The name of the band is “Excelsis.” If my high school Latin and knowledge of Christmas carols are anything to go by, that means “highest.”

Drugs’re bad, m’kay?

We open in 1996 at the Video Music Awards, and Excelsis, a late-90s pop-punk-rock band reminiscent to me of the soundtracks to Empire Records and Hedwig and the Angry Inch, is a hit. Fast-cut to 20 years later, and the band, minus bassist Miles (Rob Raco) and with the addition of new member David (David Valdes) are in a van travelling across the countryside of France. The other band members are the intense vocalist Ryan (Ryan Donowho), the surly guitarist Timmy (Tim Jo), the new-age minded keyboardist Mat (James Earl) and Cristin (Allie MacDonald), the drummer who often is called on to keep the band together.

They are journeying to a 1,000-year-old castle with a reputation to meet music producer-guru (described as a “pimp hobbit”) named Charlie (co-writer Charlie Saxton) to create a new come-back album. David is the only member of the band who has read Charlie’s book, Art of A Hit.

Charlie’s a trip. He gets some of the best lines in the film. At the gate of the castle, he tells the band, “Once you walk through those doors, you’re no longer musicians, you’re explorers searching for the deepest, most personal entity within yourselves. And if that turns into a song, then that’s just a bonus.”

Is that slightly ominous?

Ryan wants to work and rework “Wish List,” a song he’s been hashing out for a decade, but the rest of the band — and, more importantly, Charlie — are not interested. Try something new, says Charlie. As the band warms to Charlie’s direction, Ryan grows increasingly frustrated.

Then, at night, strange noises and sights begin. Is this a haunting or madness or a result of late-night drug-fueled creative sessions? “I used to think this place is haunted, but it’s just us,” says Charlie.

Intensity and dissent ramps up to fever pitch over the next week or so as they try to write the perfect comeback album.

Then there’s the mystery of the forbidden pigeonnier. Yeah, I had to look it up, too: it’s French for a dovecote. A place to keep pigeons. This one is a spooky-tower that is strictly off-limits. Rumor has it Cher once went inside and it made her crazy.

Art of a Hit is a competent film, well-acted and visually professional. The ongoing mystery is the basic trope of most haunting stories: what the hell is going on here? As I watched, I had many, many theories, and it was fun to keep guessing throughout.

It falls a bit short, though. Aside from Charlie, none of the characters are very interesting. Some of the mystery is contained in an undisclosed (at first) backstory that I was never very curious about.

But will we ever find out what was in that pigeonnier?

I happen to live near a reportedly-haunted castle with a secret recording studio in it, but as far as I know there are no pigeons.