Tilman Singer’s psychological thriller “Cuckoo” promises chills and intrigue set against the cinematic backdrop of the Bavarian Alps. The film follows Gretchen, played by “Euphoria” breakout Hunter Schafer, a sullen American teen forced to relocate to Germany after her mother’s death. She moves in with her father, Luis (Marton Csokas), stepmother Beth (Jessica Henwick), and peculiar young stepsister Alma (Mila Lieu).
The family takes up residence in an isolated mountain resort managed by the eccentric Herr König, brought to creepy life by a scene-stealing Dan Stevens. Singer quickly establishes an unsettling mood, with female guests inexplicably getting sick and Gretchen’s encounters with a mysterious stalker setting the stage for greater dangers ahead.
As the hotel’s dark secrets begin to emerge, Gretchen finds herself fighting not just for answers, but for her life. Singer ratchets up the stakes with hallucinatory visuals and a mythology drawing from ominous animal behavior. Schafer embraces the chance to evolve from troubled teen to fierce “final girl” survivor. Stevens seems to relish the chance to unleash his inner villain. Time will tell if Singer can deliver enough coherence to match the promise of style and scares.
Family Ties Tested in the Shadows
We’re introduced to Gretchen during the fateful car ride that uproots her from the U.S. to Germany’s picturesque but ominous Alps. Still reeling from her mother’s recent death, she moves in with her father Luis, stepmother Beth, and peculiar mute stepsister Alma. Luis, an architect, has taken a job offer from the eccentric Herr König to redesign König’s remote mountain resort.
After settling into the hotel, tensions simmer as Gretchen bristles at having to start over and make nice with her new family. But soon, supernatural forces plunge them all into chaos. Female guests exhibit bizarre behavior before violently getting sick. Out alone at night, Gretchen is stalked by a mysterious banshee-like woman. Even little Alma suffers violent seizures that seem to trap witnesses in terrifying time loops.
Gretchen befriends flirty receptionist Trixie and questions cagey local detective Erik about the strange happenings. But the resort’s head doctor, Dr. Bonomo, offers few answers, despite injuries from her nightly attacks landing Gretchen in the hospital. Herr König takes a creepy interest in Gretchen, even as Luis seems oblivious to the danger.
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When Gretchen and alluring guest Ed make a break for it, their escape is cut short by a violent crash. Now trapped at the resort after a suspicious accident, Gretchen teams up with detective Henry Landau against König’s increasingly threatening plans. Singer holds major twists close to the vest, but teases connections between Alma’s origins, the women’s illnesses, and König’s obsession with breeding some kind of new species.
The cryptic mythology leaves details fuzzy, but Schafer’s emotional performance grounds the sensational plot in relatable teen angst. Singer piles on style and scares, suggesting that both family bonds and bodies will be pushed to the breaking point before any chance of escape from the resort.
A Beautiful Backdrop of Menace
Singer steeps “Cuckoo” in ominous atmosphere befitting its Alpine setting, juxtaposing majestic mountain vistas with a growing sense of unease. Shooting on 35mm film, cinematographer Paul Faltz casts gloriously cinematic light across the resort’s striking ’60s architecture and surrounding forest. The hotel’s glossy midcentury interiors take on a sterile, almost hospital-like pall under the circumstances.
As for the great outdoors, the idyllic valleys, cliffs and winding roads form barriers as much as passageways. Like the heroine of many a fairy tale, Gretchen finds herself isolated and endangered in an unfamiliar land full of dubious intentions and unknown rules. She may resent her new stepfamily, but her bond with Alma emerges as a lifeline she didn’t expect.
By leaving the exact time period ambiguous, Singer creates a kind of temporal loop as disorienting as Alma’s seizures. In weaving together old-world aristocrats, predatory science and female-focused body horror, “Cuckoo” explores profound violations of ethics, consent and nature itself.
Herr König’s arrogant talk of training and “preservation” points to long-running entitlement and abuse of power handed down through generations. The fact that the plot hinges on reproductive experiments gives rise to themes about men commandeering feminine agency and biological processes. Do the pregnant women even understand what was done to them?
For all its trendy style, “Cuckoo” revisits enduring ideas about mortality, motherhood and masculine hubris. Like the innocent children in fairy tales, Alma and Gretchen get caught in the crosshairs of forces they never signed up for. Their only hope is to rely on each other and their own grit to somehow break the spells that bind them.
Star Making Turn for Schafer
“Cuckoo” provides an ideal platform for Hunter Schafer to build on her breakout TV performance in “Euphoria” and cement her screentailing talents. She brings rugged physicality to the role of Gretchen, believably wielding her ever-present switchblade as she’s put through the ringer both emotionally and physically.
Schafer nails the volatile swings between standoffishness, angst and vulnerability of a grieving teen forced to grow up fast under dire circumstances beyond her control. We can see the self-reliant badass she projects as defense mechanism against further hurt and disillusionment. When Gretchen hisses at Herr König through her bandages and braces like a cornered animal, Schafer sells her defiant resolve to go down fighting no matter the personal cost.
Dan Stevens clearly delights in oozing upper-class menace and continental creepiness as the aristocratic hotelier with ulterior motives. His off-kilter line readings, wardrobe and questionable hobbies, including tooting a piccolo to apparently mind-control his victims, make Herr König an instant euro-horror icon.
