‘Leviticus’ Review – This Dread-Fueled Debut Is A Terrifying Triumph

Synopsis: Two teenage boys must escape a violent entity that takes the form of the person they desire most — each other.

No matter how much you hope, beg, wish, or pray, your kids may not be anything like you. They might have completely different interests, musical tastes, palates, fashion sense, political stances, or intelligence, or they could even love differently; regardless, you should love your kids unconditionally. Furthermore, unless they’re harming themselves or others, let them live their truth. You can be tough and firm, but make sure they know you love them. Let them dream, allow them to reach for the stars, and let them love who they want because you know what, life is too short.

“Don’t tell anyone about this.”

There’s no hate quite like Christian love. It may not be a phrase you like, but it’s a very real reality that many face. Not to mention, the sentiment is violently present in this film. Written and directed by Adrian Chiarella, Leviticus is an ominous coming-of-age queer horror that makes a case for being one of the year’s best genre films. This dread-fueled debut is a terrifying triumph. From its moody atmosphere, effective scares, thought-provoking premise, and stirring performances, it may be flying under the radar for now, but it is an undeniable spooky gem. However, I do have my gripes. They are somewhat small, but they affect how the movie is perceived. One issue concerns its proprietor of spirits, the Deliverance Healer; the other concerns its messaging.

Set in a seemingly blue-collar Australian town, the visual language reinforces the small-town feel and tight-knit relationships among the residents. Moreover, through stifling interpersonal dynamics and its expressive cinematography, the film vividly portrays the “small town, small minds” trope. As the film avoids the use of words such as gay or lesbian, as the parents see their teens as morally perverse and taken by the Devil, the film quickly spirals into a Christian conversion therapy fright fest. A holy haunting, if you will. After a tidal wave of new feelings and a steamy encounter ensues, so does a bout of jealousy that alters Naim and Ryan’s lives forever. This is a story of survival, a story of overcoming hate; it’s a story that centers the lgbtq+ community, giving them a voice to spotlight the fear and pain of unprovoked persecution.

Furthermore, that hate and homophobia they experience is personified by a murderous supernatural entity. It’s invisible to most, but for those who have had the misfortune of being involuntarily and forcibly brought to the Deliverance Healer, it manifests itself as the person they are infatuated with. Not only does it make it difficult to trust, but how do you kill or outrun something that looks like a person you love? The concept is immensely creative yet unbelievably diabolical. Think a queer It Follows.

“It comes for you when you’re alone.”

Now, my beef with the Deliverance Healer is that he feels like a macguffin. While his inauspicious presence and unholy aura make a powerful impression, his perceived importance flees just as quickly as it appears, yet he remains a pivotal puzzle piece. As far as messaging goes, the film can be interpreted in two oppositional, almost paradoxical, ways. By the end, it’s rather clear that this is a “love conquers all” narrative; however, one can walk away with the notion that being queer means death. Moreover, while being queer isn’t a choice, the film almost acts as a deterrent.

Nevertheless, Leviticus features fantastic, scream-inducing scares; the direction and cinematography are incredible, and even if you omit the horror aspect, you’d still have a gripping drama. It’s a film that offers validation as well as a haunting mile in someone else’s shoes. As one of the year’s best horror films, this is definitely worth a trip to the theater. Its rewatchability is medium to high.

Pace & Pop

While some may consider this film a slow burn, it would seem that the pacing is more of a directional choice than the result of story. Moments of pause or contemplation are opportunities for the audience to fully grasp and digest what has just unfolded. The breaks in action are also to take in the shot at hand, as there is a distinct visual language. What really pops is the atmosphere that Adrian Chiarella created for this feature debut. The growing sense of dread and hopelessness is incredibly palpable throughout. Next to the well-crafted scares, the mood alone sends the whole thing spiraling into horror territory.

Characters & Chemistry

Starring: Joe Bird, Stacy Clausen, Jeremy Blewitt, Ewen Leslie, Davida McKenzie, Nicholas Hope, Zahra Newman, and Mia Wasikowska

With just over a handful of credits, Joe Bird and Stacy Clausen deliver incredibly impressive performances as Naim and Ryan, respectively. From the intimate moments when it feels as if they are the only two people in the world to the unadulterated fear that has their souls leaving their bodies and their feet lifted off the ground, they execute on all fronts. And Mia Wasikowska as Naim’s mother is one of the coldest, most infuriating parents I’ve seen on film in a while. She’s aloof, dismissive, and a representation of the indoctrination of religion and the parent-child disconnect.

Leviticus haunts theaters starting June 19, 2026. Stay safe and stay woke.

Rated: R Runtime: 1h 28m Directed: Adrian Chiarella Writer: Adrian Chiarella Producers: Samantha Jennings, Kristina Ceyton, Hannah Ngo Executive Producers: Salman Al-Rashid, Sam Frohman, Simmons Frazier, Daniel Negret, Robert Connolly, Liz Kearney, Mia Wasikowska, Dale Roberts Directory of Photography: Tyson Perkins Production Design: Bethany Ryan Costume Design: Zohie Castellano Hair & Makeup: Rebecca Burrato Prosthetics Design: Larry Van Duynhoven, Scarecrow Studios Editor: Nick Fenton Sound Design: Emma Bortignon Music: Jed Kurzel Music Supervisor: Andrew Koťátko Visual Effects Supervisor: Paul Nelson Line Producer: Antje Kulpe Casting: Nikki Barrett, csa, cga