Leviticus
Homosexual desire becomes a literal curse in Adrian Chiarella’s allegorical horror film, which works best when it's building atmosphere within a menacing church community in a desolate Aussie township
There's been a fruitful trend recently of horror films using attention-grabbing hooks to allegorically connect with social and psychological themes – think It Follows’ pursuer of promiscuous teens, The Substance’s fleshy symbiosis of misogyny, and Obsession’s recent satire of Gen Z abusers. Adrian Chiarella’s Leviticus expresses the violence of queer repression and conversion therapy through a literal curse, with a story following gay teenagers in a religious backwater in Australia being targeted by a demonic entity who appears as the object of their desire. For shy outsider Naim (Bird) and boisterous Ryan (Clausen), that’s each other.
Recent Aussie horrors like Bring Her Back and Relic split the difference between oppressive atmosphere and brutal violence, but Leviticus is most compelling in the former mode. In its opening stretch, the film's desaturated, post-industrial countryside setting shifts from sites of fumbling romantic rendezvous to an isolating hunting ground for sinister doppelgänger. Chiarella successfully conjures a mood that’s as aimless as it is eerie, marked by eruptions of voyeuristic and psychosexual frustration – in this film, homosexual desire is signposted by horny young men throwing rocks at each other.
But when the horror mechanics kick in, Leviticus struggles to complicate its central gimmick. The beguiling mood dissipates as Chiarella instead opts for a series of repetitive, strained scares. Scenes depicting the bland but menacing church community at the heart of the film – featuring a deceptively low-key Mia Wasikowska as Naim’s worrying mother – are confident and convincing, but Leviticus’s tenderness would be more affecting if it could conjure fear elsewhere.
Released 4 Sep by Picturehouse; certificate 15