The very real horror of so-called gay conversion therapy is given a stark if somewhat shallow supernatural twist in this atmospheric film from Australia.

In a devoutly Christian industrial town, newcomer Raim (Joe Bird) befriends Ryan (Stacy Clausen), another teenager from his school.

Their friendship develops into something more after the pair share a secret kiss. However, when Raim catches Ryan with another boy, he outs Ryan to his family, who take Ryan to a "deliverance healer". The evangelical leader performs a ceremony intended to "cure" Ryan of his queerness and, in the days that follow, he doesn’t seem like himself.

A worried Raim witnesses Ryan talking to thin air and, later, an unsettling encounter at a roller rink makes him wonder if Ryan is in the grip of a malevolent entity.

It’s best to go into Leviticus knowing little more than that (avoid the trailers!), although it’s not a huge spoiler to say that the film owes a debt to 2014’s It Follows. Where that film used an invisible and seemingly inescapable aggressor as a metaphor for sexually transmitted disease, here the allegory is homosexuality.

It’s a strong concept from which debut director Adrian Chiarella spins out some effective moments of terror rooted in the queer experience. The fear of judgement and exposure is ever-present, particularly in the form of the boys' parents, whose own worry for their sons' safety leads them to commit an altogether more devastating kind of violence in the form of religious intervention.

That notion in particular is horribly effective, as it turns authentic, innocent desire into something dangerous. The nature of the film’s antagonist makes it impossible for Raim and other queer characters to recognise friend from foe — in this story, the people who should bring you comfort, safety and joy become the biggest threat of all. The call is very much coming from inside the house.

It’s a stark depiction of isolation, and the film excels in its portrayal of queer loneliness. "You shouldn’t be near me," Raim tells Ryan at one point. "I shouldn’t be near you either." Loneliness is the reason Raim outed Ryan in the first place, and there is a visceral kind of terror to one scene in which a gay youth under attack receives no help from bystanders.

This theme resonates through some genuinely haunting imagery, such as a strip of pictures from a photo booth, the opening scene in a swimming pool shower, and a shot of telegraph towers that suggests a toxic signal is being broadcast in the town by its religious leaders.

The metaphors are strong, but the relationship drama is less successful. While Bird and Clausen sell their sweet romance well, the dynamic between Raim and his mother (Mia Wasikowska, who executive produces) feels less focused. The film skates over their exchanges with clunky dialogue that undermines the otherwise fertile themes at play, and Wasikowska’s character comes across as a confused caricature of brittle motherhood.

In recent years, Australia has once again proved itself an exciting source of original horror. While Leviticus doesn’t reach the same heights as Talk to Me (2022), Relic (2020) or The Babadook (2013), it does mark Chiarella as a talent to watch.

While the film struggles to fully engage with the heavy topics at its heart, its images of gay men both clinging to and tormented by the objects of their desire can’t help but linger in the mind.

Leviticus is released in UK cinemas on Wednesday 2 September 2026.

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