Hokum (2026)

Looks like another winner from Irish horror auteur Damian McCarthy, as Hokum hits the same creep spots as his previous entries Caveat and Oddity, while flexing new creative muscles in a more ambitious project.

A less-than-lovable Adam Scott (Severance, Parks & Rec) portrays Ohm Bauman, a horror writer intent on scattering his parents’ ashes at a picturesque hotel somewhere in the wild Irish boondocks.

Bauman’s rudeness and sarcasm rubs the staff the wrong way, with the exception of Fiona (Florence Ordesh), a friendly bartender who informs the word famous author that the honeymoon suite is haunted by a witch.

After laughing off the tale as “hokum,” Bauman’s sensibilities take a dramatic turn after he’s over-served at the bar, reeling him, kicking and screaming, into a haunting murder mystery with multiple suspects—including a vengeful spirit that appears to be ensconced upstairs, restlessly ringing the bell for room service.

Like a mashup of A Christmas Carol and The Ghost and Mr. Chicken, there is a definite story arc here, with Bauman getting a taste of humility and forgiveness that ultimately may make him a better person and writer.

Writer-director Damian McCarthy literally keeps Bauman (and us) in the dark for most of Hokum, nervously exploring the halls and tunnels that permeate the inn like paranormal prairie dog runs.

Adam Scott is pitch-perfect as an unfeeling prick in desperate need of redemption, which can only be found in the darkest corners of his soul.

And if he finds it, will he know what to do?

I recommend you find out.

Extinction (2015)

The wife and I came upon Extinction quite by accident while lost in the dense forest of Roku.

She screamed three times, so you know it’s scary.

In a frozen future, Jack (Jeffrey Donovan, Burn Notice, Fargo) and Patrick (Matthew Fox, Lost, Bone Tomahawk) are survivors of an infectious plague that reduced humanity to savage, bloodthirsty zombiedom.

Fortunately, the nuclear winter (?) that ensued, allowed Jack, Patrick, and Jack’s daughter Lu (Quinn McColgan) to build a secure compound in the tiny town of Harmony.

These are not basic cardboard characters. Jack is relentlessly protective of Lu, who’s mother died from an infected bite. He rarely acknowledges Patrick, only referring to him as “Neighbor.”

They work independently: Jack trains Lu in the art of survival, and Patrick forages on his snowmobile for supplies, broadcasts distress signals and loud rock music from his home radio station, and then drinks himself unconscious.

There is overwhelming evidence of bad blood between Patrick and Jack, and Lu can’t fathom her father’s animosity toward their reclusive provider, the only other person in existence, as far we know.

Despite Jack’s optimism that the monsters that munched mom all froze to death, a new threat arises in the form of agile, blind, albino zombies that have their own set of rules and behavior.

And they’re coming this way!

Spanish director/co-writer Miguel Angel Vivas makes the most of the Hungarian countryside location, contrasting the blinding snowy nights hiding horrid creatures that blend into the landscape, with vistas of glorious mornings worthy of inspirational postcards.

I took this as a promising omen. Perhaps all is not lost, though with a title like Extinction, one can be forgiven for expecting the worst.

The film also works as a well-intentioned metaphor for the necessity of estranged parents to put aside their issues and come together for the sake of the kid.

Or she might get eaten.

Extinction is a genuine post-apocalyptic jewel, conceived by a confident craftsman and executed by a superb cast.

Trigger warning: Dog doesn’t make it.

The Last Voyage of the Demeter (2023)

Dracula’s all-inclusive cruise to London doesn’t actually include the crew, but he paid for extra eats, so he’s entitled to certain liberties at mealtime.

Based on the Captain’s Log portion of Bram Stoker’s Dracula, director André Ovredal (The Autopsy of Jane Doe, Troll Hunter, Scary Stories To Tell in the Dark) pipes us aboard for The Last Voyage of the Demeter, as the good ship and its sturdy sailors transport mysterious crates of soil from the Black Sea to England, circa 1897.

Our protagonist Clemens (Corey Hawkins) is a Cambridge-educated black doctor who lands a high-paying job among the small crew of The Demeter, led by Captain Eliot (Liam Cunningham) and his able first, Wojchek (David Dastmalchian)

Clemens, an able hand with a keen mind, discovers a stowaway in the person of Anna (Aisling Franciosi), an anemic young girl boxed away in one of the crates of dirt and attempts to revive her using transfusions of his own blood.

Anna did not buy a ticket nor did she sneak onboard of her own accord. She was part of the cargo to feed a VIP guest in the hold. Needless to say the guest is not amused by her removal, and so begins a terror campaign against a rapidly shrinking squad of swabbies.

The crusty crew has no idea what they’re up against, and it’s only Clemens, the social outcast, that refuses to give in to fear and superstition, reasoning that if the thirsty creature can bleed, it can also die.

The Last Voyage of the Demeter does what it’s supposed to do—bring the darkness and ramp up the tension of being trapped at sea with an impossible predator breathing down your neck.

It’s not comforting, just ask Chief Brody. Can also be used in outer space!

The inability of the seamen to find the vampire during daylight hours is a troubling detail as is the accelerated transformation of Anna from feedbag to formidable fighter.

Even so, the winged vampire effects and indeed the creepy, creaky look and feel of this voyage of the damned are first-class all the way. Ovredal has us booked as reluctant passengers witnessing a terrible, unnatural nautical calamity.

Remember the old saying, “Worse things happen at sea?” It’s true.

Trigger Warning! Ship’s dog Huckleberry doesn’t make it.