Konig oozes sleaze and he has boundary issues, but Luis and Beth are blindly convinced he is good people. They are still awkward around Gretchen, since she used to live with her mother (obviously now deceased). However, they clearly pay more attention to her seven-year-old step-sister Alma, who is mysteriously mute.
Frankly, Gretchen is only too willing to get away from them, accepting a part-time job at the reception desk. However, Herr Konig is bizarrely adamant she must return home before nightfall. Before much time passes, she notices how often female guests suddenly start vomiting after their arrival. Her suspicions were already building, even before a mysterious hooded woman chases her home one night.
Yet, even when Gretchen winds up hospitalized with injuries, Alma still gets more attention for her sudden seizures. She is pretty sure Her Konig is somehow responsible for all the sinister business afoot, which Henry Landau, a disgraced ex-cop (who blames Konig for his wife’s tragic fate) confirms. Although he tries to forge an alliance with Gretchen, she instinctively recognizes he is too unstable to trust.
As a film, Cuckoo is also somewhat inconsistent, but it clicks much more often than it clunks. Dan Stevens is spectacularly sinister and clammy as Herr Konig, far eclipsing his flamboyant horror villains in Abigail and The Guest. Singer also keeps a steady stream of inventive weirdness coming. Did you know cuckoo birds are “brood parasites,” who stash their eggs in other birds’ nests? That turns out to be an important Cliff Clavin factoid that Singer makes much of.
