Netflix Unicorn Store Test – IGN

By Kristy Puchko

If you can not get enough of the humorous moods of mates-cops Brie Larson and Samuel L. Jackson in Captain Marvel, you're probably as excited as I am about their new team in Unicorn Store. With the success of her hit MCU, Larson unveils her directorial debut exclusively on Netflix. This original age-old comedy portrays her glittering heart on her sleeve and boasts a stellar support cast including Deadpool's Karan Soni, Party Down's Ryan Hansen, Martha MacIsaac of Superbad, Bradley Whitford of Get Out and the awesome comic Joan Cusack. Plus, it gives us the sensational show of Samuel L. Jackson in a bright pink suit and an afro streaked with foil. Still, this promising comedy is somehow a staggering failure.

Written by Samantha McIntyre, Unicorn Store is centered on Kit (Larson), a lonely young woman whose expulsion from the art school left her lost to become an adult. Kit is obsessed with rainbows and unicorns. His closest friends are his Bisounours. The soles of his feet are literally covered with glitter (for whatever reason). At age 29, Kit is the kind of "failure to launch," lamented Millennial in editorials written by Baby Boomer. She is unemployed, lives in her parents' house, watches TV all day, but yet has the right to have a particular destiny.

Kit finds a job not because she has bills to pay or ambition, but because she does not want to be a "huge disappointment" for her parents who sleep pampered (Whitford and Cusack). To prove that she is ready for the first day as an interim in a public relations firm, she casts adult jargon like Grapefruit! Flax seed! Legal pads! However, her random efforts to mature find their concentration when she discovers The Salesman (Jackson) and her eponymous store, which is "a legitimate trading venue, and the opposite of murder".

Handmade cards allow Kit to be brought to the store, where the vendor takes her to visit her unicorn parlor, her hay restaurant and her ice cream parlor. He tells Kit that she can have a real living unicorn that will love her forever. All she has to do is win it. It means building a house for her, establishing a financial plan for her future and creating a strong bond with the family so that it is better supported. The unicorn is essentially a metaphor for parenting. The salesman tells Kit that she needs to be a mother to be a true adult woman worthy of love.

This sneaky humiliation of childless women is a bit shocking on Larson's part following Captain Marvel's press tour, where women's empowerment was at the heart of the debate. But that's not all. Unicorn Store doubles its problematic plot points by introducing Virgil (Mamoudou Athie), his potential boyfriend, as an alternative path to self-confidence and maturity. Kit learn to love is only an afterthought in this sloppy history of self-discovery.

Beyond his crazy messages, Unicorn Store just can not be funny. Which is frankly disconcerting when we look at his casting. Soni, Hansen and MacIsaac bring verve. Unfortunately, they are only given bits of time on the screen and unforgettable hit lines to make an impact. Hamish Linklater gets better, bringing a quiet comedy while the office slips. However, Whitford and Cusack are absolutely ruined here. They are assigned roles by parents aggressively perky, then undermined by a montage that favors Larson sullen reactions to their faces almost as impatient.

Jackson's character is as thin as paper. But between the outrageous costumes and his caricature zeal, he at least manages to have fun – not to say funny – as a Seller. Meanwhile, Athie offers impeccable timing in a straight line to the largely ungrateful role of love that supports Kit's crises. But the big problem shouting at the center of this comedy is its main director.

While she's been a laudable support player in comedies such as Tara's US, Scott Pilgrim vs. The World and 22 Jump Street, Larson seeks to shape the humor of Unicorn Store. Kit is a nightmarish mix between Leslie Knope of Parks and Recreation and Napoleon Dynamite. She has the tenacity and childish naivety of the first, with the short temperament and intense social awkwardness of the second. Which makes him an unbearable bully for a protagonist and a comedy who never really reaches his tonal posture. Larson does not achieve the lightness or craziness that could have made the Kit journey fun. Instead, we remain to watch a pretty and privileged hump of sulk and cry.