Leviticus Review: A Haunting Love Story Wrapped in Supernatural Terror

At the 2026 Sundance Film Festival, Leviticus emerged as one of the most emotionally striking and thematically daring films to debut in the Midnight lineup. Written and directed by Adrian Chiarella, the film blends supernatural horror with an intimate coming-of-age love story, creating a haunting experience that lingers long after the final frame fades to black.

Set within an isolated Australian town steeped in religious tradition and quiet repression, Leviticus follows two teenage boys whose growing bond becomes both a source of comfort and a dangerous act of defiance. What begins as a tender exploration of first love slowly transforms into something far more unsettling, as the environment around them — shaped by fear, secrecy, and moral absolutism — begins to fracture their sense of safety. The film never rushes this transformation, allowing its emotional weight to build naturally alongside its creeping sense of dread.

Rather than relying on conventional jump scares, Leviticus thrives on atmosphere. Chiarella uses silence, shadow, and religious symbolism to create an ever-present tension that feels almost suffocating. The horror doesn’t simply exist in what lurks beyond the frame, but in the characters’ internal conflict — the fear of being seen, the terror of desire, and the consequences of living authentically in a world that refuses to allow it.

The performances are a major strength. Joe Bird and Stacy Clausen deliver deeply vulnerable portrayals, grounding the supernatural elements in raw emotional truth. Their chemistry feels lived-in and sincere, making the stakes of their relationship heartbreakingly real. Mia Wasikowska, Jeremy Blewitt, and Davida McKenzie further elevate the film, each contributing performances that enrich the emotional landscape rather than overshadow it. Together, the cast ensures that Leviticus never loses its humanity, even as its horror intensifies.

What makes Leviticus especially compelling is its ability to balance tenderness and terror. The film explores queerness not as spectacle, but as something fragile and sacred — something worth protecting, even when doing so comes at great cost. The horror becomes a reflection of societal pressure, faith weaponized, and the damage inflicted when love is treated as sin. It’s a bold and emotionally honest approach that distinguishes the film from more traditional genre entries.

Having attended the world premiere at Sundance, the audience response was palpable. There was a quiet stillness during key moments — the kind that only occurs when viewers are fully locked in — followed by an emotional release as the film concluded. Leviticus doesn’t offer easy answers, but it doesn’t need to. Its power lies in its willingness to sit with discomfort and allow emotion to take precedence over explanation.

Ultimately, Leviticus stands as one of Sundance 2026’s most affecting Midnight selections — a film that understands horror as an extension of lived experience rather than mere spectacle. Adrian Chiarella announces himself as a filmmaker unafraid to confront difficult themes with empathy, restraint, and confidence. This is a deeply felt, beautifully unsettling work that will resonate strongly with audiences who appreciate horror that cuts far deeper than the surface.

Rating: ★★★★½ / 5