Hunter Schafer (Euphoria) and a German-speaking Dan Stevens (The Guest) lead writer-director Tilman Singer’s Cuckoo, a wildly off-kilter horror film set in the German Alps. This is Singer’s sophomore feature after his 2018 debut Luz, which also delved into subversive horror, mainly in the supernatural. However, in Cuckoo, the German filmmaker now begins to toy with a mix of body horror and the psychological to great effect.
The young Gretchen (Schafer) travels with her father Luis (Marton Csokas) and his stepfamily to a grand Alpine resort in Germany, aptly named “Alpenplatz.” The establishment is run by the incredibly friendly Herr König (Dan Stevens), who has summoned Gretchen’s dad to help build a new part of the hotel. The Alpenplatz is surrounded by beautiful, looming mountains and a dense forest — the ideal setting for a horror movie, of course.
Gretchen feels little connection to her stepmother Beth (Jessica Henwick) and her 7-year-old stepsister Alma (Mila Lieu), so when offered a job at the hotel upon arrival she quickly accepts to make some money and stay away from her new family. The adolescent loner begins dealing with the visiting guests per usual business, but it’s not long before she starts to experience many peculiar occurrences. Things spiral as Gretchen decides to ignore Herr König’s warning to not take the night shift, he’s mysteriously adamant that she works only during the day. Things quickly escalate from here, leading Gretchen to a terrifying surprise that comes from the dark countryside beyond the resort’s walls.
Cuckoo makes some surprisingly inventive choices when it comes to editing, especially in the build-up to its jump scares. Editors Terel Gibson and Philipp Thomas utilize unconventional methods to create nail-biting tension that cuts right into the viewer’s nerves. By breaking linear editing rules, the film’s unique editing style puts the audience on edge as the creatures of the Bavarian forests emerge at night. The sound design is also pivotal as there are repeated scenes of unnerving vibrations from the forest — every time a certain, uncanny screeching occurs, something terrible happens. Gretchen and the audience learn this quickly.
Tilman Singer’s film is undoubtedly very well-made, no less thanks to Luz cinematographer Paul Faltz. Singer and Faltz conjure shocking images that will be stuck in spectators’ minds for years to come. Faltz uses the eerie setting of the Bavarian Alps tremendously, every glance at the trees and every shadow evokes a sense of dread in the viewer as the plot progresses. Additionally, Cuckoo is shot on 35mm film, giving it a more nostalgic, vintage-like feel that aligns the movie neatly with a lot of its genre inspirations.
The script at hand finds a fine balance between the wacky and the scary. Dan Stevens is deliciously dark and charming as the hotel’s owner, not only does he speak with a near-perfect German accent but he also is quite hilarious. Coming off her supporting role in The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes, Hunter Schafer gives a thrilling performance in her first leading film role as she embraces the absurd yet horrifying nature of the monsters her character faces. Gretchen flaunts this cool, tough girl persona effortlessly. Gretchen’s brash nature, though, can be both her downfall and salvation at times. Stevens and Schafer pair well with their contrasting sensibilities, which makes for a riveting protagonist and antagonist face-off in the end.
Inspired by cuckoo birds — known as brood parasites who lay their eggs in the nests of other species and let them raise their young instead — the film’s underlying narrative has all to do with childhood trauma. Gretchen repeatedly calls out to her dead mother out of desperation to leave her so-called family behind. Still, director Tilman Singer closes Cuckoo on a tender note that sees Gretchen come to accept her stepsister whom she previously resented. Their bond is genuine, despite their major differences. This realization allows Schafer’s protagonist to relieve herself of the trauma weighing her down, allowing her to escape freely from the dangers at Alpenplatz.
Visual effects and make-up work together in unison to create the film’s main blonde-wigged monster. The realism of a human body but with zombie-like features and movement makes for a bone-chilling experience every time this strange hooded woman appears. Each glimpse at the monster ups the levels of stress as the audience attempts to figure out the reasoning behind this creature’s existence. Moreover, the main draw to the story that will keep people hooked is the secret connection between the creature and Gretchen, and how it tries to systematically hunt Schafer’s protagonist down.
Backed by its stellar sound design, inspired cinematography, and a piercing atmospheric score by Simon Waskow, Cuckoo is a formidable second feature from Tilman Singer. The third act, admittedly, delves into a little bit too much exposition in terms of explaining the monster and the mysteries surrounding the Alpenplatz resort. However, it makes up for this with a gnarly, action-packed fight between a butterfly knife-wielding Gretchen and the wigged-woman-like creature. While not entirely new story-wise, Cuckoo still works as an inventive psychological body horror that is sure to scare the living daylights out of modern horror fans.
Release Date: May 3, 2024.
Directed by Tilman Singer.
Written by Tilman Singer.
Produced by Ken Kao, Josh Rosenbaum, Markus Halberschmidt, Maria Tsigka, & Thor Bradwell.
Main Cast: Hunter Schafer, Dan Stevens, Jessica Henwick, Jan Bluthardt, Marton Csokas, Greta Fernández, Àstrid Bergès-Frisbey, Konrad Singer, Proschat Madani, & Kalin Morrow.
Cinematographer: Paul Faltz.
Composer: Simon Waskow.
Production Companies: Fiction Park & Waypoint Entertainment.
Distributor: Neon.
Runtime: 102 minutes.
Rated: R.
