Leviticus

Upon moving to a small rural town with his mother (Mia Wasikowska), socially awkward teen Naim (Joe Bird) falls for local boy Ryan (Stacy Clausen) after they share a spontaneous kiss. However, when Naim spots Ryan in the arms of the pastor’s son, Hunter (Jeremy Blewitt), he makes the drastic decision to out them, which leads to all three boys being cursed by a mysterious man known only as the Deliverance Healer (Nicholas Hope). Borrowing elements from It Follows, this curse causes the victim to be pursued by an entity that takes the form of the person they desire the most. Only they can see it, and it only appears when the person is alone.

Written and directed by Adrian Chiarella, Leviticus is less of a traditional horror than it is a tragic romance and metaphor for queer acceptance. While it takes some time for the main plot to get underway, and the scares don’t land consistently, Chiarella succeeds in delivering a thematically rich and unique feature debut.

Viewed purely as a supernatural horror, Leviticus falls short. The delayed start and slow-burn pacing can’t sustain much suspense, and its handful of scares are largely well-telegraphed. Instead, the most impactful moment isn’t when characters are attacked by an unseen force or whenever Naim is unsure if he’s talking to the “real” Ryan. It’s when the leads are taken to the middle of nowhere to confront the Healer, only for events to take an unexpected sinister turn. This sequence hits hard because it’s fully grounded and connects directly to the film’s overarching themes of homophobia.

The terror instead stems from anxieties about being queer in a small community. This allegory extends further, with the monster being read as a manifestation of the characters’ fear of their own sexual desires. This is something they must learn to live with by finding security with others. Chiarella handles this metaphor with nuance and tenderness, transforming the supernatural thrills into a bittersweet coming-of-age love story fuelled by raw performances from Bird and Clausen.

Leviticus doesn’t evoke the same level of all-out terror as recent Australian indies like the Philippou Brothers’ Talk to Me and Bring Her Back. What it does, however, is offer an emotionally charged and thoughtful exploration of self-acceptance and connection within a world that stigmatises anyone who’s deemed to be different.

Andrew Murray

Leviticus is released nationwide on 2^nd September 2026.

Watch the trailer for Leviticus here: