“Why would you have heard about me?” –Gretchen
Tilman Singer crafts an enthralling, bizarre, and campy body horror creature feature in Cuckoo.
The film stars Hunter Schafer in her first lead role as Gretchen, a 17-year-old who moves in with her father, stepmother, and half-sister after losing her mother. She leaves America for the German Alps, where her father and stepmother are hired to do designing for a resort they had worked on with the owner, Herr König (Dan Stevens). Gretchen unwillingly left behind her band, friends, and sense of normalcy just to stumble right into a nest of monstrosity.
Between joining her father’s family and being trapped in Germany, Gretchen is a fish out of water, looking for any way to return home. Her father continuously disregards her feelings in favour of paying more attention to her half-sister, Alma. Feeling secluded, she accepts Herr’s offer to work at the resort. It sits upon an isolated, lush landscape surrounded by snow-capped mountains and vivid green trees, exactly as you’d see on a retro postcard. Every detail conveys an unsettling perfection, looking too tailored and polished on the surface—the superficial exterior concealing the corruption beneath it. What begins as an inviting place of solace quickly becomes a nightmare as the dark creeps in and the facade crumbles.
The cinematography is absolutely stunning, particularly the first sequence where we meet the creature. The film was shot on 35mm, which brings a dream-like, hazy quality to the compositions. It’s reminiscent of films that were a turning point in the horror genre, like Carrie and Rosemary’s Baby. The Lover’s Nest, the discounted bungalow at the resort for couples, has a gorgeous 1970s-era sheen. Adorned in baby pinks, soft yellows, floral wallpaper, and mid-century modern furniture, it exudes comfort. The creature is even dressed like a retro off-duty starlet with her trench coat, oversized oval sunglasses, and pin curls—think Sophia Loren or Jackie Kennedy. These endearingly familiar, warm details starkly contrast the dreary tension in the atmosphere and the skin-crawling truth of the creature’s look. The playfully harsh sound design elevates the disorienting nature of the beast, keeping us trapped in a loop as the terror claws its way into our heads.
While the horror elements hit, Cuckoo is not trying to take itself too seriously. It treads a line of thrill and silliness to create a fun summertime theatre watch. I saw the twists and turns coming. It’s hard not to realize quickly when you know a bit about cuckoo birds, and seeds of certain twists are planted from the very beginning, but it was still satisfying to watch how the story unfolds from Gretchen’s perspective. The screenplay is imperfect, but it works for the film’s tone. The performances show that they knew exactly what kind of movie they were working with and that every beat from Singer was intentional.
A butterfly knife-wielding Schafer delivers a powerhouse performance—beginning as a bumbling, angsty teenager and hatching into a modern action-horror heroine. Schafer masterfully navigates the palpable grief, comedic timing, and fierce determination needed to embody Gretchen. I’m beyond impressed with her as a leading lady, especially in a film so different from anything in her body of work. Dan Stevens is, unsurprisingly, the other standout as the unsettlingly friendly resort owner and self-proclaimed “preservationist.” His German accent is on point, allowing his character to have a touch of wickedly entertaining camp without ever losing his air of malice. In every scene he’s in, his sinister presence is felt, even under the guise of hospitality.
We understand how profound Gretchen’s grief is through vignettes of voicemails she leaves on her family phone back in the States. This leads to the emotionally satisfying climax that gives Gretchen a chance to accept Alma as her sister and go above and beyond to keep her safe. The emotional throughline of the loss of her previous life with her mother to the new family and reality that she struggles to embrace (although her dad and step-mom take a backseat in the second half of the film) resonates deeply.
Cuckoo might not be the most coherent film plot-wise and overcomplicates itself in the end, but it’s still a fun entry to the horror genre. Aside from a slightly messy screenplay, the other pieces, including the sound design, direction, cinematography, and performances are exquisitely crafted. It’s a modern creature feature that pays homage to the horror genre, with Singer building his take with striking emotional elements and campy undertones. It’s bursting with a unique voice and an excess of style, and I’m fond of ambitious films bound to reach cult classic status. NEON has been distributing an array of interesting horror films, and I will keep an eye out for what comes next from them and Singer.
Note to casting directors: we need to see Hunter Schafer in more leading roles!
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