Monsters, disaffected teens, and Dan Stevens. What more could you want?
When it comes to genre films, whether horror or action, it’s understood, even by us fans, that there are ultimately only a handful of basic stories out there. The beauty and the fun comes in seeing how filmmakers make those familiar narratives their own and how they execute them into something memorable and entertaining. That said, there’s a particular thrill that raises the hair on my arms when I realize I’m watching something that’s both well-made and courageous enough to be taking a step along the road less traveled. Cuckoo is that kind of cheeky, original horror — to the point that it’s guaranteed to lose some of you — and it cooks up something special within the otherwise expected trappings.
Gretchen (Hunter Schafer) arrives at her new home in the Bavarian Alps with her father, step-mother, and young step-sister, and she’s clearly not all the happy about it. She’d rather be living back in the States, but that’s no longer an option after the death of her mother. Her desire to leave grows almost immediately when she begins meeting the small mountain resort’s residents. There’s the deliriously weird Mr. König (Dan Stevens) who runs the place. There’s the rogue policeman, Henry (Jan Bluthardt), who has a strange theory as to the resort’s true purpose. There are young women acting dazed and vomiting late at night. And then there’s the hooded figure who seems very, very intent on killing Gretchen.
I’m leaving the synopsis intentionally vague knowing full well that it sounds like a hundred other movies that see unsuspecting protagonists arriving in a small town up to no good, but I promise you, writer/director Tilman Singer ain’t here for the normies. His inspirations for Cuckoo are evident, from Argento to Verbinski, but the execution and imagination are all Singer, making for a horror film that moves with grace and style from scares to laughs, and from thrills to real emotion — all while being just a little bit bonkers.
There’s no getting around the fact that the core idea here is maybe a little silly — potentially too silly for some — but there’s a commitment to the bit, from everyone on both sides of the camera, and you’re either on board or missing out on one hell of a fun ride. It’s the kind of big swing we don’t see often enough. Creature feature elements combine with mad science motifs for a story about the importance and power of family in our lives, for better and worse. Gretchen gives repeated resistance to the idea that little Alma (Mila Lieu) be identified as her “sister” because she’s actually a stepsister, from a stepmother (Jessica Henwick), and both are causing friction with her father (Marton Csokas). But what do these labels ultimately mean? Is a parent/guardian the one who created you, the one by your side now, or the one who shows up later when you need them the most?
Singer infuses Cuckoo with style, backed up with visuals both beautiful and striking courtesy of cinematographer Paul Faltz. One early scene sees Gretchen riding her bike at night, the world silenced by her headphones, as the hooded figure draws near. We see the distance between them tighten via shadows on the ground captured in a steady pulse of streetlamp lights, and it’s a suspenseful and tense sequence teasing a dark truth in pursuit of the teenager. Sound design plays an equally important role here, as the throaty calls of the hooded figure grow closer and more alarming and the eerily empty landscapes echo back in terror. Later set pieces deliver more fun thrills, and the connective tissue between them is made up of a combination of personality, weirdness, and some surprising turns.
It won’t surprise anyone, though, that Stevens is a charismatic menace here with his self-described “preservationist,” and he gets to shift a quietly threatening character into someone more action-oriented resulting in some unexpected third-act antics. The supporting cast is strong across the board, but ultimately, this is Schafer’s show, and she absolutely kills it. Her character is put through the wringer, but she’s a beast moving from the humorous to the affecting to the heroic. You’re cheering her on through this goofy, goo-filled nightmare, and you won’t want it any other way.
Cuckoo is an undeniably fun slice of horror and a film that encourages empathy across natural and artificial barriers as a monster movie doing double duty as a family dramedy. Absurd on its face but imaginative, sincere, and beautifully made, this is that rare bird in the horror genre that colors outside the box and has a blast doing so.
The 28th edition of the Fantasia International Film Festival runs July 18th to August 4th in beautiful Montreal, Quebec. Follow along with our coverage here.