Leviticus

Leviticus 18:22: “You shall not lie with a male as with a woman; it is an abomination”.

Leviticus 20:13 decrees that any homosexual acts are deserving of capital punishment.

These two passages from the Bible are at the foundation of the discussions surrounding homosexuality in its various forms, though it never addresses lesbianism or any other variation of orientation. Exegesis is beyond the scope or purpose of this review, but the realities of cultural contexts and translations are a vital component of addressing this complex subject. Out of this sensitive issue has come Leviticus, the latest in a string of innovative, thought-provoking independent horror films, written and directed by debut director Adrian Chiarella and starring Joe Bird as Naim Reid, a teenager whose religious mother Arlene, played by Mia Wasikowska, has moved them to a depressingly drab small conservative town in Australia called Victoria, filled with industry and power plants under a perpetually gray sky. There he meets Ryan, played by Stacy Clausen, and the two boys start falling for each other. The problem is that their community condemns their feelings, so they must meet each other in secret.

When Naim accidentally discovers Ryan kissing another local boy named Hunter (Jeremy Blewitt), out of retribution he goes to the church and rats them out. The priest performs a cleansing/conversion ritual on Ryan and Hunter in front of the families that instantly unleashes a dark power. Naim quickly realizes that he played the key part in bringing about a force that seems bent on destroying the three of them.

Horror has always been a genre that lends itself to exploring many social issues in the package of the supernatural. Utilizing the religious taboo toward any sexual orientation outside of the heterosexual strictures, including the accompanying belief in demons and certain sexual acts as “evil” to create a film that externally manifests such concepts, is intriguing and feels fresh. All the actors deliver convincing, compelling performances, in a story that demands the expression of the deepest intimate feelings toward love interests and toward family and community that reject fundamental aspects of the two main characters. Naim turns to his mother for help, but he is met with a combination of love and strict adherence to her church and its prohibitions. At one point, Arlene tells her son that we need fear in order to survive. Realizing one is on their own in the face of not only self-discovery but in facing threats related to it is itself horrific and isolating.

The entity that is stalking these three young gay men in the guise of their desire embodies these inner complexities, but as used in the film it falls short of full exploration or elucidation, achieving scares and emotionally effective moments but not laid out clearly enough to follow determined rules or make entire sense within the film’s world. Certain laws regarding the evil force are established, but many of the scenes involving the threat are confusing in terms of the consistency of its actions and abilities; it can easily kill someone in one moment but then have difficulty pulling it off with the other characters over the course of many encounters.

I found myself having to try to fill in confusing gaps in logic or try to piece together the rationale behind certain moments (why does it show up in some places and times but not in others, etc). While this could have been solved through rewriting before filming, it did not ultimately get in the way of the broader impact as a whole. And this was largely due to the committed, believable performances of the two young lead actors, who both have big careers ahead of them. The film could have easily come across as more concerned with the political issue than with storytelling, but Chiarella manages to lead with the story and absorbing characters while addressing the topic through how the film unfolds, a feat for any director and especially a first-timer. For these reasons, Leviticus is effective and worth watching.