Hokum

Description

Hokum: The witch in chains is waiting for you in the basement

“Hokum” translates to “nonsense” or “tall tales.” And thanks to his tall tales about conquistadors, Oom Bauman (played by the brilliant Adam Scott) became a famous writer. But it didn’t make him happy. His entire life, he’s been tormented by guilt. Just like Bruce Wayne in Matt Reeves’ The Batman: suffering from his parents’ death as if it happened yesterday. Apparently, time doesn’t heal in his universe.

It’s a mystery how both of these guys made it to forty carrying such a heavy burden—a weight that eats them alive from the inside and shadows them like a loyal, miserable companion from dawn till dusk.

Ultimately, unlike the eternally brooding but death-resistant Batman, Oom Bauman finally snaps and tries to hang himself in his hotel room—the very room he came to scatter his parents’ ashes. But he survives, thanks to the concierge. What follows is a story that deliberately steers the audience away from the banal “good vs. supernatural evil” trope and dives straight into tangible, messy human vices and fears.

At first, Hokum seems to walk down a pretty obvious trope-filled path: in an old hotel—the very place Bauman’s parents once stayed—a witch is locked inside one of the rooms. The room is sealed shut, and entering it is strictly forbidden. Which, naturally, is like waving a red flag in front of a writer. But the plot takes a sharp turn in a different direction, which is a good thing. However, there are nuances.

I felt that Oom Bauman is a bit inconsistent in his actions. The character writing is pretty ambiguous. First, he saves some kids from an old man telling them a creepy story and mourns a dead deer. But a minute later, he’s being a total dick to the hotel staff, acting all arrogant. Then he’s all friendly with the concierge, and right after that, he treats another employee like absolute garbage. It feels a bit off. There’s just no explanation for these wild mood swings toward the people around him.

What do Damian McCarthy (Hokum, Oddity) and Oz Perkins (Longlegs, The Monkey, The Blackcoat’s Daughter (February)) have in common? Both of them come up with highly original plots. But in my opinion, they lack the talent to make those plots actually evoke any real emotion.

While watching their films, I fully recognize that the story is original and doesn’t follow the beaten path. But at the same time, neither the plot nor the characters evoke any empathy, discomfort, or fear. Zero emotional rollercoaster. The story is completely flat, like a straight line on a heart monitor during cardiac arrest.

P.S.
Watching Hokum reminded me of the relatively recent horror film Baghead. The movies are completely different, but they share a similar visual style, with both taking place in old houses and dealing with atypical supernatural entities. But I actually liked Baghead. I didn’t have a single complaint while watching it. It was shot beautifully and with real quality.

P.P.S.
Regarding the unexplained, endless brooding of Bruce Wayne—that’s my only real gripe with The Batman. At some point, it just starts to get annoying. But otherwise, I loved the movie. Plus, I love Matt Reeves’ films, I adore Pattinson, and I’m infinitely in love with Batman. So, you couldn’t ask for a better combo. The only thing that could rival it is the dream team of Pattinson and Zendaya in a single movie. And that actually happened in The Drama.

But I’ll be completely honest with you: Reeves + Pattinson + Batman still take up slightly more space in the hierarchy of love and the real estate of my heart. Sorry, Zendaya. But I still love you like crazy. Tom Holland is one lucky guy.