(SeaPRwire) –
By: Julian Holbrooke
Conversion therapy doesn’t need demons to destroy lives. Adrian Chiarella’s Leviticus gives those horrors a tangible face. The film’s supernatural curse isn’t fantasy. It’s a mirror held up to real harm inflicted on queer teens. Too many still dismiss this harm as a “moral correction.” Leviticus refuses to look away.
Official synopses frame Leviticus as a supernatural thriller. It follows timid Naim, played by Joe Bird, new to a drab Australian industrial town. His mom Arlene, portrayed by Mia Wasikowska, is a born-again Christian. She drags him to hellfire sermons every weekend. Naim hides a secret: he’s seeing laddish classmate Ryan, played by Stacy Clausen. Their quiet, affectionate bond shatters when they’re caught. The church brings in a “Deliverance Healer,” Nicholas Hope, to exorcise their “demonic” sexuality. Their pastor, Ewen Leslie, calls it a cure. But the subtext hits harder. This town isn’t just a setting. It’s any community where queer teens are made to feel like outsiders. The exorcism isn’t a religious rite. It’s a tool of control, used to enforce conformity.
Official reviews note Leviticus’s similarities to It Follows. The doppelgänger rules mirror David Robert Mitchell’s classic. Critics call this a weakness. The cinematography, with overcast skies and claustrophobic shots, also nods to 2010s elevated horror, like The Babadook. But the subtext tells a different story. Those doppelgängers aren’t random monsters. They’re the self-loathing and paranoia conversion therapy breeds. Naim sees Ryan trying to kill him. Ryan sees Naim doing the same. It’s the fear of tainting loved ones, of being unworthy of love. The film’s grisly scenes of queer teens dying aren’t shock value. They’re a raw depiction of the harm inflicted by rejection. For LGBTQIA+ adults, the film is cathartic. It echoes their own upbringings or fates they escaped. And for those worried about the “bury your gays” trope? The entity has weaknesses. The church takes blame, but the harshest judgment falls on parents. They choose social acceptance over their own kids.
In 2026, conversion therapy is banned in much of Australia and 22 US states. But it’s not gone everywhere. The global surge in right-wing conservatism is swinging the pendulum backward. Queer teens in unregulated regions aren’t just facing judgment. They’re facing the same psychological torture Leviticus lays bare. Bans on conversion therapy are a start. But they won’t fix the root of the problem: the fear of difference that fuels hate. Leviticus hits theaters June 19 via NEON.
Author bio: Julian Holbrooke, an international relations analyst contributing to major European dailies, focuses on social justice and global cultural trends.