Jonny Numb

Hokum – and the experience of watching – reminded me of something else.

For a while, I thought it was Alex Garland’s Men.

But after the credits rolled and I left the theater, it hit me: the film it most reminded me of was Veronika Franz and Severin Fiala’s 2019 effort, The Lodge.

In that film, isolation, mental instability, and impish behavior coalesce into a portrait of despair set against the backdrop of the snowbound titular locale. While flawed in some of its narrative and character logic, I found the execution, atmosphere, and performances masterful, transmuting it into one of my favorite horror films of the decade.

On a technical level, writer-director Damian McCarthy’s skills are on par with Franz and Fiala – Hokum is confidently unsettling in its audiovisual design, often powerfully so. The visual palette is largely confined to desaturated earth tones, befitting of its isolated Irish setting. And the whole thing begins in darkness, as bestselling author Ohm Bauman (Adam Scott) types by the light of his laptop while rain pours down outside his lonely modern mansion.

The contents of a lockbox prompt Ohm to make a pilgrimage to Ireland to see his parents’ ashes to their final resting place. Along the way, he meets the friendly (Florence Ordesh)-to-hostile (Michael Patric)-to-quirky (Will O’Connell) staff at the hotel where his parents spent their honeymoon, as well as a local moonshine-maker and mushroom-tripper (David Wilmot). While Ohm just wants to finish his novel – the concluding tome of a series – his antagonism toward the staff and an ingrained self-loathing make him a mark for a witch that may or may not be inhabiting the locked-and-gated honeymoon suite.

Yeah, there’s a bit of The Shining in microcosm at play, as well. Someone meets their fate while dressed in a Halloween costume slightly reminiscent of the “bear-suit blowjob” scene.

Now may be a good time to mention I wasn’t a fan of McCarthy’s previous film, Oddity.

By comparison, Hokum demonstrates a distinct uptick in storytelling prowess, aesthetics, and budget – this film is rife with horrific, disturbing imagery (the perverse, goggle-eyed host of a children’s program being one of the most jarring), thick atmosphere, and palpable, Sartre-ian desperation.

For a while, it enveloped me in its spell, and I was loving what an effective ride it was. Scott is solid in the lead role, bringing dramatic weight and mean dry humor to Ohm’s bitter journey; he’s believable as a man whose skepticism and misanthropy leads to a dark night of the soul.

Unfortunately, McCarthy’s grasp of character often feels arbitrary: there are abrupt dramatic shifts that don’t feel earned (and are hard to articulate without venturing into spoiler territory), backstories that aren’t fully fleshed-out, and regrettable moments where other characters say (or shout) something about another character which we’re just supposed to assume is true.

There are more than a few moments where I could’ve facepalmed at the clunkiness of exposition spelling out plot points and trying to tie everything together with a bloodstained little bow, when Hokum is ultimately at its best when things are explained less, and the oppressive mood is allowed to dominate the proceedings.

Some of its images have stuck with me, so I’m giving a soft recommendation. But I am sincerely hoping, as he continues to hone his craft, McCarthy can throw all his cinematic skills into the cauldron and come up with a brew that’s as satisfying dramatically as it is viscerally.

3 out of 5 stars