Demon Hunts Queer Teens

For most people, demons are merely fantasy figures found only in horror movies. Yet in some Christian communities, real exorcisms still occur from time to time, aimed at delivering people from supposed demons — sometimes at the individuals’ own request, if they truly believe they’re possessed. Even very devout parents of queer teenagers have considered taking their child to an exorcist, particularly when conversion therapy — unsurprisingly — hasn’t produced results.

The new Australian horror film “Leviticus” — the opening film at the nationwide Fantasy Filmfest in September — toys with these ideas and essentially flips them on their head: of course the queerness of the teens isn’t the result of a demon to be exorcised. Instead, a religious ritual performed because of their sexuality opens the door to a particularly sinister demon that now targets the two boys.

A Tragic Betrayal

Naim (Joe Bird) and Ryan (Stacy Clausen) live in a rural community where religion plays a central role. They quietly attend the local pastor’s service (Ewen Leslie). What no one suspects is that they recently shared a kiss while fooling around in an abandoned factory, and at least Naim is deeply in love — until he secretly observes Ryan doing the same with Hunter (Jeremy Blewitt), the pastor’s son.

Hurt and jealous, he betrays the two to the pastor, who soon offers a so-called liberation healer (Nicholas Hope) to perform a religious rite. During the next service, Ryan and Hunter undergo the ritual, and by the end they lie convulsing on the floor — with Naim watching in a daze of guilt.

First Kiss, Then an Attempted Murder

But that is only the beginning. In the days that follow, Naim makes several troubling observations. He sees Ryan, then Hunter, in apparent interaction with an invisible presence — first in a consensual way, then violently resisting. Ryan, left badly hurt, survives, while Hunter is dragged into the darkness in front of Naim and is later found dead. Meanwhile, Ryan begins to fear him as well. And because Naim continues to seek Ryan’s company, his mother (Mia Wasikowska) suspects that her son might be gay as well and forces him to see the liberation healer. Despite strong resistance, Naim must endure the ritual.

When, shortly after, outside Hunter’s funeral, Naim encounters Ryan again, Ryan seems unusually open — the two kiss. Then, out of nowhere, Ryan attacks him. Naim barely escapes to join the other guests, only to be confronted by Ryan once more, who reveals a similar assault carried out by someone who looked and behaved like Naim.

To Keep Distance Out of Fear?

Their further investigations reveal that the religious ritual opened a doorway for a demon that takes the shape of the person who is currently the dearest to you. Yet the demon only manifests when you are alone, a peril hard to avoid in their sparsely populated region. For Naim and Ryan, this observation confirms the reality of their love — because otherwise the demon would not adopt the other’s form for both of them. At the same time, they realize the danger they’re in. Essentially there are two solutions: stay together constantly or split up completely — because if the other appears again, it can only be the demon. “That’s exactly what they wanted,” Ryan says at one point, “that we fear each other.” The question is what’s stronger: fear, love, or the demon?

The film’s title references the Book of Leviticus in the Old Testament, which has long weighed heavily in debates over the Christian stance toward homosexuality. It states that a man shall not lie with another man as with a woman. This ethic governs much of Ryan and Naim’s world — especially their mother, who clearly understands the danger she’s exposing her son to when she forces him into the liberation healer.

The Ruthlessness of Incredibly Faithful Parents

Leviticus works effectively as a horror film and largely adheres to the conventions of the genre. Its treatment of the challenges faced by queer youths growing up in religious families makes it especially resonant for queer audiences. It also gives gay director and screenwriter Adrian Chiarella the chance to expose the mercilessness with which these queer teens confront reality: instead of Christian values like charity and empathy, they encounter cold rejection or outright hatred from devout families — and ultimately those parents aren’t far removed from the demon in the film. In several interviews, Chiarella explained that the movie draws from real life: the political backlash against queer people in recent years, and numerous real exorcism attempts and conversion therapies. He also emphasizes that Leviticus is a love story at its core. “There are horror elements, but at the end it’s about finding first love.” It’s a sentiment that some audiences may recognize as a more hopeful takeaway than the film’s terrifying premise would suggest.