Like children do, I watched the thing I loved over and over until I had memorized the lines and the words to all of the songs by the folksy, mostly-forgotten band “America.” And then I read other unicorn books, better unicorn books that appreciated the same majesty and inherent otherworldliness and melancholy of an immortal beauty like The Last Unicorn. I was not wrong about any of this, and so began my lifelong obsession with The Last Unicorn. This unicorn was clearly engaged in some epic battle with a frankly Satanic-looking, burning red bull, and despite knowing nothing else, I was convinced it was going to be awesome.Īll of the other DVD covers are just embarrassing after this. When I was a child, modern unicorns were generally fluffy beasts with glitter in their manes, colored in pinks and rainbows and frolicking around clouds and butterflies. Beagle’s beloved classic fantasy The Last Unicorn was the 1982 animated film (for which Beagle wrote the screenplay, thank goodness) that I first pulled off a Blockbuster shelf above my head because of the brilliant unicorn on the cover. Like most people my age, my introduction to Peter S.
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