Leviticus (Adrian Chiarella, 2026)

Abomination

Year is only about halfway done and I'll say it: Adrian Chiarella's Leviticus is the best horror of the year.  I mean-- something better might come in October (Eggers' Werwulf comes out December), but can't imagine what that might be, or how it can be.

And yes I can see the pic's DNA-- Chiarella borrows freely from David Robert Mitchell's It Follows, from the cursed teens to the relentless pursuit to the industrial wasteland that serves as backdrop to the chase. Crucial difference: the creature takes the form of the one you most desire, which frankly is a brilliant conceit. Bad enough if the pursuer is ceaseless, tireless, near invincible; what if it looks like someone who turns you on? Are you willing to experience the moment of your life, even if it may be your last?

In this case one Naim (Joe Bird, so memorable in Talk to Me) finds himself attracted to Ryan (Stacy Clausen); when Naim feels betrayed he outs Ryan to the adults, who drag the latter before a 'deliverance healer' for a 'cleansing ritual.' 

One other thing this film shares with It Follows: the horror element is the least interesting element. More fascinating-- more familiar, more relevant, more ultimately horrifying-- is the fact that what brings all this about is something we've all heard about before, and hear from louder than ever: homophobia, and parents' desire to rid their children of tendencies using therapy or religious ritual or a combination of both. Chiarella researched the topic, likely cobbled something together, and it's the simplicity of the ritual and the immediacy and intensity of the results that get to you: no digital manipulation, no fancy special effects, just what looks unnervingly like lived experience. Like it's happening here and now, right in front of you. 

And the curse is bad enough, but wouldn't have half its power if Bird and Clausen don't sell you the idea that Naim and Ryan are good for each other-- that Naim has suddenly found himself in love with a young blonde god, and Ryan basks in the former's adoration as if lying on a beach under a warming sun. You want them for each other, you feel for Naim when he sees Ryan kissing another boy, you understand-- tho you don't quite forgive-- Naim for his bitter spiteful response. 

It has to work that way or it doesn't work at all, and due respect to Chiarella for taking the risks he does with that relationship, telling it in only so much time with so many minutes and then trusting us-- and his actors performing their delicately sketched romance-- to buy into them. Some viewers may not and I hear em-- big leap Chiarella asks us to make-- but  it does work for me, at least. 

Once Chiarella has us he can pretty much do what he wants; reel the narrative in to an unbearable tautness or give us some play, allowing us to flop about in panic wondering when where how Ryan might pop up next, even introducing Chekov's massive steel T-joint that one and then the other teen tries to lift (must weigh a hundred pounds) and you know is going to come into play sometime-- hoary device, but since we care, if we care, it nevertheless works. 

MVP is Mia Wasikowska as Arlene, Naim's mother. Often receding into the background to the point of invisibility she's actually the corner post that holds the various wire strands in place, being both Naim's legal custodian and the town's newly appointed unofficial unheralded moral vanguard. She's like most folks that surround me in daily life, quiet and civil and even goodhearted as far as everyday social interaction goes; you have to dig deep to learn her dearly held opinions and what you find in there is much like what you find when flipping over a particularly broad and heavy rock. It's pale and bloated moist, and squirms violently when exposed to sunlight. 

Side note (skip this and the next paragraph if you haven't seen the film!): odd yet how totally appropriate that Spielberg (who's Jewish) in Disclosure Day manages to present to us an openminded openhearted ultimately comforting Catholic faith-- he is or at least wants to be a comforting filmmaker, one who confirms our best instincts (that's why I much prefer his more amoral work, ostensibly aimed at sheer mechanical pleasure (The Lost World, Duel, Jaws, 1941)-- because then he feels free enough to be truly subversive). Chiarella (who mentions being sent to an all-boys' religious school) lets Catholicism or Christianity or some obscure sect thereof have it between the legs, with his 'healer' complete with crucifix and nickel-and-chrome Zippo lighter performing an exorcism that achieves its opposite, attaching a demonic figure to the hapless victim. 

And finally that ending, and the unspoken horror attached. Yes Naim and Ryan run off together, and yes together they have a chance at survival, but only if they stay together all the time; the moment one steps out of the other's eyesight all bets are off. This is a more difficult lifestyle to pull off than one might imagine, and for a suggestion of what that might be like we have Jean Cocteau's Orphee, where Orpheus has to live with Eurydice at the same time not look at her. You're sorry for poor Orpheus same time you can't help laughing at him, and in the end you feel every exasperating detail of his predicament. A similar fate is in store for Naim and Ryan, I imagine, tho I also imagine there's a point when one can't just spend one's life treading carefully through a minefield. Sticking with Ryan is a commitment, not a carefully thought out decision; you may come to regret that decision, but I doubt if you'll ever regret making a decision. Plus deciding to run away with someone may sound corny but it's an appealing kind of corny; Ryan if he knows what's good for him should appreciate the romanticism of the gesture.