“The Hunt” is a merciless examination of the fear and savagery roiling just below the surface of bourgeois life. Because the film is set in a community of hard-drinking deer hunters, its comparisons of humans to the creatures they stalk run deep. An early scene of rowdy woodsmen drinking themselves insensate seethes with an undercurrent of potentially explosive violence.

The nightmare appears to come out of the blue. Lucas, who is recovering from a bitter divorce, has a new girlfriend (Alexandra Rapaport), whom he furiously kicks out of the house when she voices a tinge of uncertainty about his innocence. Instead of cowering in terror, Lucas confronts his accusers and fights back. But an irrational mob mentality has seized the village. Lucas becomes a pariah, expelled from civilized society, reviled by neighbors who throw rocks through his windows and prevent him from shopping in stores. When his teenage son, Marcus (Lasse Fogelstrom), stands up for him, the boy is attacked.

An unspoken question addressed by the movie is why adults so readily believe the words of confused young children. The self-righteousness of those eager to believe the worst is as galling as it is believable. The movie suggests that the solidarity of the village’s condemnation is a measure of individual uncertainty. It’s a matter of finding safety in numbers.

Very pointedly, the story is set in the months leading up to Christmas. The contrast between the villagers’ fear and hatred and the lofty spiritual ethos in the season of lights infuses “The Hunt” with an extra chill. The Christmas scenes bring to mind Ingmar Bergman’s “Fanny and Alexander,” in which wondrous enchantment collides with demonic religiosity. But “The Hunt” doesn’t know where to stop. It is undermined with a short, unsatisfying epilogue whose shocking final moment isn’t enough to justify its inclusion.