Cuckoo (2024, dir. Tilman Singer)

by Jack Martin | Aug 25, 2024

Certificate: 15

Running Time: 103 mins

UK Distributor: Universal Pictures

UK Release Date: 23 August 2024

WHO’S IN CUCKOO?

Hunter Schafer, Dan Stevens, Jessica Henwick, Jan Bluthardt, Márton Csókás, Greta Fernández, Àstrid Bergès-Frisbey, Konrad Singer, Proschat Madani, Kalin Morrow, Mila Lieu

WHO’S BEHIND THE CAMERA?

Tilman Singer (director, writer), Thor Bradwell, Markus Halberschmidt, Ken Kao, Ben Rimmer, Josh Rosenbaum and Maria Tsigka (producers), Simon Waskow (composer), Paul Faltz (cinematographer), Terel Gibson and Philipp Thomas (editors)

WHAT’S IT ABOUT?

An American teenager (Schafer) discovers a horrifying secret in the German Alps…

WHAT ARE MY THOUGHTS ON CUCKOO?

There have been plenty of great examples of the “elevated horror” subgenre, including as recently as Longlegs, which is still one of the year’s finest films. However, every so often you get one that certainly has the ideas and mannerisms of your typical horror-tinged offering from A24 or the like, but not quite the prowess or even the intelligence to pull them off.

Cuckoo, from writer-director Tilman Singer, is one of those films. Though not terrible, as it is intriguing and well-made in addition to being well-performed, it nonetheless feels like a disappointing missed opportunity to go the full hog with its elevated material and deliver something truly deranged, rather than the mild and somewhat confounding mess that it provides.

The film sees grieving American teenager Gretchen (Hunter Schafer) reluctantly relocate with her father Luis (Márton Csókás), her step-mother Beth (Jessica Henwick), and her mute half-sister Alma (Mila Lieu) to a resort in the German Alps, where her family intends to help local businessman Herr König (Dan Stevens) build a new hotel. König takes a shine to Gretchen, offering her a front-desk job at one of his establishments, but she quickly notices some strange occurrences like a mysteriously disorientating screeching sound coming from the nearby woods, young Alma developing sudden seizures, guests vomiting in the lobby, and a woman appearing to chase after her in a deranged fashion. Obviously, something is wrong about this resort, and it seems like König is heavily involved, so Gretchen teams with local policeman Henry (Jan Bluthardt) to get to the bottom of it all.

There are many moments throughout the first half or so of Cuckoo where you can see its full potential beginning to take shape. Singer has a good sense of build-up, slowly teasing numerous aspects with a playful and twisted approach that drip-feeds essential information without giving the whole game away in one go. Certain sequences, particularly Gretchen’s first encounter with the horrifying woman during a nighttime bike ride, are shot and paced with the right amount of creepiness, and at times even leave you a bit breathless by the suddenness in which they leap out at you.

The performances are also strong enough to at least make you curious about where these characters are going to end up, like Hunter Schafer who spends a majority of the movie bruised and bandaged with her arm in a metal cast but nonetheless excels in a turn that’s as physical as it is emotional. Dan Stevens, now completing his trilogy of playing weirdos after Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire and Abigail, is as delightfully intimidating as he often can be in these types of movies, and he’s a fun villain to root against.

However, despite all that promising build-up, Cuckoo all but completely derails as soon as it reaches the halfway mark. Before we even get to the big reveal, which in and of itself becomes sillier and sillier as more is explained about it, some characters say and do things that to call ill-advised would be an understatement, others will suddenly reveal new motivations at the drop of a hat, and you’ll be asking yourself plenty of questions about the functionality of certain things that the film simply refuses to answer.

Parts of Singer’s script don’t even match the kind of world that it is establishing, for it initially suggests some Shining-like confrontations with this dysfunctional family at a secluded hotel, as well as a blossoming romance with one of the guests only for those elements to be either dropped entirely or at the very least shoved to the side in favour of much weirder stuff. It feels like it’s being weird for the sake of being weird, instead of serving as some kind of outlandish metaphor or an emotional gateway toward these characters, who are all but totally eclipsed by the growing nonsense within this script. Worst of all, it isn’t really that scary, for aside from a couple of notable sequences much of the horror is reserved for more typical jump-scares and freaky visuals that don’t amount to a whole lot.

It’s frustrating because you can clearly see how this film could be legitimately great, if it just wasn’t so consumed by the need to fill every checkbox for the typical elevated horror. Weird supernatural presence? Check. Retro aesthetic that makes viewers wonder if it’s modern-day or not? Check. A deranged villain performance by a popular character actor? Check and check. You almost get the feeling that Singer is aiming for his film to be considered a cult classic by future viewers, for it carries a lot of campy and over-the-top qualities that audiences would ironically or unironically fawn over, but by effectively forcing such a status instead of letting it become one naturally, Cuckoo simply feels irritatingly outlandish for no good reason.

Again, I do not think that it is an awful film, but Cuckoo could easily have deserved its cult horror film status were it not for the fact that it’s not quite as sophisticated or even as horrific as it thinks it is.

SO, TO SUM UP…

Cuckoo has a promising build-up, bolstered by some well-shot sequences and strong performances, but it quickly falls apart by an increasingly nonsensical and unscary script that feels like it’s trying too hard to be a cult classic.