Cuckoo is a strange, clever, horror/thriller. It’s tight, with good economy of storytelling, fairly light on dialogue, effective location use and suitably bloody, without being overly graphic. Writer/director Tilman Singer tells a story that may feel sort of familiar, but does so with surprising wit and consistent tension. It is grimy, with really good performances that are perfect for the material. It’s compellingly bizarre and, like the strongest in the genre, doesn’t take too much time explaining itself (though it maybe could’ve used a little less). It is an unpredictable experience and one of the best horror movies so far this year.
It opens with Gretchen, a quiet, lonely, grieving teenager, moving with her father, his wife and their young daughter to a small village in Germany shortly after the death of her mother. Immediately, she notices that something is off. They are greeted by the owner of a local hotel, who is almost too welcoming. Then, Gretchen gets a job at the hotel and is warned not to be there at night. The weirdness mounts from there and that’s when she finds herself in danger.
Cuckoo (97 minutes, not including the end credits) doesn’t hide its terror. We know who the villain is within the first few minutes. It is the what and the why that is gradually revealed. This isn’t a mystery so much as a nightmare. Gretchen is far from home, with no home to return to, no one she can rely on and no idea what is going on. Regardless of what happens to her, she is ignored or blamed. Can she trust anyone? Is there any way she can survive this village? It is fascinating to see how Singer has this all play out.
Gretchen is played by Hunter Schafer with an internal fear and panic that rises the worse things get. She desperately misses her mother and feels like she is not a part of her father’s family. She has no relationship with his wife and refuses to acknowledge his daughter as her sister. She struggles to engage with others, wanting to be left alone to make some money so that perhaps she can leave this place. That’s before she gets attacked while riding her bike one night. Her battle against evil is a battle to be heard.
On the other side is Herr König, whose arrogance could not possibly make it clearer how much better he considers himself in comparison to everybody else. Just the way he pronounces Gretchen’s name oozes contempt. Dan Stevens is tremendous in the role, using his German accent like a weapon. The fact that Gretchen seems to be the only person who finds him ominous shows the power he has in this town. There is absolutely no subtlety in Stevens’ performance. That makes it all the more entertaining. A lot of the (very dark) humor comes from his reactions/line readings.
Singer gives his actors a lot of space to interact with the freaky developments and (even more importantly) their location. Though the hotel and its surrounding bungalows, as well as the neighboring hospital, aren’t exactly mapped out onscreen, their isolation and near emptiness infuses the story with dread. Gretchen is either physically or emotionally alone at all times, so it is inherently scary seeing her ride her bike at night or working the hotel front desk by herself. Something terrible is taking place in this small town. The viewer learns this through atmosphere before it is revealed through plot.
Cuckoo has a lot of atmosphere. That plus the grittiness of the style, the performances and the pace make up for some confusion in the story department. Tilman Singer has made something bold, interesting and oddly enjoyable. Genre fans should definitely give this a look.
4 out of 5
Cast:
Hunter Schafer as Gretchen
Dan Stevens as Herr König
Jan Bluthardt as Henry
Márton Csókás as Luis
Jessica Henwick as Beth
Mila Lieu as Alma
Written/Directed by Tilman Singer
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