Leviticus Review

Leviticus is an Inspired Horror Allegory That Leaves You Wanting More

By: Marc Kozak

Leviticus

Leviticus is an Inspired Horror Allegory That Leaves You Wanting More

By: Marc Kozak

There have been several powerful movies that deal with the dangers and psychological ramifications of conversion therapy -- But I’m a Cheerleader, Boy Erased, and The Miseducation of Cameron Post are just a few of the more well-known examples. Given the state of our perpetually intolerant world and how terrifying it must be to have someone try to forcibly change your natural sexual orientation, it makes total sense that someone would set out to explore the topic through the lens of supernatural horror.

Adrian Chiarella’s Leviticus is an effective remix of the horror classic It Follows, turning the desire and longing of a young queer couple into a literal rampaging spirit of homophobia, summoned by the religious community of a small Australian town. It’s a bit of a subversion of the classic exorcism story – instead of using religious rites to purge a demonic spirit, they’re bringing one in, this time with the purpose of haunting the gay away. It’s a clever premise that leads to plenty of surprises and tense moments, doing just about enough to overcome a few too many jump scares and reliance on tropes of the teenage horror movie genre.

Naim (Joe Bird) is a soft-spoken boy doing his best to fit in amongst the rough-and-tumble lads at school, living in a new town with his mother Arlene (Mia Wasikowska), who was anxious to get back to living in a spiritual community. Much to Naim’s own surprise, he forms a friendship with the hot and popular Ryan (Stacy Clausen). The pair hang out in an abandoned warehouse, smashing glass and throwing around debris, teasing each other until they are playfully roughhousing, and then eventually kissing. Naim enjoys a brief period of happiness until he sees Ryan making out with another classmate, which he reports to the church’s pastor in a fit of jealousy.

" It’s a clever premise that leads to plenty of surprises and tense moments, doing just about enough to overcome a reliance on jump scares and tropes of the teenage horror movie genre. "

What he couldn’t have foreseen is that the parish community takes this kind of thing deadly seriously, bringing in a mystical elder who performs a ritual on any young person afflicted with these kinds of “unnatural urges”. It turns out that the ritual causes the victim to see a supernatural spirit that takes the form of the person they desire most, who then basically stalks and beats the crap out of them whenever they experience that desire. It’s a spirit that only the victim can see, a neat trick that allows for some truly unsettling scenes where Ryan appears to be getting mauled by some kind of invisible force. Naim asks around and finds out that several kids from town have died or been institutionalized over the years after receiving a visit from the church elder, providing the entire town with an eerie atmosphere of being held under the grip of some kind of magical cult.

We don’t spend a ton of time with Naim and Ryan before all of the mayhem breaks loose, nor do we really learn that much about them. Given that Ryan was messing around with another boy, it’s not even clear that they are in a relationship, or that Ryan even feels the same way about Naim. The fact that Naim outed Ryan to the entire town is barely explored, and Ryan seems to get over it pretty quickly. There’s a bit of a disconnect here that robs later scenes of emotional resonance, even if we could simply explain a lot of it away by saying they are just horny teenagers in lust. The lack of character background is a problem throughout, however – there are hints that Naim and his mother have some kind of tragic past, but it’s never really addressed. Instead, we only see Naim’s mother as classically unsupportive and bigoted, repeatedly refusing to stand up for or even listen to Naim’s distress. If there are deeper reasons behind her attitudes, we never get them.

This lack of connection between the characters makes it all feel a bit less dramatic when Naim is inevitably found out and forced to undergo the same ritual, causing him to see a demon version of Ryan on every corner. After some demonic beatings make it clear that their lives are at stake, Ryan and Naim find out what they can about the nature of what they’re going through (which turns out to be not much) and basically live in a state of paranoid terror, not ever knowing whether they can trust their own eyes whenever they see each other. They start to feel as if they have no other option than simply staying away from each other for good, which is the true tragedy of the story and conversion therapy in general: they have been trained to have their desire replaced by fear.

With a brisk running time of 88 minutes, it feels like there was a bit of room here to flesh out a few more details. Even the story’s conclusion comes at the viewer awfully fast, with a feeling that we surely must have missed a few scenes or that something got cut out. It’s a heartwarmingly cute ending that closes out the allegory in a very positive way, but it’s undeniable that the movie leaves the viewer wanting a little bit more – not in the good way, the “keep them wanting more” way – but in the way that we feel like we’re missing something, more story, more background, more character work, more answers, more everything.

Still, it’s an enjoyable ride and a good debut from Chiarella, whose past work has included a few short films and work on the SBS anthology series Erotic Stories. Much of the general story will be familiar to those who have been forced to deal with being closeted in a small, religious town, but the unnerving supernatural elements and effective horror beats, combined with a solid grasp of the themes and allegories at play, make for a pretty good time.