While the supporting players have less dimensional roles to work with, Greta Fernández provides fun contrast as Trixie, the blasé hotel concierge unbothered by the bizarre goings-on. Jan Bluthardt also makes the most of limited screen time as Henry Landau, a dubious detective who earns Gretchen’s wary alliance against their common foe.
But make no mistake, this is Schafer’s movie. In resourcefully fighting through one nightmare gauntlet after another, she carries the emotional weight and demonstrates scream queen charisma to spare. Likely “Cuckoo” marks but the first compelling step into bigger movie roles.
A Breathless Descent Into Madness
“Cuckoo” wastes no time kicking its crazy plot into high gear. Singer maintains a brisk pace throwing Schafer’s moody heroine from one unexplained threat to another, prioritizing visceral sensation over coherent sensemaking.
We get little chance to settle into the hotel setting before the weirdness mounts. The early sequences establishing tension between Gretchen and her new family quickly give way to spooky supernatural encounters and medical emergencies. Singer pivots from Zero to Sixty both tonally and editorially, cutting scenes short on shock value.
There’s a giddy, anything-goes quality reminiscent of Sam Raimi’s horror classics as Singer delights in veering between sly humor and stomach-churning gore. The director signals his camp sensibility by making the ostensible villain a smirking fop who wields a piccolo as his weapon of choice.
Yet while Stevens chews the Alpine scenery, Schafer grounds the story emotionally even as violent set pieces crescendo toward an almost exhausting grand guignol climax. Gretchen pays dearly for unraveling König’s deranged plot, lending sufficient grit and gravity between Singer’s flair for absurdity.
By the end, viewers may share some of Gretchen’s disorientation. But those who prefer their horror served with an ample dose of WTF audacity are advised to RSVP yes to Singer’s unconventional party invite. The out-there premise promises a swift, strange trip.
Mixed Bag of Horror Delights
Singer clearly aims to put his own twist on horror conventions even when paying homage. “Cuckoo” incorporates familiar genre ingredients like a remote location, aggressive score, and jump scares aplenty. The director makes the most of the inherently creepy hotel and hospital locations, amplified by the isolation of the mountain setting.
He delivers supremely unsettling sequences, including the early attacks on Gretchen by the banshee-like woman. The strobe effects and audio distortions effectively disorient the viewer as much as the heroine. Gretchen’s subsequent hospital visit also proves memorably spine-tingling.
However, once Singer reveals his central concept rooted in invasive medical procedures and evolutionary experiments, the body horror elements push the limits of good taste. The “pregnant” women spewing viscera seemingly at random makes for gratuitous shock value rather than existential terror. Here Singer struggles to meaningfully integrate the gonzo gore with the more emotional through-line centered on the stepsisters.
The director best exhibits control of tone during the first half when favoring anticipation over exhibition. Lingering questions about what evil lurks behind the eccentric but oddly banal Germanic hospitality prove scarier than the eventual answers. Stevens’ aristocratic sociopath succeeds better as a shadowy implication rather than raving Bond villain.
Uneven plotting aside, Schafer sells enough raw desperation to carry viewers through the final confrontations. Singer may struggle to redirect our gaze from the gleefully gross to the emotionally grounded. But by capitalizing on his lead’s star potential, he sends enough voltage through horror’s nervous system to mostly overcome narrative deficiencies.
A Polarizing Provocation Worth Exploring
Your mileage with “Cuckoo” may vary based on personal taste and expectations. Singer clearly prioritizes atmosphere and provocation over plot coherence. Viewers craving neatly wrapped explanations are advised to check out early to avoid frustration.
However, fans of Euro-horror happy to buckle up for some cinematic WTF will find much to enjoy in Singer’s sophomore effort. Between the majestic Germanic scenery, copious nods to genre classics, and committed performances, “Cuckoo” arguably offers style to spare even when the story borders on nonsensical.
Discerning viewers may be left questioning how successfully Singer ultimately integrates the gonzo gore with the more emotional dynamics between the stepsisters. Yet when focused on capitalizing on Schafer’s star quality, the director’s creative vision soars. Her emotional journey lends sufficient gravitas to ground the sensationalistic plot.
At its best, “Cuckoo” should delight horror fans open to ambition and absurdity in equal measure. While the convoluted mythology leaves details wanting, Singer clearly establishes his own distinctive voice. And by letting Schafer fly in her first true leading role, “Cuckoo” signals the emergence of a new scream queen to watch. Viewers up for something boldly weird are encouraged to check in.
The Review
Cuckoo
Cuckoo is a stylish yet polarizing horror outing that will likely delight genre fans while leaving more story-focused viewers frustrated. Singer clearly prioritizes atmosphere and provocation at the expense of coherence. But fueled by Schafer's compelling performance and committed weirdness from Stevens, the dazzling visuals and unrelenting pace provide sufficient shock and awe for those on the director's trippy wavelength.
PROS
- Hunter Schafer gives a star-making lead performance
- Dan Stevens relishes playing against type as the creepy villain
- Striking visuals and atmosphere from director Tilman Singer
- Creative allusions to offbeat animal behavior and myths
- Determined final girl turn for Schafer
CONS
- Prioritizes style over narrative coherence
- Ambitious but muddled reproductive horror concept
- Over-the-top gore detracts from central emotional arc
- Pacing and tone waver between camp and grit
