'Leviticus' Review
- John Odette
- 23 minutes ago
- 2 min read
Release Date: 06/19/26 [Cinemas]
Genre: Horror. Romance. SciFi. Thriller.
MPAA: Rated R.
Distributor: NEON.
The Verdict: A Must-See
Writer/director Adrian Chiarella’s debut film, Leviticus, stands tall as a queer horror entry into a genre that champions the marginalized and the outcast, proving that small-budget indie storytelling can do a lot with a little. Having been picked for distribution by budding powerhouse NEON, Leviticus demonstrates its worth with strong chemistry from the two leads and a visceral reflection of the conversion therapy movement.
Before its debut, this film had drawn comparisons from other recent “elevated horror” films, which is both a fair acknowledgment and slightly misleading. The concept of an evil entity is not entirely new, and some viewers will be drawn to make preconceived comparisons to Smile and It Follows. But while those former films, particularly It Follows, delve into the ramifications of physical intimacy, Leviticus is separate, dialing in on the consequences of emotional connection.
Set in a small industrial town in Australia, Leviticus follows Naim (Joe Bird, who recently starred as the younger brother in the fellow Australian horror Talk to Me) as he navigates his complex romantic relationship with Ryan (Stacy Clausen). Their small town has no patience for homosexual acceptance, and upon being outed, both boys become subject to a ritual by a deliverance healer that lets loose an entity that discourages the boys from pursuing their desires. The entity manifests as what the subject most desires and is visible only to the subject. The results have violent ends as the boys come to realize they must never be alone to maintain safety, but can no longer trust themselves to be near each other.
The horror works on the simplest concept – avoiding what you most want, lest you be punished. The brutal lesson is a bit on the nose, but Chiarella’s film provides exceptional sequences designed to crank up anxiety and increase paranoia. As a coming-of-age story about forbidden love, the film builds solid tension through a metaphor of religious fanaticism that heightens the personal stakes.
This film will connect with an audience that has experienced religious hypocrisy and shame. Bird and Clausen deliver electric performances that are exponentially more impactful thanks to their strong chemistry. While the plot is rather simple in premise, the creepiness and strain bleed off the screen. This is not a comfortable film, but it is quite good. There are some first-time director quivers that need addressing, namely the introduction of the two leads. Leviticus starts mid-stride with the playful romantic lingering, and it would have raised my investment in the characters if I had gotten to know them a little more at the beginning.
The fact remains that this story is an auspicious debut from Adrian Chiarella. He has crafted a singular horror experience that will resonate with many viewers, especially those in the queer community. Leviticus builds its anticipatory horror while balancing incredible performances with themes of intolerance. For being such a dark, terrifying experience about forbidden yearning, Leviticus is definitely hopeful.
