Queer horror certainly does not get enough traction in mainstream media. Maybe the most recent example would be I Saw The TV Glow, a divisive personal favorite. There needs to be a hell of a lot more, so anytime one pops up, it becomes a must see. Leviticus, the feature debut of Aussie writer/director Adrian Chiarella, starts in an all too familiar way. A budding romance soon gets stifled by smalltown ignorance, but that’s only the start of the treasure trove of horrors at play. What if the only thing scarier than the homophobes is the person you love? With a freaky entity that can invisibly take the shape of whomever you most desire, it brings new meaning to beauty in the eye of the beholder. This wildly unpredictable chiller gets under your skin, then shoves a fist down your throat.
Naim (Joe Bird) and his fanatical mum (Mia Wasikowska) have just recently moved to a quiet industrial town. Not much seems to be happening there, and the entire community is incredibly devout. Perhaps that’s why Naim’s connection to his classmate, Ryan (Stacy Clausen), becomes so impactful. They meet up frequently at the local abandoned mill, playfully bantering and passionately kissing far from prying eyes. Their relationship seems very cutesy at first, up until the point when Naim catches Ryan getting intimate with another boy, from their church. In an upset (and incredibly misguided) moment of weakness, Naim tattles on their tryst. This decision from Naim changes the course of the film at large, but also paints Naim as a complex, flawed character rather than a perfect one.
The cultish churchgoers bring in a “deliverance healer” to do a special ceremony on the two men. What begins as a bit of a joke ends in the duo writhing and seizing on the ground. Both are changed after the experience, shaking Naim to his core. His awful mum forces Naim to participate in the same horrifying ceremony, irrevocably cursing him along with Ryan and his friend. Their lust becomes physically embodied by an entity that looks like the very object of their innermost desires. How can you escape from love?
Chiarella is less interested in exploring the lore and mythology of this entity. For audiences that crave answers marked off on a checklist, maybe look elsewhere. Instead, Naim and Ryan’s doomed romance goes under the microscope in an incredibly effective way. Both Bird and Clausen are up for the task. Somehow, despite the entity trying to force them apart, they are inexplicably drawn to one another as secrets swirl around them. Neither character is idealized, and both are justifiably just young gay men searching for love and identity in a place that rejects their very existence. That such a layered romance can function within the bones of a disturbing horror movie is a testament to the brilliant script and its many twists and turns. The intense bursts of brutality always have a purpose, underlining the deeper messages and hammering home every single talking point that the director has attempted.
There isn’t exactly a happy ending in store, but the film as a whole feels important, etching out a story in the queer space that rarely garners this level of detail. Mia Wazikowska plays one of the worst movie moms ever in a performance that had my mostly-queer audience scoffing in disgust. Notably, Leviticus also features one of the year’s best jump scares. Even when its homophobia metaphor may feel a bit on the nose, the careful construction of scares and exceptionally detailed character work make it a memorably demented entry point for a fresh horror entity. Naturally, comparisons to It Follows will be inevitable; however, Leviticus is so much more than It Follows: Gay Edition. Leads Joe Bird and Stacy Clausen are easy to root for as their tender love attempts to overcome smalltown hyper-religious bigotry.
In a year for horror that has delivered successful sequels and bold original genre flicks, Leviticus stands out with a timely message and no shortage of shocking moments. It might not reinvent the wheel when it comes to the genre aspects, however, Leviticus blends two disparate categories in a unique way that we have not seen before. If this film can reach the youth of today, it sends a surprisingly hopeful message, despite the heaviness of its subject matter and the hate crimes that occur within. With a little something for horror freaks, and a lot for romance fanatics, Leviticus is a genre-twisting delight that you will want to revisit over and over again.
Leviticus screened at 2026’s NewFest Pride Film Festival. Follow the entity into theaters on Friday, June 19th.
