and run time is 1 hour, 22 minutes. Alex’s Rating: C-