Film Review – Leviticus (2026)

      **Leviticus, 2026.**

      **Written and Directed by Adrian Chiarella.**

      **Starring Joe Bird, Stacy Clausen, Mia Wasikowska, Tyallah Bullock, Ewen Leslie, Jeremy Blewitt, Davida McKenzie, Julia Grace, Hyu Motoki, Edwina Wren, David Serafin, Nicholas Hope, Zachary Newman, and Shannon Berry.**

      **SYNOPSIS:**

      Two teenage boys must flee from a violent entity that assumes the form of the person they desire most — each other.

      In a realm of metaphorical horror, particularly those that fully embrace analogies, visual motifs, and symbolism to convey a message, central themes often overshadow anything else that might be enjoyable or, in the genre's case, frightening. Adrian Chiarella’s *Leviticus*, an Australian production, skirts the edge of this pitfall. In this narrative, there exists a healer (ominously portrayed by Nicholas Hope, maximizing his limited screen time) capable of performing a ritual that summons a demon visible only to the victims of his chanting. This demon takes the appearance of whoever the targets are most romantically entangled with, drawing them into a false sense of security before erupting into violence and invincibility. This premise serves as a supernatural commentary on gay conversion therapy; the film's ability to portray such a cruel theme with added harshness and heartlessness justifies its worth.

      It’s also important to note that this curse affects more than just boys, as indicated by a prologue showcasing the tragic fate of a gay girl, giving viewers a foretaste of the horrors to come without revealing too much visually. The opening scene serves as a meticulously crafted, chilling introduction that sets the stage for a narrative involving closeted teenage lovers Naim (Joe Bird) and Ryan (Stacy Clausen), the latter being discovered harboring romantic feelings for the same sex.

      A third character, Hunter (Jeremy Blewitt), complicates the situation with a love triangle that introduces jealousy, as the demon’s manifestations turn out to be true. It becomes clear that Ryan is not being targeted by a demonic Naim, but rather pursued by Hunter, which ignites a mix of emotions that lead to understandable, hurt-driven drama. Several rules govern the situation, including the stipulation that the demon cannot attack if the individual is accompanied by at least one other person, regardless of their identity.

      What makes *Leviticus* stand out as a horror narrative, despite its heavy focus on the central metaphor, is the overwhelming feeling that these boys cannot even trust those they hold dear. Compounding their emotional turmoil is the presence of a prejudiced society, which convinces them they are better off in solitude. This notion is illogical given the curse's stipulations, yet it contributes to the shame the boys gradually begin to experience.

      Although the film does not fully capitalize on its concept and concludes abruptly, it does deliver genuine scares intertwined with straightforward yet heartfelt characterization. *Leviticus* is a unique creation: a horror film that is as deeply frightening as it is romantic, often within the same scene or seamlessly transitioning between the two.

      **Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★ ★**

      **Robert Kojder**