By MICHAEL GINGOLD

Starring Hunter Schafer, Dan Stevens and Jan Bluthardt
Written and directed by Tilman Singer
Neon

It was six years ago that Tilman Singer’s debut feature LUZ became a breakout hit of the Fantasia International Film Festival, so what better place than the Canadian event to take in Singer’s follow-up CUCKOO with a packed house? Although it’s told as a somewhat more straightforward narrative than the surreal, experimental LUZ, the new movie nonetheless gets pretty bugnuts. When a detective asks its teenage heroine about a strange event of the previous night, her response of “Which one?” is entirely appropriate.

Opening theatrically next Friday, August 9, CUCKOO stars EUPHORIA’s Hunter Schafer as that young protagonist, Gretchen, who travels to the Bavarian Alps with her divorced dad Luis (Marton Csókás), stepmom Beth (Jessica Henwick) and mute little stepsister Alma (Mila Lieu). Her hair styled like a shield against the outside world, Gretchen isn’t happy about having left her mother behind in the U.S., and the stranger-in-a-strange land vibes are pronounced right from the start. Particularly odd is Herr König, for whom Luis and Beth are redesigning the local Resort Alpschatten, and who is played by Dan Stevens in an instant-classic eccentric/menacing turn. Speaking in a German-touched-with-Swiss accent that comes across as persuasive yet parodistic at the same time, König is ubiquitous and insinuating and hires Gretchen on as a desk clerk. The weirdness begins her very first night on the job, and things only get more bizarre from there.

Singer builds great off-kilter atmosphere from early on in CUCKOO, from visual choices (a potential jump-scare is shot from behind the scarer) to info drops (Alma was a case of vanishing twin syndrome). Rich visuals courtesy of cinematographer Paul Faltz, who filmed in 35mm, and a widely varied yet consistently discomfiting score by Simon Waskow help immerse the audience in Gretchen’s new environment, where anything strange and frightening can happen and probably will. A pulsing, recurring sound with an undetectable source causes her surroundings to vibrate and brief time loops, while a freaky hooded woman repeatedly attacks and pursues her. As Gretchen’s world goes crazy and Luis and Beth offer little help or reassurance–they’re more concerned with seizures afflicting Alma– local detective Henry (Jan Bluthardt) becomes Gretchen’s only ally, and even he may not be entirely trustworthy.

There’s a lot more going on in CUCKOO, and part of its enjoyment comes from simply anticipating what insane turn the movie will take next. The movie’s title proves to have a couple of meanings as the plot unfolds in various deranged ways, and it all makes a certain amount of sense if you think enough about it afterward (or, like this reviewer, you see it more than once). And you can appreciate CUCKOO just as much if you simply let all the weirdness wash over you, as Singer and his team (many encoring from LUZ) have fully committed to his nutty vision. Production designer Dario Mendez Acosta should also be noted for the many evocative settings he has contributed, among them a pink-decorated resort bungalow called The Lover’s Nest that’s right out of a David Lynch movie.

A few other cinematic quotations are scattered throughout CUCKOO, including a brief passage that directly recalls Dario Argento’s SUSPIRIA, yet Singer’s cockeyed narrative and stylistic approach are very much his own. Setting domestic tension, body horror, perverted science and hallucinatory imagery to collide in showy, splattery, outrageously entertaining ways, he keeps you on edge, sometimes deeply scared, sometimes amused by the more out-there moments, always caught up in Gretchen’s living nightmare. It helps to have such an empathetic young lead as Schafer holding the center, projecting vulnerability, defiance and protectiveness toward Alma as Gretchen navigates past and present trauma, attempting to leave and then just survive, always engaging our sympathy and interest. Even as events spiral out of control around her, and CUCKOO ultimately doesn’t know quite when to quit as it reaches its climax, Schafer keeps you watching–and you certainly wouldn’t want any restraints put on Singer and his singularly outré approach to the horror genre.