Cuckoo

Grade: C+

The opening scene of Cuckoo gives away a major plot point that is revealed later. I heard about this before I saw the movie, so I figured I was prepared. I hunkered down and really paid attention, thinking for sure I’d crack the case early. It slipped by me, and I didn’t put two and two together. It’s one of several clever elements of the movie. A big clue can hide in plain sight, and I knew about it in advance, but still didn’t detect it. It’s all the more unfortunate that Cuckoo ultimately doesn’t work.

Hunter Schafer doesn’t have a gigantic resume yet, but it’s an impressive one. I’ve never watched Euphoria, but in the last 9 months alone, I saw her in Kinds of Kindness and The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes. As the star of Cuckoo, she gives us quite an arc. She is a brooding, mopey teenager, nervous and awkward at her newfound hotel front desk job, and then gets resilient and confident as she deals with what she ends up having to deal with. And she gets put through the wringer. She bangs her head on a glass door, and breaks at least one arm. All of this happens on three separate occasions.

She plays Gretchen, who, following her mother’s death, moves with her father, stepmother, and younger mute half sister to the Bavarian Alps. The family is there to help build a new resort. The man overseeing everything is Herr König, played by the wonderful Dan Stevens. He provided voice talent for The Boy and the Heron, and earlier this year, I singled him out as a highlight in Abigail. He gets her the front desk gig. Something isn’t right. Strange events begin happening, which include multiple women vomiting, and her sister suffering seizures brought on by an odd reverberating screeching sound. It’s almost more fun when we’re still in the dark about what’s going on.

The movie contains many individual elements that I loved. Writer/director Tilman Singer creates a marvelous Euro horror atmosphere. It’s an indie feel that’s rough around the edges, and it’s great. I will add my voice to the chorus of critics who have been praising that scene where Schafer is riding her bike at night. We are shown little bits and pieces of something in the pools of light from the street lamps, and it’s unsettling. Sadly, though, all its good parts don’t add up or aren’t enough to sustain it to push it into greatness. You could show numerous scenes from Cuckoo in a film class, but not so much in a screenwriting class.

When it comes to movies, Cuckoo is one of those, excuse me, strange birds that is simultaneously half-baked and over-baked. The plot finally gets explained in one of the longest explanations that explainers have ever explained – as if Singer is thinking “I bet my audience is so confused. I’d better tell them everything about what’s going on.” We find out, and somehow it’s not enough, or satisfying. It would have been better if the mystery had been left intact. I’m not recommending Cuckoo, but it’s not a bad movie – just an unfocused, misguided one.

Grade: C+