Cuckoo

Director: Tilman Singer
Starring: Hunter Schafer, Jan Bluthardt, Martin Csokis, Jessica Henwick, Dan Stevens, Mila Lieu, Greta Fernández, Proschat Madani, Àstrid Bergès-Frisbey, Konrad Singer, Kalin Morrow
Running Time: 103 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)  

The highest compliment that can be paid to writer/director Tilman Singer's unusually ambitious Cuckoo is how this German/U.S. co-production feels more like a foreign horror film than your typical mainstream American release. It doesn't take long to notice there's something noticeably different about Singer's semi-international feature, which injects its bizarre story with genuine suspense and scares, regardless of how seriously you choose to take it. Every shot serves a purpose, only making it easier to buy this ludicrous but clever premise that plays fairly within the rules of its own demented universe. 

Even when the wild explanations start coming, Singer weaves together a compelling psychological thriller few would assume was possible based on its wacky plot description alone. Connecting on nearly every level, it absorbs us in the isolation of a teen protagonist whose own family wants little to do with her. But the feeling's mutual, up to and including when a lunatic's dangerous supernatural experiment wrecks havoc.

Following her mother's recent death, a still grieving 17-year-old Gretchen (Hunter Schafer) moves to the Bavarian Alps in Germany to live with her father Luis (Marton Csokis), stepmother Beth (Jessica Henwick) and mute half-sister Alma (Mila Lieu). Settling in a resort town to help build a new hotel run by the mysteriously intrusive, ever present Herr König (Dan Stevens), the family sees Gretchen's arrival as a major inconvenience, even going so far as to hold her presence responsible for Alma's increasing seizures. 

Soon after König sets Gretchen up with a job working the hotel's front desk, she starts witnessing strange occurrences, such as guests inexplicably vomiting in the lobby. But when she's chased by a screeching hooded woman after hours, the frightening encounter leads a detective named Henry (Jan Bluthardt) to enlist her help in finding the creepy attacker. Little does Gretchen know that it all leads back to König and his control over Alma. 

What's happening with Alma extends far beyond a chronic medical condition, but for Gretchen, banishment to the boredom of working the front desk seems preferable to spending another minute at home. But it's really when she forms a bond with female guest named Ed (Àstrid Bergès-Frisbey) that things suddenly go from bad to weird, derailing whatever plans she had to escape her nightmare of a family.  

Gretchen is put through the emotional and physical wringer almost from the moment she arrives to live with Luis and Beth, who both view her as a burden. In a sling and head bandage for most of the picture, Euphoria star Schafer gives about as engrossing and intense a performance as anyone could in their first feature lead turn, grounding what should be pure absurdity in the emotional hurt of a misunderstood, neglected teen. The real enemy isn't who Gretchen assumes, allowing her to evolve over the course of the film, eventually ending up in a far different place than where she began.

Digging into Gretchen's trauma without explicitly calling attention it, Singer lets Schafer's demeanor and body language do most of the heavy lifting. And she'll need to since everything that follows her night time altercation with the hooded woman is insane, as are its ties to König's elaborate plan involving parasites, flutes, slime, time warps, breeding, and of course, cuckoo birds. It's enough to make Charles Darwin spin in his grave, faltering only slightly in moments where Singer's script is required to explain it. But he even fares reasonably well there, powering through those details in a style that doesn't detract from the gritty atmosphere.

As the bearded, bespeckled mad scientist König, an unrecognizable Dan Stevens so deeply immerses himself into this character that viewers might instead assume they're watching an unknown German actor. Alternating between mild mannered host and aspiring Bond villain within a single scene, Stevens plays it politely subdued most of the way through, at least until König's experiment is compromised, enabling him to really unravel and cut loose. Jessica Henwick slides into a smaller, less significant role as the uncaring Beth while German actors Csokis and Bluthardt each impress in their increasingly pivotal parts.

With a story that surrounds an enigmatic scientist's hold over their young subject, Cuckoo carries echoes of Beyond The Black Rainbow and Stranger Things, making for an experience more immersive than the sum of its sillier parts. Too inventive and hypnotizing to casually dismiss, this doesn't exactly break the mold, but succeeds by wrapping its eccentric concept around smartly written characters defined by the craziness engulfing them.