Film Review: Cuckoo
Score: 2.5/4
Tilman Singer’s Cuckoo is the new word-of-mouth horror film to emerge from Neon. In a season where Longlegs, from the same studio, has become a surprise blockbuster, the comparison is inevitable. Yet, to give the far weirder and (intentionally) funnier Cuckoo proper credit, Singer’s multi-genre thriller succeeds largely because it’s impossible to predict where it’s going.
Hunter Schafer stars as Gretchen, a teen whose family has relocated to the Bavarian Alps of Germany. At some sort of mountainside resort, Gretchen, her father, stepmother, and stepsister are greeted by an ingratiating and deeply sinister figure (played by Dan Stevens), who assures them they are welcome, but somehow comes across like a bad omen for what’s ahead.
Gretchen gets a job in a convenience store and almost immediately is haunted by a menacing figure: without spoiling anything, Gretchen’s stalker is a woman in an overcoat and glasses who lets out a piercing shriek. The real freakout detail is how this mysterious figure has eyes that glow red.
Schafer is a strong lead and, refreshingly, Gretchen is not a damsel in distress or a typical Final Girl- in fact, Gretchen frequently carries a switchblade that she brandishes often. Stevens is impressive in a performance that sets the tone and tempo for the whole film- his character is amusing but always suggests danger. Martin Csokas, who has one of the most intimidating faces in film, compellingly plays Gretchen’s dad.
Cuckoo is ostensibly an exploration of the destruction of families, with a disturbing opening scene depicting what appears to be a fight between two parents witnessed by an upset child.
There are massive tonal shifts throughout, which are surprising but smooth. At times, this plays like a screwball comedy. Then, it shifts to the soon-to-be-classic nighttime bike ride, a seriously scary set piece. Early on, a character asks, “Is this normal?” Excellent question. How strange is Cuckoo? It’s the first film since Alien: Covenant to weaponize a flute.
Cuckoo is being released by Neon, which is having a big year with the surprise hit Longlegs and has now established itself as the new A24, a shining beacon for genre fans and an indie film company/distributor to watch. Here’s what Cuckoo specifically has in common with Longlegs: they are brilliant at creating moods, showcase excellent performances, have a couple of unforgettable set pieces, and then fall apart at the end.
The culprit for the late-in-the-third-act stumble is an over-explained finale that is both too much and too little, a punchline to a long wind of a joke that was better in the telling than in the wrap-up. Or, the easier analogy is that both films are the vivid nightmares we wake from, grateful to be in our conscious selves, and then, as we explain the details to someone willing to listen, we realize how ridiculous it sounds. Some nightmares are better left without interpretation or explicit explanation. Both Longlegs and Cuckoo have this problem.
Some of the best scenes here are the disorienting moments when visual repetition and sound distortion take us off guard. The whole thing needed a tighter edit, especially the second act.
In the end, we’re left with an original, very weird, risk-taking, somewhat muddled experience that doesn’t settle for an easy interpretation. Is Cuckoo juggling multiple genres to explore the notion of stolen identity, broken families, and the literal or figurative notion of “twins”? I’m not entirely sure. Although it’s full of great moments and darkly funny, the finale is unsatisfying. Still, Singer is clearly a writer/director willing to take big chances and alter expectations for what could have just been a routine slasher film. I could keep describing Cuckoo in many ways, but “routine” isn’t one of them.
