How I Would Handle Hitting A Unicorn With My Car

Here are my takeaways from Death of a Unicorn:

1. Will Poulter is the man.
2. Not Jenna Ortega's best role, but I still believe in her.
3. I would've handled the whole conflict differently.

That's it. That's my review. Now, let me explain my third point.

The movie starts with Elliot (Paul Rudd) and his daughter, Ridley (Ortega), hitting a unicorn with their car as they drive to Elliot's boss's mansion in the Canadian Rockies. Yes, the movie plays like a subtle advertisement for Canada and no, we aren't becoming the 51st state, so stop asking.

Elliot's first move is to bludgeon the wounded unicorn to "death." To me, this makes sense. A mercy kill is probably the right thing to do, although I wouldn't have the stomach for it.

After hitting the unicorn, whether I bludgeon it or not, I'd have to get it off the road. This is the most logical solution. Elliot and Ridley not doing this is questionable, but maybe they're so awe-struck by this mythical creature that their rational brains stop working.

It's road safety 101: If you hit an animal while driving through the Canadian Rockies then you need to get it off the road. Of course, there are no other cars on the highway, because Americans believe this country is uninhabited. To be fair, on those interior roads, it can get pretty desolate. Still, alive or dead, that sucker has gotta move. I'd pull it off to the side of the road and leave. Let nature take its course. If Elliot had done this, it would've saved everyone a lot of trouble and a lot of lives.

But writer-director Alex Scharfman needed the unicorn to go with them or else he wouldn't have a movie. Elliot leaving the unicorn behind would've led to a weird weekend of power dynamics and family bonding, but no unicorns. Boringgg! For the plot, Elliot makes the moronic decision to load that carcass into his Volvo. For the sake of this article, let's assume that I made the same derelict decision.

I hit the unicorn and I load it into my car. I'm probably smeared in purple blood because these fuckers weigh a ton and I'm working alone. How did Elliot load it into his Volvo and stay so clean? Movie magic, I guess.

I lug it into my car. I'm covered in purple blood. As I'm driving to boss man's house, I start feeling really weird. Maybe weird isn't the right word, but I'm definitely feeling good, great even, and that's weird for me. My vision starts getting blurry. I take my glasses off and now I can see. Is it a miracle, magic, or something else? I suddenly feel like Max Verstappen, pushing the pedal to the floor, hitting corners perfectly at top speed. I reach boss man's country mansion in record time.

I vary from Elliot on more than one decision. In his infinite wisdom, Elliot tries to keep it a secret that there's a "dead" unicorn in his trunk. Why would he do this? His plan to wait until nightfall to bury the beast in the backyard without detection from his hosts is idiotic. A full day in the back of a hot Volvo would have that unicorn stankin'. I don't care if it's my boss or not, my first goal is to get the thing out of my car. "There's a dead unicorn in my trunk," are the first words out of my mouth, even before "hello."

We pull that fucker out and have a look. They do this in the movie, but it takes a while to get there. One thing leads to another and we find out about the unicorn's ability to rejuvenate itself and rejuvenate whatever touches its blood.

Now comes the moral dilemma. Once my boss and his whole greedy family realize the life-saving properties of the unicorn, do I allow them to exploit it? This is a tricky question. Because of course this majestic creature should continue to live. But also, curing cancer and everything else under the sun is pretty special. But there's a limited quantity as we only have one of these big boys. Yet, it takes very little uni to save a life. It could be spread around sparingly and effectively, at least for a while. This is what the boss and his wife in the movie decide, although they choose to give the serum to a bunch of evil billionaires for some unexplained reason.

I wouldn't allow that. Nope. No chance. Not on my watch, buster. The unicorn, if we even decide to exploit it and kill it and harvest it for all its worth, would be distributed on a case-by-case basis. Jeez, even writing that exposes the potential for corruption. It's like that old saying about how you shouldn't share with somebody unless you've brought enough for everybody. Although you don't need much 'corn to survive, you do need some, and there is a very finite amount.

Decisions, decisions.

By this time, we've probably learned that there's more than just one unicorn roaming the Rockies. Thus, we're faced with a new dilemma. If there's more, maybe there is enough for all mankind, if we can harvest them all. Additionally, they're gonna kill us, they're real, they live with us on Earth. So, moral dilemma number two: do we go out and harvest these fuckers and maybe die but also find a cure for humanity, or do we get back in the rental car, start the engine and hightail it back to God's country?

The latter! When the other unicorns show up at boss man's villa, I'm back in my rental car, driving to wherever Elliot and Ridley came from and I'm not looking back. I don't care if these unicorns are the answers to all human suffering and questions of existence. People should die! We already live way too long. Fuck these fuckers and their healing blood. Leave them alone. I'd rather live. I don't want answers to my existence. I like mysteries. The origin of humanity is one of the few mysteries left unsolved. Let's leave it that way. I'd rather live in mystery and sickness than get a unicorn horn rammed so far up my bum that it comes out my belly button.

I leave my boss and his family to die at the hooves of unicorns. My daughter and I are long gone into the night. I don't care if I made some promise to my dead wife before she died that I'd financially secure our daughter. I'm already a lawyer (if I'm Elliot, in this situation), I'll figure it out another way. I don't need the bazillions that would come with curing cancer. I'll take my six figures, get that kid into university and then, from there, she's on her own. At least she's alive and doesn't have PTSD from seeing her father get rammed by a unicorn. I'd need to get a new job, and my references would be shit because I left my boss and his family to die. But I'll thrive. I already have some unicorn blood in my system, so I'm firing at a higher calibre than ever before. I'll become the top lawyer in America, bring down big pharma, earn my own bazillion and ensure Ridley lives her best life. The rest of the world will continue to suffer diseases, pandemics and cancers, but hey, them the breaks. I'll retire, buy my own chalet in the Rockies and spend my golden years trying to tame one of these big boys.

Again, I could avoid all of this if I left the unicorn on the side of the road at the start. Hindsight, like my new unicorn-blood-fuelled vision, is 20/20.