By Jason Osiason

Leviticus is the real deal. A marvelously directed queer reverse exorcism conversion therapy horror built around the idea that fear makes us strong but love makes us worth being strong. The film follows two teenage boys in a deeply religious community whose relationship is discovered and condemned, leading to a church intervention meant to purge their feelings that instead unleashes something monstrous. Desire and emotion become the villains, reframing that out of body loss of control feeling as the true terror. What begins as spiritual correction turns into a haunting nightmare where the very thing they feel for each other becomes the force stalking them.

The scares and gore are genuinely terrifying and hit with brutal force when the film finally unleashes them, but what makes Leviticus stand apart is how richly character based it is.

Where films like Talk To Me and It Follows lean heavily on the strength of their central concept, this movie builds its horror through the emotional connection between the boys at the center of it. The direction is confident and controlled, letting quiet dread simmer before letting violence break through, and the result is a horror movie that feels less like a gimmick and more like a deeply felt story about shame, desire, and the terrifying power structures that try to control both.

And then the ending lands like a punch to the chest. A hauntingly moving final scene that completely reframes everything that came before it and lingers long after the credits roll. It is rare for a horror movie to stick the landing with this much emotional force, but Leviticus does exactly that and I have a feeling that final moment is going to stay with me all year. [A]