There are films that make you want to run to the bookstore or, in reality, Amazon.com. Any Jane Austen or Dickens adaptation. Atonement. Requiem for a Dream perhaps. Then there is Paul Thomas Anderson's adaptation of Thomas Pynchon's Inherent Vice.
A challenging and potentially unsettling film could have been made here. But Hobo with a Shotgun is too concerned with giving gore-hungry splatter-heads a trashy good time to bother with actually having something to say.