Review: Unicorns
I was invited to the screening of the new movie Unicorns at the Stonewall Inn in NYC. Walking through the bar…up the stairs…past those infamous restrooms…the history of gay culture is always deeply and movingly evocative. Many artists lean on this historical context as a prop to enrich their queer presentations on that divey second floor, as if the ghosts of the West Village are saluting their efforts. I’ve seen many presentations on that second floor, and more often than not, the ghosts are not. Tonight, however…
I believe all the eyes that have glistened within the hallowed walls of the Stonewall Inn would be proud to behold something as beautifully crafted as Unicorns.
Unicorns introduces itself as a love story draped in the clothes of a romantic comedy, but with a heart that beats closer to drama. Directed with sensitivity and style, it tells the story of Luke (Ben Hardy), a working-class straight East London mechanic who stumbles into a drag club and meets its dazzling star, Aisha (Jason Patel). A kiss sparks between them, but when Luke realizes Aisha is biologically male, he recoils…only to find himself drawn back into her orbit. What follows is a romance that’s tender, volatile, and deeply tied to questions of identity, illusion, loneliness, and survival.
“I believe all the eyes that have glistened within the hallowed walls of the Stonewall Inn would be proud to behold something as beautifully crafted as Unicorns.”
What makes Unicorns stand out are five elements, each executed with exceptional craft. First, Ben Hardy’s performance: his Luke is rooted in the economic and social limits of his East London upbringing. He brings a grounded, injured cautiousness to a character who might otherwise have been a cliché. Second, Jason Patel’s dual roles as the larger-than-life Aisha and the repressed Indian Muslim son Ashiq are riveting. The contrast between flamboyant freedom and filial duty creates a fascinating dramatic tension, one that Patel plays with heartbreaking nuance. Third, the soundtrack by Stuart Earl…both its explosive club tracks and its subtle emotional electronic score…viscerally underscores the characters’ longing and unspoken truths. Fourth, Iain Kitching’s editing seamlessly and creatively moves between club frenzy, private intimacy, and dialogue-driven realism. And fifth, Unicorns also owes a VERY large debt to cinematographer David Raedeker for infusing the film with gritty realism…from the club, to the low-income housing, to the intimate car interiors. All these talents absolutely elevate the storytelling.
Structurally, Unicorns follows the beats of a rom-com…without the com. We get the expected montage of carnival dates and dance-floor flirtations, the charming karaoke scene, the smoldering moments of sexual tension, even a rescue that deepens the lovers’ bond. The romance is tender and believable. The subtext of two people desperately needing to connect but constrained by their individual circumstances is beautifully rendered by two remarkably compelling actors. The first half’s restraint allows the relationship to unfold lightly and honestly, without artifice.
But the second half reveals both the film’s greatest strengths…and its missed opportunities. After a pivotal development, we are introduced to the Indian Muslim home life of Ashiq. The ties between him and his mother, father, and brother are not only constraining but deeply meaningful. Ashiq is embedded in traditions, expectations, and genuine affection. He cannot simply abandon his family for love. The tension in Unicorn between chosen identity and inherited obligation brims with dramatic potential, evoking echoes of Crossing Delancey, My Beautiful Laundrette, and Billy Elliot.
“ The tension in Unicorn between chosen identity and inherited obligation brims with dramatic potential, evoking echoes of Crossing Delancey, My Beautiful Laundrette, and Billy Elliot.”
And yet, just when the rom-com formula demands resolution, two thorny conflicts emerge. First: how will Ashiq reconcile his chosen identity as Aisha with his inherited cultural obligations as an Indian Muslim son? Second: how will Luke reconcile his love for the illusion of Aisha with the reality of Ashiq, all while shouldering the very real responsibilities of a low-earning single father? These are the film’s richest questions. But when Aisha reappears in full drag at Luke’s garage for the expected final kiss, it becomes clear the film has chosen not to wrestle with them. The romance is moving, yes, but the avoidance of these dilemmas leaves the resolution feeling incomplete. Had the film aimed for lighthearted fantasy in the vein of Legally Blonde, such avoidance would be forgivable. But the fearless direction, grounded performances, sensitive editing, and emotional score promised more.
Ultimately, Unicorns is a romance that resists the easy catharsis of its genre. And yet…what a beautiful journey! Time and again, I found my cheeks warm with tears at the sheer beauty of two people from radically different worlds accidentally finding a space to overlap and love. Unicorns makes me grateful to be in a world where other artists are recognizing the value of connection in such a gorgeous way.
See Unicorns NOW.
Yours,
Daniel Tobias