Hokum (2026) Review!!

Synopsis – A horror writer visits an Irish inn to scatter his parents’ ashes, unaware the property is said to be haunted by a witch.

My Take – We have been watching horror films that explore grief, guilt, and folklore for so long that they now risk falling into repetition, even when they attempt to disguise their familiarity with jolting scares and atmospheres thick with dread.

From the very first moment, however, it was clear that this would not be the case with writer-director Damian McCarthy’s latest nightmare. Known for the mind‑twisting Caveat (2020) and the folkloric horror of Oddity (2024), the Irish filmmaker now delivers a story that combines an affecting search for hope with an evening of relentless chills, wicked humor, and haunted escape‑room chaos.

Making it arguably his most terrifying and accomplished film to date.

Mainly as it takes his dark fairy tale approach, built from eccentric characters, shadowy criminal mysteries, and supernatural reckonings, and refines it with greater scale and a suffocatingly claustrophobic setting. Result in a supernatural thriller that grows in ambition as much as it does in star power.

What sets it apart from many recent peers is not gore or monstrous spectacle but the way it manages to be both a classic scary flick and a quiet meditation on grief, guilt, and the burden of living with both. And anchored by one of Adam Scott’s finest performances, the film’s subtle craftsmanship and emotional depth elevate its already formidable scares into something truly exceptional.

The story follows Ohm Bauman (Adam Scott), a bitter, bestselling American author whose success has only reinforced his mean spirit. When he hits a bit of a wall with the final book of his popular book series, The Conquistador Trilogy, he takes a trip to Ireland, to spread his parents’ ashes at the very hotel at which they spent their honeymoon long ago.

But before he can find peace or leave the towering hotel with a dark history, he gets roped into the tantalizing mystery of the honeymoon suite, which accessible only by a locked-off lift. As the ghost-fearing owner Cob (Brendan Conroy) claims a malicious witch has been trapped inside.

And when the friendly young bartender Fiona (Florence Ordesh) disappears during a Halloween party and the most likely suspect is woods-dwelling drug-using drifter Jerry (David Wilmot), Bauman, who owes a debt to Fiona and her intuitions, just can’t leave the puzzle alone.

First and foremost, it is a twisted pleasure to watch Adam Scott’s Ohm Bauman snarl and jeer. Part of the appeal lies in the dark humor of seeing a protagonist so brazenly dismiss social niceties. Yet his bad behavior also serves as a warning to horror fans: he will pay for being the ugly American, scoffing at the locals and their lore, because folk horror history has taught us that such arrogance almost always leads to disaster. Beyond that, the film shapes an unnerving story of healing, probing not only why he is so cruel but also the terrifying journey that forces him to confront and reconsider his vicious ways.

Damian McCarthy’s films often carry a core of tragedy. Here, the bestselling writer is haunted by a painful family history and his inability to imagine a hopeful ending for the final book of his long‑unfinished trilogy. That stark sadness is balanced by a distinctly Irish love of storytelling, which keeps the film from collapsing under its own weight.

The emotional resonance is frequently offset by the scares, so neither the horror nor the drama achieves absolute success. Still, the combination brings intensity to a character‑driven narrative punctuated by flashes of nightmarish rabbit men, shifts into dirty black‑and‑white perspective, and the grotesque image of a corpse in a rabbit suit.

Here, director McCarthy manipulates pacing and expectation with skill, using a slow‑burn approach that heightens familiar genre tropes. He has proven himself adept at building tension, twisting his audience into knots of fear until the release comes in a scream or a jolt. His plots can be overly twisty, and that is true here, but the central thread, paired with the grimly beautiful setting and variety of unsettling imagery, compensates for any narrative excess.

Once again, the film demonstrates his gift for creating mood and atmosphere through setting. The hotel feels lived in, with each room and corridor carrying its own distinct identity. The honeymoon suite, in particular, becomes a haunted house within a haunted house, amplifying the claustrophobic terror that defines the film.

Performance wise, Adam Scott, an inherently likable performer, more than carries his weight as the initially prickly and obnoxious Bauman. He draws on much of his past experience, especially in the first half, where he comes across as an unapologetic menace to nearly everyone he encounters. Over time, however, the film allows us a glimpse into the reasons behind his abrasive nature, offering a window into the pain that shapes him.

Although Scott shoulders much of the film’s emotional and dramatic weight, he is supported by a strong ensemble that includes Peter Coonan, David Wilmore, Brendan Conroy, Will O’Connell, and Florence Ordesh. Each of them brings nuance to roles that could easily have slipped into cliché, and as the film’s true nature gradually reveals itself, their performances add depth and texture to the unfolding story. On the whole, ‘Hokum’ is a nerve‑shredding, chilling horror film that manages to be twisted, horrifying, and darkly amusing all at once.