Leviticus

In a season of splashy horror debuts, the most unsettling of them all is also the quietest. Aussie director Adrian Chiarella does offer us a supernatural big bad in Leviticus, but it’s very nearly beside the point. The real terrors here are entirely human: cruelty, fear, ignorance, and alienation.

Leviticus is so spare that it requires everyone to work on all cylinders, so it’s pretty remarkable that Chiarella was able to hit such a high level with his first feature. By stripping away anything even remotely extraneous, he’s achieved a palpable sense of gothic anguish. And by casting his leads so perfectly, he’s also made one of the most touching romances of the year.

Joe Bird (Talk to Me) is Naim, an Australian teen who’s just been moved to the middle of nowhere by his deceptively passive mother (Mia Wasikowska). Their upheaval seems to have been inspired by her connection with a small community that would be tempting to call cultish. But in truth, the group’s values feel as familiar as those that underpin a great many major religions. Among these is the belief – cited from the Book of Leviticus – that homosexuality is an abomination to be snuffed out immediately.

This is a problem for Naim since he’s falling in love for the first time, with the equally disaffected Ryan (Stacy Clausen). When they’re discovered – in two gorgeously-realised scenes as tense as any horror moment – the elders take swift action. As a form of conversion therapy, the two are imbued with a demon that looks like love. So they never know whether they are seeing each other, or a monster that wants to kill them.

In a season of splashy horror debuts, the most unsettling of them all is also the quietest

Wasikowska is underused as Naim’s eerie mother, but that does allow these ideally-paired leads to fully inhabit the film’s centre. Naim is a walking cloud of dark confusion, which the extroverted Ryan sees as an irresistible challenge. Both actors are outstanding, and their characters come to feel like the only humane elements in this bleak and beautifully rendered outpost. We are not just hoping they survive, but need to see them find a way to thrive. And yet, they might as well be alone and on another planet, for all the help they receive in their distress.

Genre fans should know, going in, that the supernatural element is consistently underwhelming. The fear here comes from a more chilling sense of reality: there is no one the boys can count on but themselves, until their community tries to steal even that.

Horror is often used allegorically, and Chiarella never bothers to hide his intentions. He’s made a pretty straightforward story about the crushing pain of a world that refuses to accept you. But also and this is what elevates Leviticus so far above similar indies the eminent relief when you finally find someone who does.

In Australian cinemas now and US theaters Fri May 19.