Hokum (2026) Review — Adam Scott Checks Into Ireland’s Most Haunted Inn

You arrive at the inn just as the light gives up.

Rain slashes sideways across a road that stopped pretending to be a road an hour ago. The building squats against the Atlantic wind like it’s been holding its breath for a hundred years — peat smoke curling from the chimney, one yellow window glowing like a held secret. The receptionist smiles at you for exactly one second too long and slides a key across the desk. A big brass key. Heavy. You didn’t ask for the honeymoon suite. But somehow, that’s the key you’re holding.

Up the stairs, then. The door at the end of the corridor has a heart carved into the wood, and inside: the four-poster bed, the heart-shaped mirror, the little loveseat nobody has ever loved anything on. Carved into the headboard, under decades of varnish — marks. Not initials. Tallies. You count them before you can stop yourself. Downstairs at the bar, the locals start telling stories the way people only tell stories after the third pint: the woman who used to haunt this room. The witch. The one who never checked out. You laugh. You really shouldn’t have. Because at 3 a.m., the scratching starts — not on the door, but inside the walls, like long nails on the other side of the plaster — and by morning, the guest in the room below you will be gone. Not checked out. Gone.

Harper’s Review

That’s the setup of Damian McCarthy’s Hokum, and if your spine is already doing something weird, good — it’s working exactly as intended.

Reclusive novelist Ohm Bauman (Adam Scott) travels to a remote Irish inn to scatter his parents’ ashes, and that’s about the last normal sentence in this movie. The staff are all a little too eager to chat, and what they want to chat about is the ancient witch said to haunt the honeymoon suite. Bauman checks in as a skeptic and checks out as something else entirely, as disturbing visions and a shocking disappearance drag him into a nightmarish confrontation with the darkest corners of his own past.

What works here works hard. McCarthy directs dread the way a conductor leads an orchestra of floorboards — every creak, every held shot of an empty corridor, every inch of Joseph Bishara’s crawling, insectile score is doing something to your nervous system. This is folk horror that understands the assignment: the inn itself is a character, the staff’s tall tales land like little curses, and the film trusts you to sit in the unease instead of sprinting to the next jump scare.

And then there’s Adam Scott, who continues his quest to make you forget he was ever funny. Fresh off making everyone anxious on Severance, he plays grief like a man drowning in three inches of water — quiet, internal, and absolutely falling apart at the seams. When Bauman starts to crack, Scott doesn’t go big; he goes hollow, and it’s far more frightening. The supporting cast — Peter Coonan, David Wilmot, Florence Ordesh, and the rest of the inn’s wonderfully unsettling staff — all nail that specific rural-Irish energy where you’re never quite sure if you’re being welcomed or warned.

What doesn’t work? Mostly a matter of appetite. The third act reaches for folk-horror fireworks that don’t quite carry the same weight as the slow burn that came before — it’s good, but it’s the one stretch where the movie feels like a horror film instead of a haunting. And yes, this is a slow one. If you need your scares every ninety seconds, the inn’s lobby has a lovely brochures rack for you. For everyone else? McCarthy has quietly become one of the most reliable dread-merchants working, and Hokum cements his third feature as proof that Caveat and Oddity were no fluke. Check in. Just don’t take the honeymoon suite.

Trivia & Facts

• Writer-director: Damian McCarthy (Caveat, Oddity) — this is his third feature, and yes, the folk-horror DNA is strong.
• World premiere: SXSW, March 14, 2026; US theatrical release May 1, 2026 via Neon.
• Runtime & rating: 107 minutes, Rated R.
• Budget vs. box office: made for roughly $5 million and scared up about $25 million worldwide — the witch eats well.
• Score: Joseph Bishara (Insidious, The Conjuring), who has never once composed a relaxing note in his life.
• Cast: Adam Scott (Ohm Bauman), Peter Coonan, David Wilmot, Florence Ordesh, Michael Patric, Will O’Connell, Brendan Conroy, and Austin Amelio.
• Folklore roots: the honeymoon-suite witch draws on Irish folk tradition — dig deeper in the Think Horror wiki if you want to know what else is out there in the dark.

Harper’s Extras

Double-feature dare: pair Hokum with McCarthy’s Oddity (2024) for a full evening of Irish folk-horror dread. Sleep is optional and frankly discouraged.

Viewing conditions: lights down, rain sounds up, phone in another room. This one rewards the patient — and punishes the distracted.

Harper’s Haunted Inn Survival Guide: 1) If the receptionist hands you a key you didn’t ask for, walk away. 2) If the scratching starts at 3 a.m., do not count the tallies. 3) If the locals want to tell you a story after the third pint — listen. They’re trying to save your life.

Where to Watch

Hokum (2026) streams on Hulu starting October 10, 2026 — perfect timing for spooky season, as if the witch planned it. It’s also available on Digital (rent or buy). The US theatrical run via Neon began May 1, 2026.

Frequently Asked Questions

Is Hokum (2026) based on a true story?

No — Hokum is an original story written and directed by Damian McCarthy. It draws on Irish folklore, which is arguably scarier than any true story, because folklore has had centuries to practice.

Where can I watch Hokum?

Hokum streams on Hulu starting October 10, 2026, and is also available on Digital to rent or buy.

Who directed Hokum (2026)?

Damian McCarthy wrote and directed Hokum — his third feature after Caveat and Oddity.

Is Hokum connected to Oddity or Caveat?

No — Hokum is a standalone story. But it shares the same folk-horror DNA as McCarthy’s earlier films, so fans of Oddity and Caveat will feel right at home. A very haunted home.