Most film directors have that “difficult third album” phase, especially genre ones. You know the sort of thing. Two successful films, and some folks in the media (and the viewing public) are just itching to watch the fresh talent crash and burn with unnecessary glee. What’s wrong with us? And so, Damian McCarthy must have had (well, possibly) this at the back of his mind during production. Having had some great critical and audience responses to his previous Irish folk horrors, Caveat and Oddity, filming for Hokum (also written by McCarthy) took place in West Cork, Ireland, during the early part of 2025. A step-up in terms of distribution and coverage (most people caught the other films at festivals or on Shudder), this is getting a substantial(ish) theatrical release in both the UK and the US. And after a good reaction at SXSW, critics have been pretty impressed by it. It stars Adam Scott, who is riding high on the current Severance swell of appreciation, but has also been in a fair few horrors, including The Monkey, Krampus, Little Evil and Piranha 3D. The cast also includes Irish character actors Peter Coonan, David Wilmot, and Walking Dead fans can keep an eye out (not literally, like Carl Grimes) for US personality Austin Amelio, who played Dwight in the show. So, whilst it’s providing some well-needed scares on the big screen amid all the big-budget early summer blowouts, we’ll decide if it’s h’okay or not.

 

It opens with a strikingly surreal sequence, set in a vast desert of sand dunes as an unnamed Conquistador and his young squire follow the directions on a scrappy treasure map. This is revealed to be the mind's eye of Ohm Bauman (wonderfully played by Scott) as he’s writing the climax of his latest novel and envisages a grim end for his characters. Ohm is figuratively (and perhaps literally) haunted by his parents, especially his mother, who died relatively young. Due to a restless nature and a forgotten promise, he travels to Ireland and books into the remote hotel where they spent their honeymoon. He scatters their ashes in the nearby wood and attempts to complete his novel. However, after a harrowing event, he becomes distracted by the disappearance of a local who showed him kindness. This all seems to be tied into some quaint folklore connected with the hotel, where it is said that the owner trapped a “Cailleach” (witch) in the honeymoon suite, locking the room up tight with no access ever since. Whereas Ohm previously called this tale “hokum” (roll credits!), he may just have to eat his words…

 

Without “ag bualadh timpeall an tor” (“beating around the bush” in Irish. Gotta love Google Translate), this is great. It is (personal opinion, obviously) McCarthy’s most accomplished and satisfying production to date. Third album difficulties, be damned! What’s impressive about this film is that it marries folklore with traditional “haunted house” vibes and still finds room for humanistic elements and humour, without smacking you round the head with obvious themes. The production values (note the unorthodox opening) feel bigger, and the welcome presence of Scott (in curmudgeon mode) adds some broader scope to the whole thing. This is despite the (mostly) claustrophobic settings and the intimate setting where the plot centres closely on Ohm for the most part. That is, apart from some intensely spooky flashbacks, which do not break the cohesiveness of the story in any way. And in common with McCarthy’s previous movies, it somehow manages to be genuinely unsettling and scary, without (nearly) spilling a drop of blood on the floor.

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Whilst the supporting cast is excellent, especially Wilmot as Jerry and Florence Odesh as Fiona, a lot of the effectiveness is due to Scott’s ‘American in Weird Cork’. His character goes on an Ebenezer Scrooge-type emotional journey and is brilliantly fleshed out as one witch rather than three ghosts visit him. He’s an absolute arsehole at times, burning the hand of a bellboy with a mean trick and spouting dour one-liners that deserve mic-drops. Being told that there is a Halloween party in progress and he is invited, he moodily responds with “Get me a room as far away from the ‘Craic’ as possible”. It’s a lovely piece of character work with great depth, as we gradually learn the reason for his bad moods despite his global success as a writer. It leans into an overall theme, which doesn’t crowd out other elements of the storyline, being the way in which guilt can twist the lives and demeanour of people. Some in the worst way possible. This leads to a couple of major plot developments which reflect this element and drive the story in certain ways.

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All of that shouldn’t make you pull a “not sure if want” face, because it is as funny as hell in some places and also damned scary in others. Like Caveat and Oddity, a lot of the frights and moments of doomy tension are created by atmosphere, slow build-ups, and intentional stillness rather than a gruesome entity biting a character’s neck or something. The lore around the witch is carefully explained, which makes the later appearances that much more unsettling without her leering in your face for prolonged stretches. The mere fleeting glimpse in the shadows is enough to get the heart pumping and gets Ohm practically shitting himself. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg; other spooks are lurking on the threshold, and a whole ton of weird imagery sets the mood. There are a plethora of bulgy-eyed child figurines and cherubs in the hotel, and there’s a pleasing Gothic tone that permeates the hotel. The main character actually spends a lot of time carrying a lantern around pitch-black locations, and you can’t get much more Gothic than that! Despite the much lower budget, the Billberry Woods Hotel is like the Overlook Hotel with a conscience or Hill House with a reception.  

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There are plenty of neatly organised jump-scares, usually followed by a reference to a religious figure and an F-bomb from Ohm. Perhaps they are a little too close to the typical Hollywood equation of quiet-quiet-unexpected face-orchestral bang, but you can’t ignore their effectiveness. However, it’s the emotional depth and the attention to detail that really sell the scares. Ohm scatters the ashes of his mother with tenderness, whilst simply dumping his father’s in a heap. There’s the inspired use of a clock by Ohm to prevent himself from being trapped. And the whole spiel around the “Magic Mushroom Milk” adds another level to events. Even the little flourishes (like car-climbing goats) add flavour to the mix. Like his earlier movies, McCarthy depicts the supernatural as a force of… err… nature. It’s faintly karmic and won’t come for you unless you seek it or walk into its influence. Human evil and heightened emotions are shown to be objectively more dangerous in the long run, just not as obvious or heart-stoppingly frightful.

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There are minor issues. It would have been lovely to see more of the Cork countryside and its link to folk horror, but the main happenings are within the confines of the hotel, so, understandably, most of the location is limited to there. And as a pivotal event happens on Halloween (technically making this a seasonal horror), it would have been nice to see the witch lore reference this or have some spooky shenanigans at the unseen party. But there is a deep and satisfying nature to the whole thing that is sadly rare in most genre films these days, regardless of the budget or backing. Three distinct subplots make up the film. Ohm’s personal journey, a mysterious disappearance, and whether the witch is real or not. Whilst the ending is left open to some ambiguity (*cough*milk*cough*), all story arcs are resolved naturally, and it’s just refreshing to report that to be honest. It’s also an experience where you will be invested in the fate of the leading characters (worst exclamation of “I’ll live”, ever!) and find yourself gripping the arms of the seat as it comes to a climax. The fact that they even take time to resolve the ending of Ohm’s book is a telling achievement.

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Hokum delivers on so many fronts that it’s hard to find faults with it. Those looking for gory shocks will be disappointed. But those open to a deeper and more meaningful excursion into the supernatural will find this absolutely delightful. There’s humour, genuine ghoulish scares, and an understanding of human nature that provides further food for thought, without getting too bogged down in details. Really, really enjoyable and already a potential nomination for the best film listing of 2026 for us. Some may not respond as enthusiastically to this haunted-house-with-a-heart film, but for us, it’s further confirmation that McCarthy is one of the best genre talents around in modern cinema. Whether you catch it on the big screen (please do) or later on a streaming channel, try your very best to see it. No joke-um!