Thelma the Unicorn review – sunny Netflix cartoon offers simple pleasures

Thelma the Unicorn, a new Netflix animated family movie, has plenty of successful tricks aimed at kids: glitter and cotton-candy pink, a pile of manure jokes, a mini-album of catchy original songs, an endearing hero in its titular singing pony-turned-unicorn. But perhaps its greatest asset is its parable of fame, easy enough for young minds reared on phones to grasp, but winking to those who understand a matching-double-denim-outfits on the red carpet reference.

I have to imagine that it is bewildering to grow up aware of or aspiring to viral fame – Instagram celebrities, TikTok trends, overnight Youtube stars –before you even really know yourself. In the grand tradition of kids movies peppered with adult references and talking donkeys, Thelma the Unicorn, directed by Lynn Wang and Napoleon Dynamite’s Jared Hess, offers up plenty of glitterified, thoroughly silly fun over a decent, sunny message on staying true to yourself in the spotlight.

It comes with plenty of pitfalls along the way, which provide the bulk of the film’s humor. Thelma, voiced by Alabama Shakes frontwoman Brittany Howard in her voice-acting debut, is a working small-town pony (she carts manure at a farm) with a DIY backing band and a dream of crowd-surfing at the music festival Sparklepalooza. Thwarted by the usual dismissals at an American Idol-esque audition – we don’t like your look, you don’t have the “it” factor – Thelma catches a break thanks to a collision with a clumsy truck driver’s (Zach Galifianakis) paint and glitter. Her unicorn makeover is an immediate draw; in this world, written by Hess and Jerusha Hess, of co-existent talking humans and animals with a famous narwhal popstar, a unicorn is still a can-you-believe it rarity. One deleted “Picstagram” profile, a new moniker, and a viral video of her singing later, Thelma is an overnight star as a unicorn, not a pony – much to the chagrin of her bandmates Otis (Will Forte) and Reggie (former Napoleon Dynamite Jon Heder), who advocate for her to be herself.

But in the grand tradition of music biopics (think Rocketman or Elvis but with barn animals for kids) Thelma falls into clutches of Vic Diamond (Jemaine Clement), a predatory music manager in the vein of ’60s swinging London, who promises her the world: her own unicorn jet, her own No 1 hit, her own show replacing ageing pop diva Nina Narwhal (Ally Dixon) and her scheming assistant Megan Shank (Edi Patterson), her own showmance with a “TubeTube” star named Danny Stallion (Fred Armisen). (Good to offer kids some celebrity media literacy!)

Thelma’s time with Sell Out Records – “because everything we sell sells out immediately”, as Vic says – is both the funniest section of the movie (a lowbrow-aiming hip-hop music video on a yacht is particularly inspired) and the best showcase for the film’s questionable animation, which can sometimes verge on the grotesque. There’s snot, pink eye, and plenty of manure; Vic, especially, is rendered with big teeth and a gut, a bit queasy for a character coded as a sleazy and openly craven.

But Thelma the Unicorn is a mostly breezy journey, as the little show pony learns her lessons and finds a more authentic way to be famous after one too many disastrous PR moves at the Music Video Awards. Howard, given several opportunities to display her powerful singing voice via music by John Powell, also wins over with her speaking one, imbuing Thelma with folksy charisma and confidence from the get-go; she may not believe in herself without the pink unicorn dust, but there’s never any doubt that she’s a star worth watching.

Which is enough for a movie of this ilk: a worthy lead character, some catchy enough song and dance, enough self-awareness to appeal to those not distracted by the unicorn of it all. In a sea of family content that’s more often than not annoying, Thelma the Unicorn surfs, for the most part, above the crowd.