Travis Lytle’s review published on Letterboxd:
A horror film that unfolds against the meltdown of a young family, Lewis Teague's "Cujo" spends more of its time setting up its domestic drama than presenting its horror elements. When those elements hit, however, they are intense, harrowing, and relentless.
"Cujo" is probably best known as the Stephen King adaptation about the rabid St. Bernard that terrorizes a mother and son trapped in their vehicle. This description is adequate but does not do the film's narrative justice. "Cujo" begins by alternating between the story of a pet dog, bitten by a bat and breaking down thanks to a rabies infection, and a family breaking down thanks to job stresses and infidelity. The film does a solid job of setting up both of its sides before they meet in a frighteningly jolting third act.
Teague's film is a serious-toned and straightforward genre entry. It may be underpinned by themes both primal and biblical, but there is no humor or irony at work. The family drama is compelling, and the horror is unsettling and evokes pathos. Teague allows his cameras to swoop and circle their subjects with Jan de Bont's crystal clear cinematography. The film's editing is crisp, and its performances, especially those of Dee Wallace and young Danny Pintauro, are sharp and grounded.
When "Cujo" arrives at its third act set piece, the audience is given almost more than it can handle. It is a battle between human and beast that is wrenching and claustrophobic. It is wholly effective. The evolution of the mother and son from civilized people trying to get their car repaired to sweat and blood soaked victims of an animal's onslaught is nightmarishly realized. The dog itself is an oozing, addled monster of teeth and fur.
"Cujo" may have an unfair reputation as a minor King adaptation, but it is a completely engrossing and satisfying piece of work. Its story is small, personal, and human, but, add its sad and horrific throughline, and the film becomes a tale of terror that is both authentic and clearly designed to thrill. Frightening situations sometimes occur in real life without notice, and "Cujo" exploits that idea and the film's specific situation to the fullest.