Brie Larson’s ‘Unicorn Store’: A Whimsical Mirror to Adulthood’s Uncomfortable Truths
There’s something disarmingly honest about Unicorn Store that’s easy to miss if you’re not paying attention. On the surface, it’s a quirky fantasy dramedy starring Brie Larson and Samuel L. Jackson. But personally, I think it’s one of those rare films that uses whimsy as a Trojan horse to explore something far more profound: the awkward, often painful transition into adulthood. What makes this particularly fascinating is how Larson, both as director and lead, doesn’t shy away from the messiness of growing up. It’s not a coming-of-age story in the traditional sense—it’s more like a coming-to-terms story.
The Fantasy of Escapism (And Why It’s Not All Bad)
Let’s talk about Kit, the protagonist. She’s an artist whose dreams haven’t quite materialized, and she’s stuck in a soul-sucking office job. Sound familiar? What many people don’t realize is that Kit’s journey isn’t just about her; it’s a mirror to anyone who’s ever felt trapped by the expectations of adulthood. The Salesman (Samuel L. Jackson, in all his eccentric glory) offers her a unicorn—a literal embodiment of childhood fantasy. But here’s the kicker: the unicorn isn’t a solution; it’s a catalyst. It forces Kit to confront her unspoken fears, her strained relationship with her parents, and her own reluctance to embrace responsibility.
From my perspective, this is where the film shines. It doesn’t demonize escapism. Instead, it acknowledges that sometimes, we need fantasy to survive the drudgery of reality. But it also reminds us that fantasy can’t replace growth. Kit’s quest to create a stable for the unicorn isn’t just about building a physical space—it’s about constructing emotional maturity. And let’s be honest, who among us hasn’t tried to build a metaphorical stable for our own unicorns?
The Practical Magic of Adulthood
One thing that immediately stands out is how the film intertwines the magical with the mundane. Kit has to gather food for the unicorn, earn money, and mend relationships—all while navigating the absurdity of The Salesman’s supernatural store. If you take a step back and think about it, this is adulthood in a nutshell: a bizarre blend of the fantastical and the practical. The unicorn isn’t just a symbol of childhood dreams; it’s a test. Can Kit handle the responsibility of caring for something so pure and fragile?
What this really suggests is that adulthood isn’t about abandoning fantasy—it’s about integrating it into reality. Kit’s journey isn’t about letting go of her unicorn; it’s about realizing that the unicorn was never the point. The point was the growth, the connections, the hard work. And that’s a lesson we could all stand to remember in a world that often feels like it’s demanding we grow up too fast.
Brie Larson’s Dual Role: Director and Mirror
Brie Larson’s decision to direct and star in Unicorn Store feels deliberate. Coming off the heels of Captain Marvel, a film that’s all about power and control, Unicorn Store is almost a rebellion against that narrative. In my opinion, Larson is making a statement here: not every story needs to be about saving the world. Sometimes, the most heroic thing you can do is face your own insecurities.
A detail that I find especially interesting is how Larson doesn’t glamorize Kit’s struggles. There’s no triumphant montage where everything falls into place. Instead, there’s awkwardness, frustration, and moments of quiet realization. It’s messy, and that’s what makes it real. Critics might call it ‘wispiness,’ but I see it as authenticity. Not every story needs a grand climax—sometimes, the climax is just deciding to keep going.
The Broader Implications: Why This Film Matters
Unicorn Store isn’t just a movie; it’s a conversation starter. It raises a deeper question: What happens when our childhood fantasies collide with adult realities? In a culture that glorifies hustle and productivity, the film dares to suggest that maybe, just maybe, it’s okay to hold onto a little bit of magic.
What many people don’t realize is that this film is also a commentary on the millennial experience. Kit’s struggle to find her place in the world, her resistance to traditional career paths, her desire for something more—these are all hallmarks of a generation that’s been told to ‘grow up’ while being handed a world in chaos. The unicorn isn’t just a symbol of childhood; it’s a symbol of hope in a world that often feels hopeless.
Final Thoughts: The Unicorn in All of Us
If there’s one takeaway from Unicorn Store, it’s this: adulthood doesn’t have to mean giving up on your unicorns. It’s about learning to care for them in a way that doesn’t neglect the realities of life. Personally, I think that’s a message we could all use right now.
So, the next time you feel like you’re stuck in a candy castle that’s starting to melt, remember Kit. Remember that sometimes, the journey to maturity isn’t about letting go of your fantasies—it’s about learning how to build a stable for them. And maybe, just maybe, that’s where the real magic lies.
Stream it on Netflix. See what your unicorn looks like.
