First, let’s make one thing clear: I don’t understand a whole lot of what happens in the new indie horror film “Cuckoo,” which hits theaters Friday.
This may be more my problem than the storytelling, but there are a lot of strange things going on at this particular alpine resort. It’s run by bespectacled German hotelier Herr Koenig, played with a peculiar flair by Dan Stevens.
Some events are not explained, while others are not explored. Herr König seems particularly concerned about the events that occur after dark, but not as concerned about the guests staggering and vomiting in the reception and general store. Are they drunk? Sick? Should someone help them? All we get is: “It happens.” The hospital is also eerily empty. Sound vibrations frequently ripple through the land, causing scenes to repeat until reaching a violent climax. And no one seems to hear or care about anything 17-year-old Gretchen says, no matter how injured she is. The rapid progression of her injuries, and her father’s increasing indifference, approaches comedy.
Ambiguity can be wonderful for mystery and worldbuilding; it can also be frustrating. And often, elaborate explanations render everything useless. “Cuckoo” drowns in all of the above. Yet, it’s also undeniably charming, original and sometimes funny, in a very twisted and deranged way in which laughter is your involuntary response to something horrifying. In her captivating lead performance, Schafer really goes through it, both physically and emotionally.
It features Stevens in eerie Scandi-cool monochrome outfits with tiny, rimless glasses, and the screaming ghost with Hitchcockian glamour in a hooded trench and white-framed oval sunglasses. Embracing style is rarely a bad idea for a horror film, and “Cuckoo” fully commits to that.
“Cuckoo” is the brainchild of German director Tilman Singer, but it also owes itself to Singer’s predecessors: among them the works of David Lynch and Dario Argento. Gretchen is a reluctant resident of an idealized, modern home with her estranged father, stepmother and mute stepsister Alma. She constantly leaves desperate messages on her mother’s answering machine in America.
It’s certainly an exaggerated but apt portrayal of a new family, where the remnants of the old family are treated like rowdies. When Alma starts having seizures during a vibrator walk, which no one except Gretchen remembers or acknowledges, the parents’ attention shifts entirely to the little girl. They couldn’t care less about Gretchen’s miraculous survival from a terrible car accident; Alma is in the same hospital because of those events.
Like many horror stories, for this critic, the big reveals were a little disappointing — a strained attempt at a unifying theory for this strange place that ultimately doesn’t add up to much. And yet the emotional engagement with Gretchen and her complicated relationship with Alma pays off in unexpected ways.
Also, Stevens deserves special praise for his contributions to “Cuckoo.” This is a guy who could have easily stuck to flashy lead roles, but instead has become one of our finest character actors. He always excels and is memorable in whatever role he plays, simply because of his commitment, whether it’s his role as the Hawaiian shirt-wearing Titan vet in “Godzilla x Kong,” his Russian pop star in “Eurovision,” or his many deranged horror characters. He and Schaeffer, always a compelling presence, make “Cuckoo” so worthwhile. They exist so seamlessly in this dreamy, nightmarish world dreamed up by Singer that it’s worth seeing.
“Cuckoo,” a Neon release in theaters Friday, is rated R by the Motion Picture Association for “language, brief drug use by teens, bloody images, violence.” Duration: 102 minutes. Two-and-a-half stars out of four.
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