Leviticus (2026) Review: Desire Made Monstrous

Is Leviticus worth watching?

Yes. Leviticus is one of the most original horror debuts of the year, a tender first-love story and a furious indictment of conversion therapy fused into a single, unsettling monster concept. Adrian Chiarella takes a real-world trauma and makes it the literal engine of the horror, so the scares and the emotional stakes are inseparable. The reservation is its bleakness; the film’s grim turns and heavy metaphor will be too much for some, and general audiences have been cooler on it than critics.

What is Leviticus about?

A teenage boy moves with his mother to a small, devoutly religious town in Australia, where he quietly falls for another boy. They keep their relationship secret until a jealous outburst exposes it. The community’s response is to subject both boys to a conversion-therapy ritual meant to “cure” them. Instead, the ritual tears open something monstrous: a force that turns each boy’s own desire into a threat aimed at the other.

Leviticus is written and directed by Adrian Chiarella in his feature debut, an Australian production in English that runs 88 minutes. Joe Bird and Stacy Clausen play the two boys, with Mia Wasikowska and Ewen Leslie among the adult cast. It premiered at the Sundance Film Festival in 2026.

A monster built from shame

The film’s central idea is its greatest strength. Plenty of horror films use the supernatural as a metaphor for repression, but few make the connection so direct or so cruel. The threat here does not come from outside; it is born of the very attempt to erase who the boys are, and it weaponises their feelings for each other. That concept gives every encounter a double charge of fear and grief.

Chiarella stages the horror with restraint, relying on atmosphere, suggestion and the claustrophobia of a small town where everyone is watching, rather than on constant shocks. When the scares come, they carry emotional weight, because the audience understands exactly what is at stake for the boys.

A love story worth protecting

The romance is the film’s heart, and it is handled with tenderness and specificity. The early scenes between the two boys capture the giddiness and nervousness of first love, and the young leads bring a raw, unguarded quality to their performances. Their chemistry is essential, because the horror only works if the audience wants these two to be together.

The adults are more sharply drawn as figures of pressure and fear. Their faith and fear are presented as a system that harms children in the name of saving them, and the film’s anger at that system is palpable, but it avoids turning everyone into simple villains.

Bleakness with little relief

Leviticus is relentlessly bleak, and its metaphor, while powerful, is sometimes underlined more than it needs to be. The middle section loses some momentum as the story repeats its central threat, and viewers who want clear supernatural rules may find the mythology loose. Its refusal to soften its subject is admirable, but it makes for a gruelling experience that does not offer much relief.

Who should watch Leviticus?

It is a strong recommendation for fans of elevated horror, queer cinema and coming-of-age stories with teeth. At 88 minutes it is compact. It deals directly with religious abuse, homophobia and conversion therapy, alongside disturbing imagery and violence, so viewers with personal experience of these themes should approach with care.

Related watches:

• Late Night with the Devil, another inventive Australian horror film that builds dread from a very specific setting and format.
• Romeo + Juliet, Baz Luhrmann’s feverish take on young lovers crushed by the world around them.

The verdict

Leviticus is an assured, angry and deeply felt debut that turns the trauma of conversion therapy into a genuinely fresh horror concept. Its heavy tone and occasionally overstated metaphor keep it from being an easy watch, but the love story at its centre and Chiarella’s control make it one of the year’s most memorable genre films.