All is not what it seems to be in the Bavarian Alps – at least that’s what the protagonist of Cuckoo, the most recent film by Tilman Singer, begins to realise as she travels with her family to this remote corner of Europe, where they will be taking up residence as her parents start working with a mysterious real estate developer to construct a new, state-of-the-art resort, but to the chagrin of their teenage daughter, who exists in a perpetual puddle of angst and ennui as she is forced to be isolated, only being kept company by the eccentric residents of this small hamlet – until she unearths a sinister conspiracy that proves to be far more realistic than she had initially anticipated. As someone positioning himself as an exciting new voice in contemporary horror, Singer follows his acclaimed feature directorial debut Luz with this film, which is certainly a fascinating project, albeit not one that is always as interested in following through on every one of its ambitious ideas to fruition, often falling short right where we expected it to thrive, which is an unfortunate occurrence considering the amount of ambition the director brings to this story. Having echoes of several prior horror films, such as The Shining and The Fly (amongst many others), the film is a bizarre curio of contemporary terror filmmaking, pieced together through several disjointed fragments that come together to form something somewhat cohesive, even if only marginally and through a lot of laborious effort. Singer has acquired a degree of credibility, despite having a relatively scanty body of work, but his audacity as a storyteller is what audiences are drawn to, and despite some of its clear shortcomings, it is understandably why Cuckoo has been quietly positioned as one of the year’s most daring journeys into horror – and whether or not it earns such a reputation is a matter of opinion, and one that I am personally not entirely convinced is the case, despite the abundance of resourceful ideas that govern this otherwise peculiar film.

Criticizing a horror film for being too abstract and off-the-wall is almost entirely counterproductive to the genre as a whole since it is the one style of storytelling where deviation from the status quo is not only accepted or encouraged, but entirely necessary. The story of a teenage girl venturing into the dense forests of Western Europe and encountering a range of strange individuals that all seem to be connected to some sinister plot, to which our protagonist needs to find a solution, is one that immediately grabs our interest, even if the premise itself is not entirely accurate to the true scope of the material and what it represents. Several fascinating aspects drive this film – primarily, it follows in the tradition of films that are inspired by the work of Franz Kafka, who here lingers as a spectre that guides the narrative and takes it in unique directions through how Singer seems to be in dialogue with the previous writer’s work, restricting his contact between the works that inspired this film, and the unique elements he brings to the film. This is designed to be a tense psychological drama that evokes a sense of alienation, albeit in a very different setting from where we have seen these films take place in the past. The Bavarian Alps are the perfect setting for this kind of story since it inherently has a sense of spookiness and unease from how to remove the villages peppered across the region, as well as being some of the most beautiful landscapes in the world, which is why Singer seemed so compelled to take advantage of the region, showcasing both its natural beauty and its inherent sense of dread. As an atmospheric piece, Cuckoo is marvellous – when it comes time to handle the unwieldy, overly-dense narrative it begins to take shape and become something quite special in how it explores themes of loneliness, identity and family, all of which are woven together to create something truly captivating.

While it isn’t designed to be a character-driven film, Cuckoo still features a strong set of performances, which is assembled from a multinational group of actors, each one matched to fit a specific archetype reflected in the story. The film is told from the perspective of the character portrayed by Hunter Schafer, who appears to be an ordinary teenager looking forward to finally reaching adulthood, which comes to an end when she realizes the challenges that stand ahead of her. Schafer is a mercilessly gifted performer, and from her first acting role many years ago to the present moment, she has spent her career making bold choices that reflect her desire to be more than just a statuesque presence, but rather a dynamic presence, which she has proven in supporting roles for years. Cuckoo presents her with the opportunity to lead a film, which she does exceptionally well. Playing the rational-thinking protagonist in a film about madness and delusion is not an easy task, but Schafer is more than willing to leap, embracing every challenge with vigour and fearlessness that is difficult to find with young actors, proving to be a fantastic lead that drives this narrative forward. The supporting cast is solid but not entirely memorable, with the sole exception of Dan Stevens, who adds yet another strange character to his career, which is peppered with these peculiar figures that make good use of his dashing good looks and undeniable charisma. Here he is playing the deranged owner of the property on which the events take place, and he walks the narrow tightrope between overly charming and outright grotesque, and manages to be one of the most unforgettable aspects of this entire film, especially when both he and Schafer can fully embrace the complex aspects of the characters, giving depth and nuance to this film and elevating it beyond a run-of-the-mill psychological horror.

Unfortunately, despite the effort put into it by the entire cast (Schafer and Stevens in particular), Cuckoo does begin to fall apart not too long into its already overlong running time and ultimately proves to have some severe shortcomings that the film doesn’t quite know how to handle. The premise of this film is excellent, but it’s not enough to have a good idea, but rather have the skill to bring it to life on screen without vigour and genuine belief in knowing what the film intends to convey. This leads us to the second point, which is that this film quite simply does not have anything to stay. A horror film with a message is not always compulsory, but it does have a strong premise that is customized with its bespoke qualities throughout, which is one way of describing the sometimes peculiar nature of this film and everything that it represents. Thirdly, what it does manage to introduce successfully begins to show signs of fault once the story kicks into gear and starts to grow into something far more engaging, even if only through the most limited of means. The film quite simply cannot hold our attention, and is instead focused on introducing new characters that bear very little resemblance to the plot, it chooses to elongate an already paltry narrative into something far worse and much more disturbing in its imagery. There are far too many risks taken with this material, and while none of them seem to point to a particular element that doesn’t allow the film to have much shape, instead being the result of about half a dozen unique storylines that are barely woven together, and end abruptly, proving how unnecessary they were during the global conflict and showing that there is constantly something to be done, none of which reflects in this film or anything that surrounded it in the lead up to its release.

It can be seen as perhaps premature to herald Cuckoo as a massively brilliant entry into the contemporary horror canon, but its ambition is nonetheless admirable and earns our respect, despite not always managing to hold our attention. Singer did take on a bit more than he seemed to handle, and its difficult to not look at the implications towards the source of the paranoia and eventual reveal of the conspiracy situated at the heart of the film seriously, but it does have enough confidence in itself to be able to hold our interest for the most part. Unfortunately, the film doesn’t always manage to follow through on all of its ambitious ideas, and while it can be admired for taking several bold swings, it ultimately proves to have diminishing returns. The flaws may outweigh the positive aspects in some moments, but at the very least Cuckoo is willing to take risks, which is increasingly rare within the genre. It’s not quite the disquieting, Kafkaesque existential thriller it wants to be, but rather a solidly crafted, slightly off-kilter psychological thriller that knows its intentions and works hard to realize them on screen. The unconventional style of storytelling does help make it stand out, and it can be viewed as an instance of style over substance, but for the most part, the film proves to be mostly quite engaging, even at its most predictable. Singer has a great eye for visual detail, and the willingness to buck tradition where it’s required, and with some chiselling, we can fashion his raw talent into something quite remarkable, as the gifts are there and simply need to be reworked into a more cohesive, meaningful form.