REVIEW: ‘Leviticus’ Is A Chilling Coming-Of-Age Queer Horror Story

Taking solid inspirations from It Follows, the Sundance horror film, Leviticus (2026) is effortlessly tense, deeply emotional, and one of the best midnighters on the international film festival’s programming. Written and directed by Adrian Chiarella, the film’s title draws inspiration from the Bible; the coming-of-age horror story draws on real life to spin its terror.

Perfectly named and taking the real-life horror of “praying the gay away” as inspiration, the terror begins when two teens have their lives turned upside down as a threatening presence begins stalking them. Only, the sinister entity takes the shape of the person you want the most, only to kill you if you give in to your desire.

The audience knows the danger that Naim (Joe Bird) and Ryan (Stacy Clausen) are in for, thanks to a brutal cold open. But despite the fear, they try to stick together. That is, until Ryan learns that Naim’s jealous actions have caused the situation. As the duo navigates the situation, they see visions of each other that quickly become violent, bloodying them and causing them to lose all trust. 

Leviticus (2026) is the strongest of Sundance’s midnighters.

Throughout the film’s short runtime, it’s clear that fear is the purpose. The church can’t turn the two young men straight, but it can make them too scared to act on their emotions. It can keep them apart through the threat of death. 

Leviticus (2026) is a heavy film that finds moments of tender respite in its intimacy. Without being entirely suffocating, writer-director Adrian Chiarella allows the audience to feel the joy and safety of young love, only to shatter it. Haunted by the threat of violence and shunned by the zealots they call their community, they have to make a choice: stay a part, or try to always be at each other’s side. 

That’s the important message that Leviticus leaves its audience with. Do you love someone even when doing so will cause others to harm you? Do you trust your heart and put your body on the line? The film weaves in this question with tender, sensual moments and ultimately captures this star-crossed love with earnestness elevated by the horror genre. 

Horror is a genre meant to reflect our real fears, and in that, Leviticus (2026) is perfect.

With the queer community coming under increasing violence and continuously targeted by laws, including in the state of Utah, where Sundance is held, Leviticus (2026) feels devastating at times. It highlights the danger that comes bearing a cross and emphasizes that whatever Ryan or Naim do, they will have to live with. The entity will never stop haunting them, and it can never be reversed. 

By using the romance itself as the vehicle for danger, Chiarella crafts a story that’s violence is difficult to watch. Gruesome in moments, but always measured, putting emotion over spectacle, Leviticus cares about its characters in a deeply personal way, and as a member of the audience, so do you. 

As the primary character, Naim’s love and fear are articulated in a devastating way. Even as he begins to learn about the entity and how to survive it, he can’t help but be terrified, and he can’t help but keep turning to the entity. It’s Ryan afterall. 

Leviticus’s attention to religious zealotry and bigotry is unyielding.

Still, as the film comes to its end, it shows the audience the choice that Naim has to make. But more importantly, it gives the reality of the harm that queer people are subjected to simply for wanting safety and happiness.

Making the choice to endure and survive together, rather than alone, is how you win. Despite mean moments, Leviticus (2026) offers hope. It offers respite and love, even if it means leaving everything you love behind and accepting the danger that comes simply from living as yourself. 

Both young actors Joe Bird and Stacy Clansen are phenomenal in their roles. Their visceral reactions to moments of fear are gripping, but their romance is every bit as charming as it is sensual. From their dialogue delivery to their ability to move by just exchanging a look, Bird and Clansen are stars that will only shine brighter. 

Joe Bird and Stacy Clausen are stars who deserve your attention. 

Stylistically, this 88-minute movie does a lot with a small number of locations, prioritizing closer shots of the characters than shots that lock the story into one place and time. Its pacing is excellent, and the performances are among the best. Instead, Leviticus feels timeless, and because of that, it stands as a pillar of queer horror. 

With intense moments of violence and equally impactful moments of romance, Leviticus is thrilling and terrifying because of the real-world fear it brings to life. A blend of It Follows and The Summer Hikaru Died, Leviticus never feels repetitive. Instead, its earnest nature grounds the audience as you root for Naim to embrace his life and his love. 

Leviticus (2026) offers jumpscares and deeply realistic moments of conversation that will shake audience members who have experienced this brand of Christian homophobia, but it never gets lost in it. Instead, this is an example of why horror exists: to tell stories, building an empathetic bridge between the audience and the subject, and exposing the culture in which it’s created. 

Leviticus (2026) screened as a part of the 2026 Sundance Film Festival and does not currently have a distributor.