Hokum: The wildly inventive horror mystery that deserves more attention

Hokum is a rare kind of horror film that works on multiple levels, blending genuine scares with mystery intrigue and dark comedy in ways that catch you completely off guard. The film follows a famous but deeply unlikeable writer, Allson Bowman, who arrives at a remote Irish hotel to escape his past, only to find himself trapped in a nightmarish web of secrets, supernatural forces, and small-town conspiracy.

What makes Hokum exceptional is how it avoids predictability at every turn. The story begins as a atmospheric folk horror piece, with hints of a vengeful witch haunting the honeymoon suite. But as the narrative unfolds, it evolves into something far more complex: a mystery where nearly everyone at the hotel seems complicit in something darker than initially apparent.

A Sharp Exploration of Unlikeable Characters

Adam Scott's portrayal of Bowman is masterfully detestable. He's rude to the hotel staff, dismissive of his fans, and generally obnoxious in ways that feel utterly authentic. Yet the film slowly reveals why he's so broken and bitter, transforming audience perception through tragic backstory. His mother was murdered years ago by someone too young to face justice, and his father drank himself to death in response. This trauma drives everything Bowman does, including his cruelty.

The supporting cast enriches the mystery considerably. Jerry, the marginalized man living in the woods, presents himself as both potential villain and unlikely ally. The hotel manager Mal operates with suspicious propriety. Even the cheerful front desk clerk and various guests harbor secrets that slowly surface as the investigation deepens.

The Twist That Recontextualizes Everything

Without spoiling major revelations, the film's twist involving Fiona, a bartender who goes missing, reframes the entire narrative. Fiona is pregnant with Mal's child, and the conspiracy to silence her connects to the witch mythology in unexpected ways. The basement sequences become genuinely harrowing as Bowman discovers the lengths to which people will go to protect their secrets.

The witch, when finally revealed, is both real and symbolic. She represents how trauma and desperation can corrupt even ordinary people into something monstrous. The horror isn't just supernatural, it's deeply human.

Masterful Use of Atmosphere and Pacing

Director John Butler uses the Irish landscape brilliantly, making the isolated hotel feel genuinely claustrophobic despite vast surroundings. The pacing deliberately builds tension through conversation and discovery rather than cheap jump scares. Scenes move with deliberate slowness, which only heightens the dread when violence finally erupts.

The attention to detail rewards careful viewers. Little clues scatter throughout: the mention of a goat named Lucky Luna, the mechanical bell connected to the honeymoon suite, the dumb waiter that becomes crucial to the finale. These elements feel organic rather than contrived.

Why Hokum Deserves More Recognition

In a horror landscape crowded with remakes and franchises, Hokum stands out as original, intelligent, and genuinely unsettling. It respects its audience enough to weave complex themes about grief, guilt, and moral compromise into the genre mechanics. The film doesn't provide easy answers about who's right or wrong, only that everyone has been damaged by circumstances beyond their control.

The ending, when it comes, feels inevitable yet shocking. It validates everything the film has been building toward while leaving viewers with uncomfortable questions about justice, redemption, and the price of secrets.