Director: Damian McCarthy
Starring: Adam Scott, Peter Coonan, David Wilmot, Florence Ordesh, Michael Patric, Will O'Connell, Brendan Conroy, Austin Amelio, Mallory Adams, Sioux Carroll, Ezra Carlisle
Running Time: 107 min.
Rating: R
★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)
It's rare when watching a horror film to have almost no idea where the story's going or how it'll get there. In writer/director Damian McCarthy's moody, atmospheric Hokum, this happens so often you have no choice but to give in while it explores unexpected corners of supernatural trauma. Classifying this as purely genre almost sells it short, if not for the fact it's genuinely scary, with spine tingling moments of suspense that confirm we're in highly capable hands.
Equal parts folk horror and whodunnit, it's a haunted house throwback that could have easily aired on late night TV in the 70's or 80's, stopping viewers dead in their tracks and keeping them up for weeks. After a perplexing start, this seemingly low-key character study reveals its true ambitions when a creepy, unsettling feeling slowly builds, culminating in a chaotic and claustrophobic ordeal for an unlikably doomed protagonist.
On the brink of completing his bleak "Conquistador" trilogy of novels, American author Ohm Bauman (Adam Scott) makes a trip to Ireland to spread his parents' ashes, staying at The Bilberry Woods Hotel where they spent their honeymoon. While there, he meets the hotel's staff, consisting of owner Cob (Brendan Conroy), his son-in-law and front desk clerk Mal (Peter Coonan), bartender Fiona (Florence Ordesh), gruff groundskeeper Fergal (Michael Patric) and bellhop Alby (Will O'Connell). He also encounters Jerry (David Wilmot), an eccentric local living out of his van who drinks goat milk laced with magic mushrooms.
While the depressed, alcoholic Ohm cruelly belittles bellboy Alby's writing aspirations, he forms a brief bond with barkeep Fiona just before she goes missing following the hotel's Halloween party. And despite earlier dismissing her claims that the locked, long abandoned Honeymoon Suite is haunted, Ohm knows something's off, postponing his trip home to investigate as the staff closes up for the season. He also has demons to exorcise, specifically related to his mother's tragic accident and the rift it caused with his father. But as Ohm inches closer to the truth about Fiona, what lies in that mysteriously haunted suite forces him to confront the ghosts of his past.
Ohm's novel about the conquistador and young boy that bookend the film not only gives us valuable insight into the writer he is (a Stephen King type), but the bleakness that defines this work and life. Looking for a way out of the unusually cruel dilemma he's placed his characters in, he's drawn to the idea of visiting the hotel his late parents honeymooned at decades ago, perhaps even searching for a certain degree of closure, if not some relief from the emotional baggage he's carrying.
Once it's revealed what happened with Ohm's parents as a child and the role he played in it, we realize he isn't just a rude, belligerent jerk to this hotel staff because he's a cranky minor celebrity wanting to be left alone. There's an element of that, but his wounds cut much deeper, with McCarthy earning credit for writing a protagonist who at least in the early going fails to display any redeeming qualities.
Though the film contains quieter moments of subtle humor, some may still be surprised it's carried by an actor still better known for comedic roles, despite his undervalued dramatic range when playing smarmy, sarcastic know-it-alls like this. And Ohm's easily the most complex of these Scott's ever stepped into, resulting in his best big screen outing yet, altering any preconceptions to provide a grounded presence in the midst of pure insanity
Despite aiming to make his stay at Bilberry Woods as quick and painless as possible, after a few drinks Ohm opens up to quick witted bartender Fiona, who doesn't suffer fools, reminding him of his late mom. What he can't subscribe to is her theory about the abandoned suite, dismissing any idea it's haunted as "hokum." He'll soon find out whether that's actually true.
A secretive Mal and Fergal both forcefully wave off notions Fiona's somehow trapped in that locked suite while suspicions turn to crazy local Jerry, whose potentially violent past attracts interest from authorities. But Ohm doesn't buy it, forming an alliance with the old man that's one of the film's more rewarding developments, in large part due to David Wilmot's kooky, disarming banter with a deadpan Scott. But all roads lead to the infamous Honeymoon Suite, where getting inside proves easier than getting out.
How Ohm ends up in the deadly suite is cleverly intricate in itself, though nothing compared to the terror that awaits, resulting in a karmic comeuppance he thinks he deserves. Presumably operating within the parameters of a modest budget, Til Frolich's set design is a sight to behold, as its maze-like construction, mechanical contraptions and darkened corridors visually heighten the impending doom.
Whether evil lurks in the shadows or even directly in Ohm's face, there are genuinely frightening jump scares only bolstered by Colm Hogan's suffocating cinematography. We also get the menacing appearance of a children's TV host named Jack The Jackass, who supplies enough nightmare fuel in thirty seconds to make Pennywise look like Tinkerbell. Using a key and tape recorder as his entry point, McCarthy advances a carefully constructed plot that brings Ohm closer to solving the mystery and confronting the mistake he's spent his life trying to punish himself for.
When the time comes to provide a reasonable resolution, McCarthy doesn't drop the ball, which is no easy task considering the nature of this material. And if watching a writer struggle within the supernatural confines of a remote inn conjures up thoughts of The Shining, you wouldn't be far off since so much of the film rests on similar feelings of isolation. But by exploiting the idea of a traveler in unfamiliar surroundings facing his worst fears, Hokum manages to stand out in what's become an increasingly crowded field.







