Based on the eponymous novel by Andrew Michael Hurley, Daniel Kokotajlo’s sophomore feature is the diametrical opposite of his breathtaking debut Apostasy (2017), a jarring, semi-autobiographical social realist drama about a defecting Jehovah Witness, and the very dear consequences that he has to pay. In Starve Acre, the Manchester-born and London-based 37-year-old director gives up the realistic tone, the urban environment and the powerful social connotations in favour of a rural-set fantasy-horror with no significant social commentary.

The sombre story begins with little Owen (Arthur Shaw) poking out the eye of a horse with a stick for no apparent reason. We don’t see the violent attack, yet watch the agonising animal on the floor screaming in pain. His doting parents Richard (Matt Smith) and Juliette (Morfydd Clark) explain to the authorities that he had never displayed such behaviour, yet mum has noticed some subtle signs that not everything is right. Owen repeatedly mentions the name of a man called Jack, some sort of invisible friend with a connection with Richard and his abusive father, suggesting a generational pattern of creepy behaviour. Then tragedy strikes: Owen has a fatal asthma attack, leaving the two adults desperately scrambling for answers, and a purpose in their life.

It is grief that drives the story forward, billed as a “contemporary folk horror”. Juliette’s doting sister Harrie (Erin Richards) steps in order to help the couple cope with the loss, and sort through the belongings of the late child. two neighbours organise a seance session with the usual flickering candles and mysterious indoors gush of wind. It all looks very dark and elegant, undoubtedly aided by the heather-covered, melancholic landscape of the Yorkshire Moors, and the invariably gloomy weather. The occasional flower offers a touch of colour and the hope of redemption to this strange story, as winter slowly draws to an end and spring brings new life.

The elements of paganism and folk culture creep in. The skeleton of a hare mysteriously coming back to life, the giant roots of an ancient tree, and books populated with witches and satanic rituals. It all sounds intriguing, and maybe Starve Acre could become to the rightful heir to terrifying British folk horror The Wicker Man (Robin Hardy, 1973). The fact that the film is set in a recent past, devoid of mobile phones and conspicuous technologies, also adds a touch of otherworldliness, and brings Kokotajlo’s film closer to Hardy’s classic. But that’s about it.

While finely acted, visually exuberant and ultra-British, Starve Acre fails to scare. There are just too many McGuffins and loose ends, and the story eventually slips into horror trope overindulgence and silliness. The music score is repetitive and invasive, desperately trying to rescue this ambitious endeavour from banality. The ending is open-ended and clunky. A movie does not have the duty to provide all answers to viewers, and ambiguity if often an asset. The problem with Starve Acre is that I don’t even know what questions it set out to raise.

Starve Acre is in cinemas on Friday, September 6th. A partial misfire in the career of a young and promising filmmaker. Kokotajlo both directed and wrote the film.