Hokum (2026)

Hokum is the kind of horror that gets under your skin the old-fashioned way: with a place that feels steeped in history, a hush of folklore in every hallway, and scares that arrive with the cruel precision of a closing door. Damian McCarthy turns a remote Irish inn into a pressure cooker of dread, letting the witch-lore simmer until it starts to feel less like a rumor and more like a presence, and he never has to overexplain the mystery to make it terrifying. Adam Scott is terrific as a grief-worn novelist whose skepticism slowly erodes, grounding the film’s supernatural chill in something human and raw. If you only like loud, effects-heavy horror, this slower, moodier descent may not be your flavor—but if you want atmosphere, sharp direction, and perfectly timed shocks, Hokum is absolutely worth the stay.

Hokum clearly wants to be a moody, grief-soaked Irish ghost story where atmosphere does the heavy lifting, and Damian McCarthy does create a convincingly eerie setting with strong, grounded performances (Adam Scott in particular keeps it watchable). The problem is the film juggles too many spooky ideas at once, so the plot can feel convoluted and oddly disjointed, like separate horror short stories stitched together. If you’re coming for big scares or a clean, satisfying supernatural payoff, you may find it surprisingly light on genuine terror and a bit predictable in where it lands. But if you’re happy to trade jolts for slow-burn unease, misty vibes, and solid acting, it’s an okay late-night watch.