CinemaSerf

May 6, 2026

7.0

Perhaps the vicar was just clearing his throat at his Christening, but anyway it's author "Ohm" (Adam Scott) who is about to conclude the final instalment of his legendary "Conquistador" trilogy when he is reminded that he still has the ashes of his parents in a cupboard, alongside a photograph of his mum leaning against a giant tree. He decides that the best place for them to rest is under that very tree, so he sets off to Ireland and a remote country hotel. His arrival gives him (and us) an idea of just how quirky this place is, and the fact that he's a bit attitudinal suggests the trip isn't going to go so well. That turns out not to be the half of it, though, as a timely intervention by barmaid "Fiona" (Florence Ordesh) proves just the start of an intrigue that involves her disappearance, a dead goat, a crossbow, a locked honeymoon suite, an enigmatic vagrant (David Wilmot) and a very busy dumb waiter. Of course the woodland setting plays an huge part in creating the sense of tension, and from that it's the wind howling audio that works best as well as some dim - but plausible - shadowy lighting. Ok, so this hotel does appear more labyrinthine than Churchill's War rooms and the story itself isn't without the odd hole or two, but I felt Scott (who reminded me of David Tennant) held this together quite well as his character's current predicament is woven in with an historical one that fills in a few gaps as to why mum and dad lay around in the wardrobe for a while and why he is so antsy. It's tensely directed, there is a little humour amidst the craic, and this is certainly amongst the best cinema releases from this genre so far this year.

Sierbahnn

Jun 6, 2026

6.0

It struggles to build tension and meanders at times, but this is not a bad movie. I get a very similar vibe to 1408, which came out in 2007, and Grave Encounters, especially the first one. The casting here is good and carries a lot of the movie, but the pacing is a bit slow and it's difficult to feel for the protagonist, which means that the tension doesn't quite build the way it should.

I must have a short attention span today because 10 minutes in and... yeah, I'm bored. I'll revisit this some other day when I'm not frustrated out of my skull at everything and everyone. BUT ALSO, [SPOILERS]: Did he really go from hallucinating a creepy old woman in his house twice, to nonchalantly playing with a gun that is implied to be connected to his parent's death? Maybe the creepy old woman was mommy dearest.

The Fixate & Binge Podcast, w/ Joe Curdy

Jul 29, 2026

8.0

The Irish woods are dark and deep in everything Damian McCarthy has written and directed, following a terrifying tradition of depicting isolated homes, and buildings -- possessing terrible secrets, curses, and presences. Natch, the Irish Tourism Board may ask McCarthy to start setting his films elsewhere! From **CAVEAT** to **ODDITY**, and now **HOKUM**, McCarthy succeeds presenting unnerving atmosphere for his protagonists -- especially for those who have it coming. In **HOKUM**, Adam Scott plays a troubled, misanthropic author Ohm Bauman, an American who makes a pilgrimage to an isolated, gothic hotel in Ireland (where his parents went on their honeymoon) to scatter their ashes. There, Ohm discovers that the locals who work at the hotel carry an unhealthy belief in superstitions, principally that the owner has successfully trapped a Cailleach -- ie, a "witch" in the Honeymoon Suite. Amused by the hotel's off-limits Honeymoon Suite—the source of the film's title—Ohm cannot resist investigating for himself. What follows may initially recall **1408** or **SESSION 9**, albeit filtered through an unmistakably Irish folk-horror sensibility. As Ohm's curiosity deepens, so too does the audience's fixation on whatever may—or may not—be lurking within those storied chambers. Or is it all, as he scoffs, merely "hokum"? Like his excellent **ODDITY**, McCarthy wrings terror from atmosphere alone, transforming dark hotel rooms and dimly lit corridors into spaces of mounting dread. Scott's performance proves essential to the film's success, grounding Ohm's skepticism, arrogance, and unraveling sanity with just the right balance of wit and unease. As a suspense thriller, **HOKUM** is one of McCarthy's best yet, deserving of its Big Screen release, and I can't wait to see what he does next.

