Biblical scholars may quibble, but Leviticus’s prohibitions on male same-sex intercourse have long been read as a condemnation of homosexuality by certain Christian sects. Adrian Chiarella’s debut feature, Leviticus, makes merry with the doctrine. This zeitgeisty horror, frequently cited with the similarly buzzy Obsession and Backrooms, follows two Australian teenagers whose emerging sexuality clashes with the strictures of their backwater Christian community.
Naim (Joe Bird) has recently moved to a provincial suburb with his widowed mother (Mia Wasikowska), who hopes the family will find stability through the local parish. There, Naim strikes up a tentative friendship with and attraction to Ryan (Stacy Clausen). Their friendship blossoms into secret, poignantly inexpert encounters in an abandoned mill where they meet away from the fanatical community.
Heartache strikes when Naim discovers Ryan with the pastor’s son. Devastated and vengeful, he reports to the elders, inspiring the pastor to summon a conversion preacher (Nicholas Hope), an old-timey creep from the same school as the scary frocked men of Poltergeist 2 and Night of the Hunter.
During a humiliating public ceremony, Ryan and the pastor’s son are subjected to an exorcism intended to remove “sinful” thoughts. With a curtsy to It Follows, each boy is subsequently pursued by a supernatural figure visible only to its victim. Negative reinforcement ensues.
The supernatural premise marries the film’s religious conflict to its horror mechanics: with Pavlovian insistence, the boys’ sexuality becomes synonymous with fear, surveillance and violence. Naim and Ryan, who are madly in love regardless, must negotiate the loss of their relationship against mortal peril. Producer and star Mia Wasikowska, revisiting the dark matriarchal energies of Club Zero, makes for a terrific fundamentalist mom.
Bird gives Naim a compellingly awkward, inward quality as the character moves from sexual awakening toward attachment. Writer-director Chiarella ingeniously conjures horror off-screen, relying on atmosphere, shadows, and the recurring device of an apparently familiar person behaving with unexplained menace. Puppy love is seldom so terrifying,
In cinemas from September 4th