Sound and Music in Cuckoo (2024)
Treasurer Venesya Ko reviews and explores sound design within the incoming horror flick Cuckoo (2024), which sees Euphoria alum Hunter Schafer in her first lead role in a feature film.
Throughout its 103-minute runtime, Cuckoo (2024) relentlessly throws many strange and cacophonous horrors on its audience. While not all of the film’s attempts to impress horror fans might stick, it is impossible to leave the theatre without having enjoyed the unpredictable, surprisingly moving, and fun experience that Cuckoo turned out to be–or at the very least, appreciating Hunter Schafer’s performance as punk musician Gretchen.
A feverish, atmospheric film reminiscent of Dario Argento’s psychedelic works, Cuckoo follows Gretchen (Hunter Schafer), a young woman who reluctantly moves to a remote German Alps resort with her father, stepmother and half-sister, Alma. Despite its idyllic setting, the resort’s inhabitants, especially the overfamiliar Herr König, played by Dan Stevens–who is clearly having a great time playing a freak and putting on a funny German accent–slowly begin to sink their horrific claws onto Gretchen’s family. Worse, the place doesn’t just want her family to stay, it wants Gretchen dead.
Those who come into this film expecting jumpscares and beautiful cinematography will enjoy the beginning half of this film more. It is where a combination of the film’s hypnotic shots and excellent sound design shines, providing a wild and off-putting sensory experience (occasionally interrupted by a great rock soundtrack that includes Ethel Cain) to keep viewers on the edge of their seat while Gretchen attempts to escape her bizarre and terrifying situation.
However, I personally enjoyed the second half just as much despite the uneven pacing. While it did not wholly resolve all the questions presented in the first half, it provided a satisfying conclusion to Gretchen’s character, who is the moving force of the film.
Several binaries are introduced in the film, the most significant one being sound and music. The first half of Cuckoo expands on this through separation and interruptions. There is always distance between Gretchen and her family: the film even begins with her in a separate car with the movers, while the rest of her family drive ahead. In another instance, though the audience is able to see Gretchen, her father and stepmother all in the same frame, they are separated by glass; voices muffled. The film constantly emphasises the ‘outsider’ position Gretchen occupies in her family through its cinematography. She is with them physically, but she does not belong. To them, she is, as all the adults in the film—including her father—put it, only a “disruption”.
Moreover, each time Gretchen makes any attempt to bridge the emotional distance with her father or to gain an adult’s help and trust, loud sounds always interrupt—a knock, a scream, or the bone-chilling shrieks that rings in your ears long after the film ends—and reflect the lack of understanding the adults around her are willing to extend. The only reprieve from this frustrating cycle of neglect in Gretchen’s life, and the piercing sounds of the film, is music.
Music is the solace and tool Gretchen is able to reach for to counter the terror of sound in the film. And it does not seem coincidentally that music, which Gretchen finds comfort in, also serves as a medium for Gretchen to connect with people. In particular, her sister is the only person in her family who makes attempts to reach her and understand her. And it was quite touching to see their relationship progress, especially on Gretchen’s side as she began to use sign language more often to communicate with her sister, just as her sister tried to connect with her using music. It was not a direction I thought the film would take, but it was one I enjoyed. It was comforting to see that unlike the adults around them, Gretchen and Alma did not seek to use each other, only to accommodate one another.
The villain of the film places much emphasis on biology and blood relations. But Gretchen and Alma’s repeated attempts to reach each other and their decision to trust one another subvert his beliefs, and ultimately help them escape from the ‘adult’ world that manipulates and harms them. The antagonism between children and the adults is yet another theme that runs throughout Cuckoo, but it is one the film refuses to delve further into. I would’ve also preferred if the film had taken the time to explore what I regard as the actual horror of the film–women and girls having things done to them without their consent or knowledge–but it was unfortunately glossed over.
It is slightly disappointing, but tying its many plot points together and providing a nuanced answer is not the film’s strength. If you preoccupy yourself with finding a single meaning or fixate on all the missed opportunities, you would simply miss the absurdity of Cuckoo. It is a beautifully shot film that is loud and strange, and that I left the theatre satisfied despite its pacing issues and plot holes is a testament to how fun it was. Even if you don’t love psychological thrillers with freaky villains, I’d still recommend watching it for the unique premise, and to see Hunter Schafer’s brilliant performance–she adds such a visceral and raw layer to her character that makes the film more endearing.
She also looks gorgeous playing bass and stabbing people with her butterfly knife, do you really want to miss that?
CUCKOO (2024) is releasing at the projector on 5th SEPTEMBER, 2024. click here to book your tickets today.