From first-time feature director Adrian Chiarella, we have Leviticus, an interesting little Australian horror film that melds a doppelgänger suspense thriller with a burgeoning queer love story.
Starring a predominantly young cast, with live-action Alice in Wonderland’s Mia Wasikowska as both an executive producer and a supporting character, it takes a stab at close-minded, ultra-religious communities in Victoria, a refreshing switch-up from what could easily have been a film set in America’s Deep South. Perhaps I’m a little short-sighted in my outlook on such Bible-bashing zealotry but it’s an important and necessary change of focus to address similar issues elsewhere. These problems are, sadly, not solely limited to the States.
‘All your lust, all your indecency, all your desire…it has to go now.’
The film centres on Naim, an awkward and somewhat shy teenager who has recently come to town, against his will, alongside his Christian mother, Arlene (Wasikowska). The pair of them are both mourning Naim’s father, and in dealing with that loss, Naim soon finds himself meeting his blonde bombshell classmate, Ryan, after hours and away from prying eyes. When a twist of fate sees Ryan’s sexuality exposed to the whole town, he (along with the pastor’s son, Hunter) is forcibly exorcised of his queerness by a so-called ‘deliverance healer’ who literally tries to pray the gay away. This ritual is performed in front of a whole crowd while Naim watches helplessly, and neither Ryan nor Hunter is ever quite the same again…
The strange events that spark off from this initial public shaming of the boys are eerie and unsettling, as seemingly invisible forces close in on this small community. Chiarella’s stylings are quite simplistic, but there’s something to be said for just letting the camera linger at times as a means of building up tension. Naim and others’ lives are at stake – as in any good horror film – and the simplicity helps to sustain a sense of ordinary life ticking away for everyone else in the centre, while the boys’ struggles sit, alienated, on the sidelines. There are few friends to be found in this little town – Naim admits early on that there’s nothing to like about the place – and I love when horror stories manage to make their conflicts feel completely personal and utterly isolated.
That isolation is part and parcel to the story of Leviticus itself (the film’s title, of course, echoing the Old Testament book that many quote as one of the pillars of the Bible’s take on homosexuality). While a less intriguing film might lean right into the horror elements, this one manages to thread its tenser moments into a larger narrative that delves into the oppressive and spirit-crushing feeling of being stuck in one of these communities when you are intrinsically different from the vast majority. In a fairer town, those differences would be celebrated, but here, for Naim, the qualities that make him him are shunned completely.
The idea of bringing in some smooth-talking snake oil salesman to come and exorcise your local minorities ‘til they fall in line with your way of thinking is, of course, outlandish, but that doesn’t stop them from happening all the same. It’s all too fitting that one of their key buzz words insists that the boys ‘Refoorrrm’. I wasn’t aware myself, but even here in Scotland, there were secular groups who opposed and queried the government’s 2024 endeavour to ban conversion therapy, as such exorcism served as part of their work. As ever, horror manages to call attention to existing issues in a really strong way, bringing them right up into our faces on massive cinema screens where they can’t be ignored, and that is a boon in and of itself when done right.
Thematically, the way in which the exorcism’s side effects manifest themselves play into the central conflict between Naim and the town around him really well, though I would have invited even further discussion and developed of these threads. As it stands, there’s a charming sense of an urban legend that echoes through the local teens who feel a little different from the rest of the pack. A bloody opening scene lays the groundwork Jaws style with its own isolated event, which helps establish an idea of these ‘healers’ as a widespread threat across Australia, if not beyond.
Leviticus could stand to ratchet up the tension in its set-pieces a little more. I would have liked to see a greater focus on the inherent paranoia and distrust that stems from the exorcism’s warped visions, which could have also served to expand on the relationship between Naim and Ryan. While I appreciate the fact that the pair aren’t painted as completely fawning boyfriends from the word go (the story takes place over a very short time-frame, so they’re still at the early days of their relationship, figuring out what, if anything, they mean to each other), they did feel somewhat underdeveloped.
The distance between the two – emotionally and physically – is key, but I would’ve welcomed some greater focus, especially early on, to establish an equilibrium before things go evangelistically awry. Everything that follows would feel even more emotional if we had something more to keep in our minds to understand how these events have altered the pair’s standings with each other. To the film’s credit, though, there are moments where the two genuinely bond and the story builds to some third act revelations (not in a biblical sense this time) that cap things off on a strong note.
BBFC: Rated 15 for strong violence, injury detail, horror, sex, very strong language.
Leviticus is in cinemas now.
