‘The Last Unicorn’ Is A Beloved Cartoon More Disturbing And Sad Than We Remember

It’s pretty heartbreaking when you realize Bastian’s waking life and his fantasy world are literally crumbling around him because he’s afraid to say his mother’s name out loud. He has to acknowledge her (in spite of his father’s advice to forget her), pick up the pieces of his former life, and create his own story to move on with. And even once he does this, he still isn’t ready to face the real world. It’s implied that he remains lost in fantasy for a significant amount of time.

It is established immediately Bastian lost his mother and is having nightmares about her. At the breakfast table, he attempts to discuss this with his father, but gets quickly dismissed.

He berates the kid for drawing unicorns, and tells him he needs to keep his feet on the ground. Then, he not-so-smoothly transitions into a lecture about his grades, and how he’s disappointed in him for not trying out for the swim team. Really, Dad? Swim team? Then he tussles Bastian’s hair and comments on how great their little talk was. He is so insensitive, it’s physically uncomfortable to watch.

After escaping from some mean kids, Bastian wanders into a bookstore and takes a book from the shopkeeper, who has already told him to leave. Young Bastian then goes to school and, upon realizing he has a math test, he decides to go hide. He grabs the key to the school’s attic to read his ill-gotten goods for the rest of the day.

So, in the first 10 minutes, we’ve got our child hero wandering city streets alone, taking things that don’t belong to him, blowing off a test, and skipping class the entire day. Oh, and breaking and entering. In other words, a classic hero.

Even when ignoring the fact that all it takes to save Fantasia is renaming the Empress (which is basically just a metaphor for creating your own story), why on earth is Atreyu sent on a mission where he isn’t allowed to bring any weapons and has to go alone? And where is he even going? He’s told to find “the cure,” but he isn’t told where it might be. He wanders aimlessly with his horse for a week before making any progress, and his mission is pretty time sensitive.

The Swamp of Sadness is meant to represent pure sorrow. Whoever lets despair overtake them sinks to the bottom. As if that dark little tidbit wasn’t unsettling enough for children, The Neverending Story gives a visceral demonstration, just to make sure all the souls are thoroughly crushed.

Atreyu’s lovable horse and only companion, Artax, stops in the middle of the muck and grime, and becomes so overwhelmed with sadness he simply gives up. The horse stands there and sinks to oblivion, as Atreyu pulls at his reins screaming and sobbing uncontrollably. Approximately 99.9% of children watching bawled their eyes out, and never got over that scene. Ever.

After losing his horse, Atreyu becomes so overwhelmed with grief that he too gives up, and allows himself to begin sinking into the Swamp of Sadness. He would have died if Falkor didn’t swoop in and rescue him. That’s one animal suicide and one boy attempting suicide in a single scene.

As it turns out, the wisest being in Fantasia, Morla the Ancient One, is also a senile, nihilistic d*ck who couldn’t stop speaking of herself in the third person plural. “We haven’t spoken to anyone else for thousands of years, so, we started talking to ourselves,” Morla explains to the baffled Atreyu.

As he asks for help of any kind in order to save Fantasia, the Empress, and the lives of everyone, Morala pretty much can’t stop reiterating the degree to which she doesn’t give a sh*t. She doesn’t care if everyone dies, she doesn’t care if she dies, and “We don’t even care whether or not we care.” See you at the Avenged Sevenfold concert, Morla.

The author of The Neverending Story, Michael Ende, was pretty disgusted with the film version for several reasons, and even took to publicly bashing it. One of his many grievances were the extremely busty Sphinx statues. Hilariously referring to them as Fantasia’s strippers and ranting, “The Sphinxes are quite one of the biggest embarrassments of the film. They are full-bosomed strippers who sit there in the desert,” Ende has some clear, negative opinions on the film. And, at least about the Sphinxes, he’s not wrong.

The Sphinx statutes are able to see into the hearts of humans. It’s kind of their whole shtick. Those who show true self-worth are allowed to pass unharmed, and those who weren’t so confident ended up crispified by laser beam eyes. One could (try to) overlook the massive bare breasts in a children’s movie if the statues successfully conveyed the importance of self-confidence. However, Atreyu only made it halfway through before he started to doubt himself.

Instead of briefly dealing with an internal struggle, then finding the strength to pull through, he just makes a run for it. He doesn’t actually prove himself worthy of crossing their path. Their eyes open all the way and they shoot actual laser beams at him, they just miss because he runs real good. So, basically, the movie gives us an unworthy hero who has no faith in himself, and that’s somehow good enough.

The entire film has darkness looming over everything. It’s basically the mass genocide of hopes, dreams, and fantasy in general. In one emotionally disturbing scene, the Rockbiter obsessively stares at his hands, insisting they look like big, strong hands. Then, he recounts how they failed him as he tried to hang on to his friends who slipped from his grasp and into The Nothing.

As if that weren’t depressing enough, Rockbiter tells Atreyu, “The Nothing will be here any minute. I will just sit here and let it take me away too.” The friendly giant has been drained of all will to live. He just sits in despair, waiting for the end to consume him.