Leviticus

Oooh...a feature debut that does not behave like a [normal feature] debut!

Named for the Old Testament book so often brandished as a weapon, Leviticus takes two teenage boys in a remote Australian town — Naim [Joe Bird, already a face you trust after Talk to Me] and Ryan [newcomer Stacy Clausen] — and lets them fall for each other the only way teenagers fall: awkwardly, in stutter-steps, with far too much looking and not enough saying. Then the town, the church and a deliverance healer [Nicholas Hope, reliably unsettling] decide the feelings must be cut out. What comes back is not a cure. It is a demon that wears the face of the person you most want. Yip, complex!

Comparisons to It Follows might [probably, will] be made...and, yes, something follows. But, that is a disservice. Mr Chiarella is after something thornier: the horror of hurting the one you love...and, of being made to hate the wanting itself. Con[a]version therapy, here, is not a subplot. It is the monster’s afterbirth.

Ambition is everywhere...the Biblical title, the bent-revolt dressed as a fright-flick, the refusal to treat first love as mere set-up for the scares. Complexity, too. Mia Wasikowska’s mother is not a cartoon zealot; the boys are not symbols; the entity is both interloper and mirror. A debut with this many moving parts usually trips in the final third, over-explains the rules, or sands the tenderness off until only the gore remains. Mr Chiarella does not shy away from those pitfalls. He walks straight at them...and, more often than not, steps over...with a dignified flare.

Bird and Clausen carry it. The chemistry is natural, tender, a little mortifying — swagger one minute, total exposure the next. A home-alone set-piece escalates from panic to shocking violence without the film losing the ache underneath. The score glows; the light is luminous; the ugliness, when it arrives, is ugly on purpose.

Not quite perfect. A few thematic destinations are gestured at rather than reached, and 88 minutes leaves some supporting souls on the periphery. No matter. This is heartfelt horror with something to say, and ugly/beautiful ways of saying it. Love was never the curse. Shame was.

Despite the [budgetary] stumbles, a well-deserved 3 stars. A director with a future. Watch this space...and, perhaps, lock the door. Because, if this is his starting point...only his imagination will restrict him.

Trailer...