The Last Unicorn (1982)

Hello you! As you read this entry - be it shortly after my posting it or even months later - somewhere in my lighter heart I am dancing barefoot through a magical forest, among the bears and bunnies, with voluminous golden hair flowing about my face. This treasured place, this mossy haven, now and forever resides within my Jenny Millie heart, for having seen the Jules Bass/Arthur Rankin 1982 animated classic The Last Unicorn (which is helpful, because between writing those lines and this one I saw Synedoche, New York and have never felt a stronger need to believe in unicorns). Starring Mia Farrow, Alan Arkin, Jeff Bridges, Angela Lansbury, and Christopher Lee (who was also in the German language version incidentally, how cool is that?), The Last Unicorn should not be missed, but instead watched over and over again!

The Basics: The last unicorn (an ethereal Farrow) sets out to find and save her kin, who have all been rounded up and sent into the sea by the evil, lonely King Haggard (Lee) and his minion, the vicious Red Bull. She's aided in her quest by the well intended, marginally competent wizard Schmendrick (Arkin) and a smart mouthed chambermaid. Together, they find the unicorns and bring them all home to magical safety!

I'm trying to think of precisely when this piece of full on cinematic awesomeness first hooked me. Was it the parallel to the famous The Hunt of the Unicorn Tapestries in the title sequence (which I had the sincere pleasure of seeing at The Cloisters in New York recently)?

their shot

my shot

Or maybe reader it occurred when America started singing the theme song (please visit this link)? Or perhaps the visit from the irreverent, prophetic, Lewis Carroll loving butterfly who stated so poetically "[unicorn] your name is a golden bell hung in my heart" (isn't that simply lovely)? Perhaps the peg-legged, one eyed, talking pirate cat who loves riddles as much as tummy cuddles?

No reader, as I think on it, it was instantly. Right when the black opens to color, and the enchanted trees in a most magical forest cross in front of each other, moving aside like painted props in a stage play, to reveal a gentle waterfall and rolling valley. Then we see some hunters, and in their wake, the silhouette of the most beautiful unicorn, her mane flowing gracefully, effortlessly, and the signature horn prominent and powerful even in shadow . Yes, the beginning, when the hunter's describe this magnificent myth, who protects "a forest where snow never falls and it is always spring." Where snow never falls and it is always spring? It is truly magical!


Based on Peter S. Beagle's beloved 1968 book of the same name, The Last Unicorn had quite a following long before the film was released in 1982. It has sold over 5 million copies and been translated into 20 languages. Oh the universality of intuitive, wise children's stories . . . anywho, what was I saying? Oh yes, this film is amazing. Farrow's unicorn is positively awe-inspiring. Her voice, breathy but strong, other worldy even, made me feel like a little girl watching one of the most beautiful animals ever to roam, instead of a 26 year old curled up under three blankets with her laptop. Add in Arkin's irresistible Schemndrick, Lansbury's inspired Mommy Fortuna (a powerful witch who traps the unicorn) and Lee's sadistic King Haggard and The Last Unicorn becomes an instantly classic fairy tale of the most magical, most delightful proportions. I'm giddy just thinking about it!

Of all the movies that Tanner has recommended to me, and there have been dozens of excellent ones, this is by far the most wonderful. Thank you, thank you so much. In our discussion afterward we got to talking about the film's adult content.


In the tradition of poignant, relevant fairy tales, this film has its share of underbelly imagery, mature content, and even a little bit of nudity. This is only natural, for the most enduring children's stories are passed down by the adults who believe in their validity and truth, right? The joy these stories bring to us as children in some ways becomes a sweet topping to the reinforcement we get when re-watching or rereading them as adults, when we more fully discover the significance and insight that can only be understood long past childhood. You'd like an example? Take Schmendrink's assessment: "there are no happy endings because nothing ends." Quite a bit to comprehend as a child, but an incredibly valuable lesson that we could all use reminding of (that includes you Mr. Kaufman!)

And if you still need further proof of this movie's awesome glory, I suggest you take a look at just a fraction of the FanArt it has inspired:






And then there was this woman. I'm actually speechless.


Millie's bees to knees meter (1 bee = blah, 10 bees = hoo-rah): 9.5