Even before the 1980s, horror movies were associating sex and death. The former often led to the latter, but for the horny teens consuming these movies, the hedonism was maybe worth the risk. “Au contraire” say the Evangelical Australians, who will do anything to keep their kids from swinging the wrong way. For Naim and his on-again-off-again friend-hook-up-lover Ryan, the cure is way worse than the disease in director-screenwriter Adrian Chiarella’s Leviticus, the opening night film of this year’s New Directors/New Films.
Naim and his mother recently moved to the sleepy provincial town after enduring a vague, never fully explained trauma. Clearly, she has adopted religion as her coping mechanism—the more old-time, the better. Despite their church’s funky-aspiring Christian rock band, Naim is more interested in exploring his sexuality, preferably with Ryan. Unfortunately, Ryan also does some exploring with the “blue jeans” pastor’s son.
In a fit of jealousy, Naim informs on Ryan and his rival, but soon regrets it. To cure the boys, the congregation brings in a “Deliverance Preacher” who essentially places a curse on the lads. Every night, a demon will taunt them in the form of the one they most desire. According to the film’s logic, this is intended to scare them straight, literally. Yet, if it actually worked, wouldn’t the demon subsequently take the shape of women?
Regardless, Naim’s mother soon commits the ultimate betrayal, by arranging his own session with the Deliverance Preacher. Ironically, she drives Naim back to Ryan. Despite the risks, they join forces, in hopes of devising a way to undo the curse. As long as they are with someone, the demon cannot approach. Yet, as soon as they separate, they cannot tell whether the doppelganger might be appearing before them, instead their forbidden lover.
Clearly, Leviticus (named for the Old Testament book with the hardcore fire-and brimstone reputation) owes an enormous debt of gratitude to David Robert Mitchell’s It Follows. Chiarella and cinematographer Tyson Perkins stage several darkly sinister scenes, in which tremendous tension is built from the is-he-or-isn’t-he question. Frankly, the paranoia of not being able to trust the one you adore the most is quite terrifying.
However, the entire curse business makes little sense and the depiction of the Evangelicals is distractingly heavy-handed and simplistic. If Chiarella were to make a film about Berber nomads, he would probably try to understand their culture, their values, and their world view. Yet, obviously, no such effort was made with Evangelicals. The truth is they simply do not talk or think as Chiarella depicts. The absence of such understanding leaves Leviticus conspicuously populated with straw men, whose only purpose is to undermine the beliefs they supposedly profess. That’s projection and wish fulfilment.


























