The cuckoo is a distinctive bird – it has a melodic call from which its name is derived, but more infamous is the species’ modus operendi, whereby they lay their eggs in the nest of other birds, who unsuspectingly raise the cuckoo chicks as their own, at the expense of their biological offspring. This unique trait makes the cuckoo an unwittingly cruel creature, ripe for pop culture transformation into something kmore sinister than a small parasitic avian species.
This occurs in Tilman Singer’s sophomore feature, in which 17-year-old Gretchen (Hunter Schafer), still grieving the death of her mother, is forced to relocate with her father Luis (Marton Csokas), step-mother Beth (Jessica Henwick) and mute half-sister Alma (Mila Lieu) to a remote resort in the Alps, where the adults are overseeing the construction of a new building. The family are warmly greeted by the resort’s cheerfully sinister owner Herr König (Dan Stevens relishing another chance to get weird) but Gretchen is less than enthused about the prospect of being stuck in new country with her previously estranged guardians.
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On top of her personal upheaval, Gretchen has the sense that something strange is going on at Alpshatten. She is pursued by a strange woman at night, one of the resort’s guests starts acting bizarrely, and Alma lashes out at her after having an unexpected seizure. A chance meeting with French femme fatale Ed (Astrid Bergès-Frisbey) sees Gretchen impulsively attempt to run away – things only get worse from there, as a detective starts sniffing around and the extent of Herr König’s quasi-ornithological interests becomes apparent.
While Hunter Schafer makes for a great Final Girl and Dan Stevens is on top form leaning into his knack for playing offputting weirdos, Cuckoo suffers from an ambiguity that hinders the story, unable to reconcile the comedic elements of the plot with the unsettling. There’s also a tonal clash between the grainy, 70s cinematography and the contemporary setting, which emphasises the awkward mix of ideas which don’t gel together satisfyingly. After establishing an unsettling slow burn, Singer has to deliver a slew of confusing exposition in the film’s final half-hour which doesn’t really explain the particulars of the supernatural creatures we’ve spent the past hour being warned about.
While it’s very much possible to create an effective horror film without investing too much in lore, Cuckoo does feel like it would have benefitted from giving us more of an idea as to what exactly the purpose of Herr König’s sinister ‘breeding programme’ is. There’s some general hand-waving about his keen interest in conservation, but the script creates more questions than answers in a matter that ultimately feels unsatisfying rather than unnerving.
Still, Singer is a wonderfully imaginative filmmaker, paying homage to giants of the genre world including The Wicker Man, Rosemary’s Baby and Village of the Damned. It’s a thoughtfully produced film, but one that lacks on the story front, as fun as some of the more bizarro moments are.
