Finally, The Gift is here to answer the question absolutely nobody asked: What would it look like if a drunken 19th century Russian duke wrote I, Robot? Design and cinematography are The Gift's strongest suits; from the Half-Life-esque guards to the world's snootiest robot, whom I shall dub Snootbot, it's apparent that the film has style to spare.
But what's most impressive here is the amount of world building that takes place in such a small amount of time. Feature-length filmmakers, take note: The human brain is pretty good at filling in the blanks. Thirty seconds into The Gift, and with absolutely no dialogue or text, we are able to discern the time frame, the location, and at least a general sense of both atmosphere and history. This is an upscale neighborhood of a dystopian Russian city in the near future. Some sci-fi movies need three paragraphs of intro text and 20 minutes of clumsy exposition to get as much info across.
There are more questions than answers in The Gift. I'm assuming the titular gift is not a literal unicorn, although who knows? Maybe there's a tiny glowing horse chillin' in that box, and robots just happen to love equines as much as preteen girls and Daniel O'Briens. Why is the courier so prepared to kill for it if he had no idea what it was upon delivery? What is the robot sorry for, and who is he apologizing to? But don't worry, because The Gift has the answer to the only question that matters.