"Leviticus" is a Major Horror Revelation
- Eric Hardman
- 6 minutes ago
- 3 min read
The past few years have been on a wild run for emerging horror filmmakers. Since 2025 in particular, it seems as if for every standard piece of horror fare, we’re met with at least two films that transcend what we thought the genre was previously capable of. Adrian Chiarella’s new film, Leviticus keeps this trend going with its horrifying, yet ultimately hopeful exploration of love and identity.

Amidst a rural industrial backdrop, two teenage boys must escape a violent entity that takes the form of the person they desire most…each other. Quickly coined “gay It Follows” in casual conversation leading up to its release, this comparison remains a really funny one. In that functionally, it almost fits that description too well. But thematically, Leviticus is tapping into something completely different from It Follows, and packs an emotional wallop while doing so, all in a tight 88 minutes.
The criticisms that are already being directed the film’s way are certainly understandable. Especially when it comes to scale. The film is very contained, and is almost entirely uninterested in delivering answers when it comes to lore and world building. It’s implied that additional cases of what’s happening to our two main characters have happened to other people, but it’s only really in passing, without much room for future expansion. Given the close-knit setting of the film as well, the scale of the scares remains relatively stagnant. However, the technical tricks the film employs throughout to achieve really cool in-camera effects, as well as the consistently compounding dread was enough for me to almost completely overlook these points.
This film really scared me. A concept like this is the type of horror that authentically keeps me up at night. The quiet, never-ending dread that consistently builds in the background of the carnage on display. It’s not often I find myself vocalizing fear and thought while in the theater, but there are a couple of key moments in here that got me mumbling under my breath.
What’s even more effective than the scares is how absolutely devastating much of the character work is. Elevated by two incredible performances by Joe Bird and Stacy Clausen, the modernity of their landscape reminds us viewers that no matter where you are, our world still has a long road ahead when it comes to acceptance and tolerance. Our two main characters could not be more different, emotionally. In a way channeling the emotional states of the two leading men from Brokeback Mountain, their relationship is skating on extremely thin ice even before the entity is introduced. Pride and punishment in one’s feelings and who they choose to fall in love with is a dichotomy that is thoroughly explored in the film on a fundamental level, even without the supernatural elements, highlighting the devastation hatred and intolerance leaves in its wake.

But, if you can believe it, the film pulls off a hat trick that is nearly impossible to achieve in modern horror. In that it is simultaneously both things I just described, while also maintaining a small, damaged, yet still palpable sense of hope for not only these characters, but our world itself by the time the film concludes. The visuals and geographic backdrop of the film are oozing with so much dread, and lack of color that it can be hard to imagine throughout, anything good coming of the present situation. Having the characters be as young as they are likely aids the more hopeful elements to the film, and even in the most dire of conflicts throughout, the effort both of them give to not lose sight of their feelings for one another was deeply moving. There is one monologue in particular given by Joe Bird’s character leading in to the third act that moved me to tears.
Leviticus is the kind of film that wears its influences on its sleeve. There is no denying that. But its sheer commitment to said influences while carving out an entirely new set of thematic goals that arguably outdo said influences are where its genius truly lies. If you can slightly manage your expectations on what you want out of a film like this, and understand the film is more focused on its thematics and its characters more than its scares, I think you’ll find quite a bit to love here.