This is a nice little horror movie set around halloween time. It stars adam scott as this author who is trying to complete the final book in a trilogy but has writers block. He travels to an old hotel in ireland where his parents had their honeymoon years ago to spread their ashes. While there he is quite rude with people even burning the bellboys hand with a hot spoon after the bellboy explains he is a fan of his and an aspiring writer who wants him to review his manuscript. Theres some twists and turns and overall i liked the direction and adam scotts acting was solid. I reccomend watching if your a fan of horror films.

FolknHell

Aug 25, 2026

5.0

*Hokum* has a rather irritating problem: some of its best ideas seem to belong to films it never actually gets around to making. Damian McCarthy’s remote Irish hotel gives us a haunted honeymoon suite, a huge buried cellar, a local witch, chalk sigils, protective circles, psychedelic mushrooms, a missing woman and a novelist carrying some very substantial parental baggage. Any two of those might comfortably sustain a horror film. *Hokum* keeps introducing another one. What it does extraordinarily well is frighten you. Faces appear from darkness, figures materialise behind Owen Bauman’s shoulder, and the long cellar sequences generate proper, physical tension. Even knowing where the scares were coming on a second viewing did little to defuse them. McCarthy understands the ugly little mechanics of making an audience jump. The trouble is that the mechanisms rarely connect. The ghost repeatedly looming behind Owen eventually turns out to be his mother, but the film withholds the emotional context needed to make that revelation land as anything more than retroactive explanation. Owen himself is made needlessly unpleasant, most bizarrely when he deliberately heats a spoon and burns the aspiring young writer Alby with it. His later trauma may explain his hostility, but by then the damage is done. Meanwhile, the genuinely fascinating material is sitting downstairs. Owen finds a doorway covered in chalk symbols, learns that a protective circle can keep something out, then discovers rather importantly that an unfinished one cannot. It is one of the film’s best ideas. We wanted to know why those symbols were there, what the hotel knew about them and how the witch belonged to the place. Instead, the witch largely becomes another delivery system for scares while the main plot mutates into a murder mystery involving Mel, whose increasingly desperate attempts to conceal what he has done become so catastrophically misguided that *Hokum* briefly threatens to turn into a black comedy. That might actually have been the more interesting film. So is it folk horror? It certainly occupies the scenery: isolated community, old folklore, witch, buried spaces, inherited stories. But remove those elements and the murder mystery still functions almost unchanged. Folk horror is the wallpaper rather than the building. *Hokum* is therefore a peculiar recommendation. Watch it once and it can absolutely get you. Think about it afterwards and the chalk circle is not the only thing with some conspicuous gaps. --- Reviewed by FolknHell, the folk horror film podcast · folknhell com Hear the full FolknHell podcast discussion of Hokum: folknhell com/hokum-review along with our other reviews, transcripts and episodes.

Martin Oaks

Sep 25, 2026

4.0

**Cheap jumpscares: the lazy way out** This is yet another prime example of the damage Shyamalan has inflicted on contemporary, supernatural-based cinema and plot-driven horror. Damian McCarthy has once again resorted to involuntary physiological reactions triggered by auditory overexposure. It is a bargain-bin technique that dilutes any chance of genuine suspense by drowning out the visual experience with abrupt volume spikes and sudden chords—designed solely to startle the audience through mundane, utterly played-out stimuli. In other words, what they call "horror" these days. Instead of cultivating a sense of real danger that creeps organically through the hallways of a hostel, this filmmaker opts for an invasive, repetitive gimmick that ultimately tests the patience of even the most hardcore cinephile. The writer’s odyssey quickly hits rock bottom, sunk by a script that stretches a thoroughly uninteresting premise, devoid of actual mystery or layers of meaning. The local folklore and supernatural threads surrounding a room feel like nothing more than window dressing. Without any convincing dramatic development, the gallery of characters wandering across the stage makes absolutely no sense, reduced to mere moving targets waiting for the next sonic blast. The audience is left waiting for only one thing: the exact moment they are supposed to jump out of their seats. Consequently, the film attempts to paper over its fragile plot by intertwining the harassment of a mystical entity with the protagonist's unfinished business. This exploration of guilt and grief feels entirely contrived, operating clumsily on the fringes of the central leitmotif. Since the script is utterly incapable of forging a real emotional connection, the dramatic climax falls completely flat, exposing the tragedy as a flimsy pretext to justify locking the character inside a hostile, absurd environment.