As someone who absolutely cannot stomach most horror films, I have a bad habit of acting like I can. Add one of my favorite actors into the mix, and I’ll sit through hours of a film that will undoubtedly haunt me after it’s over.
This silly practice is exactly what led me to watch Tilman Singer’s 2024 film, “Cuckoo.”
When I saw the trailer for “Cuckoo,” I was ecstatic to see Hunter Schafer starring as its lead.
As a long-time fan of Schafer’s work in “Euphoria” as the sweet and unpredictable character, Jules Vaughn, I have spent years impatiently waiting to see her in a new role.
Other than Schafer’s supporting role as Tigris in “The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes,” she had kept relatively quiet in the world of cinema. So, learning she was going to play a lead role was a wonderful surprise.
I settled in to watch this film on a cool fall night, knowing I was in for a frightening ride but willing to take the risk for Miss Hunter Schafer.
“Cuckoo” opens with a disturbing scene in which a teenage girl twitches uncontrollably, obviously in distress, and eventually sprints away from her home where her parents are violently arguing in German.
The audience has no idea what is happening but can infer this scene carries some significance for the plot and, at the very least, are immediately unsettled and intrigued.
We are then introduced to Gretchen (Hunter Schafer), a dispirited 17-year-old girl mourning the loss of her mother.
Gretchen’s father, Luis (Martin Csokas), coolly wedges her into his new family, consisting of his new, apathetic wife (Jessica Henwick) and Alma (Mila Lieu), her mute 8-year-old stepsister.
Luis moves his new haphazard family to his friend Herr König’s (Dan Stevens) resort, which is set in the Bavarian Alps. Things get weird fast.
When the resort owner offers Gretchen a job at the reception counter, she watches female guests act confused and strange, and there are multiple disturbing occurrences of vomiting. What makes things even more odd is the lack of a reaction from her coworker, Trixie (Greta Fernández).
Throughout the whole film, the audience experiences the uncanniness of knowing something is “off” but not quite being able to place it. We watch powerlessly as Gretchen’s family members and coworkers discredit her worries and complaints.
A horrifying woman dressed in a trench coat and wearing dark sunglasses, deemed “the hooded woman” by Letterboxd, frequently chases Gretchen and appears to want something from her. This eerie, powerful figure manipulates time and releases an incapacitating screech to paralyze her victims.
Singer employs dramatic irony deliciously in many moments throughout the film, but one of the most notable is the scene in which Gretchen is biking home in the dark, wearing headphones. We watch the hooded figure advance on a clueless Gretchen, and the suspense is nearly unbearable.
After that fearful moment, Gretchen continually hears ominous screeches, has disorienting visions and faces frightening experiences no one believes. By the end of the film, Gretchen has acquired a collection of injuries and fights to keep Alma and herself alive.
According to Letterboxd, Singer’s film, “Luz,” was “an homage to 1980s European horror films.” The influence of European horror shines through similarly in “Cuckoo’s” subtlety, introspection and sexual undertones.
While many feel the plot of “Cuckoo” leaves too many loose ends or does not carry through on the many possibilities it conceives, I will defend this film with my whole chest. I feel that part of the film’s success and depth can be attributed to the wonderings it leaves its audience with.
From Schafer’s spectacular performance, to the queer representation that (gasp) isn’t the entire premise of the film, to the thought-prompting themes of motherhood, sisterhood and power dynamics, “Cuckoo” offers something fresh to the horror realm.
If you find yourself inspired to watch “Cuckoo,” you can stream it on Hulu with a regular subscription.
O’Brien can be reached at [email protected].
