A few weeks ago, I panned the A24 film Opus because of its derivativeness. It was nothing more than a half-assed copycat of the "regular person finds themselves surrounded by a cult" movies we've been avalanched by over the years. And now, as if they didn't learn their lesson (or didn't care), the studio is back again with another venture down a well-trodden road, this time making the lateral movement into the territory of eat-the-rich and late-stage capitalism.

From first-time writer/director Alex Scharfman, Death of a Unicorn is exactly the type of movie you'd expect based on the trailer; or if you've seen any of the combinations of Glass Onion, Parasite, The Menu, or Triangle of Sadness. You've got your obviously corrupt wealthy family the Leopolds, pharmaceutical billionaires who've secluded themselves in the Canadian Rockies under the guise of philanthropy. The leader of the pack is the terminally ill Odell (Richard E. Grant), watched over by his wife (Téa Leoni) and buffoonish son Shep (Will Poulter).

Beleaguered father Elliot (Paul Rudd) is sent to handle some paperwork before Odell passes, his daughter Ridley (Jenna Ortega) in tow in an effort for them to use the weekend as a way to reconnect after the death of his wife/her mother. But even in this tranquil slice of natural paradise, death still seems to follow the duo. They strike a horse with their rental car, leaving Elliot to bludgeon it out of its misery with a tire iron. Except this horse is much bigger than expected, has a glowing horn attached to its head, and has magic blood that cured Elliot's vision and Ridley's acne when it splattered on them. Nobody can get themselves to admit what they all think it is, except until Ridley just comes out and says "It's a fucking unicorn!"

Of course, when nature hands humanity a gift, we immediately look to exploit it for the wealthy. Odell calls up his fellow members of the 1% of the 1% club, making millions per minute as he promises vials of blood, horn shavings, and all the different kinds of cuts of unicorn meat. Scharfman's script hits all the familiar beats through these initial proceedings. We're supposed to laugh at the absurdity of it all, except that the jokes just aren't funny enough, and the collective public mood isn't game for something like this anymore.

That's not to say the material is unfunny, as actors like Poulter and Barry star Anthony Carrigan, appearing as the Leopold's mistreated butler, spin this straw into a few light chuckles here and there. There's also some slight amusement to be had in witnessing the violent dismemberment of bad people at the hands (or, in this case, hoofs and horns) of unicorns. Killing one of their own will not go unpunished by these mystical creatures, a warning Ridley tries to instill after she uses her art history degree to do some research.

But as the people we want to die get picked off one by one, we're only left with the people that we're supposed to be rooting for. Except Rudd and Ortega are underused and flat, leaving not much room to care about their problems. A horror movie filled with purely guilty pleasures is fine by itself, just don't try to sell me spoonfuls of social commentary and trauma if you aren't going to put in the effort to make it taste good.