Heartbreaking Leviticus terrifying yet poignant
Though discredited, conversion therapy relating to homosexuality is still being used today, albeit with much less frequency. Some of these practices are folded into other approaches, have been renamed and also presented as a free speech issue through a U.S. Supreme Court ruling issued in early 2026. While steps are being taken to eradicate or render it illegal, the long shadow of this approach is still present, shouldered by those who’ve had to endure it.
Adrian Chiarella’s wildly ambitious, densely packed Leviticus looks at not simply the lingering effects of conversion therapy but its impact on those close to those who’ve been subjected to it. Running a taut 82 minutes, this low-budget affair succeeds thanks to the filmmaker’s clever horror conceit. Love and trust are the lure the entity at the center of the film uses to render his victims vulnerable to attack, ultimately leaving them emotionally shattered, unable to trust their own instincts and feelings.
Naim (Joe Bird) is a young man whose life has been upended in multiple ways. His father has died recently and he and his mother (Mia Wasikowska) have moved to the industrial community of Victoria, Australia, to start over. And while she has found solace in the fundamentalist church she’s joined, her son continues to flounder. He gets a lifeline from Ryan (Stacy Clausen), a handsome, dynamic classmate who’s obviously attracted to him. They have tentative interactions that lead to intimacy and soon fall in love.
However, that doesn’t stop Ryan from experimenting with others and when he’s caught in a compromising position with the pastor’s son (Jeremy Belwitt), they’re brought before the congregation. Publicly shamed, the two boys are forced to witness a ritual that will drive away their “impure thoughts.” Neither taking it seriously, this pair, nor Naim who is also affected, are prepared for the supernatural ramifications that result.
Chiarella wisely doesn’t initially explain the source of the violence that’s visited on these three, allowing the viewer to vicariously experience their own fear and confusion. Eventually, it becomes clear that Naim is being attacked by a creature that looks like but is not Ryan, that wishes to kill him. Ryan’s assailant has the same intent and looks like Naim but to complicate things further, no one but them can see these entities.
The attacks are sudden and shocking, Chiarella cutting off our field of vision with tight shots, creating a kind of tunnel vision. This proves to be an effective tool to convey the exclusivity of vision love can create, the euphoria present at the beginning of a relationship when you are consumed by the object of your affection at the expense of everything else. The lethality of this situation is driven home again and again, both Naim and Ryan falling victim to a creature who has the appearance of their respective lover, the result leaving both of them emotionally and physically wounded.
The parallels to the inherent pitfalls of emotional intimacy are obvious but no less effective. The seeming duplicity of a loved one – that person who’s vowed to love you forever but then suddenly breaks your heart – has rarely been presented with the kind of devastating power as it is here. As a result of these creatures’ actions, Naim and Ryan come to distrust one another, driving the doubt that results when a partner proves duplicitous.
But more than that is the way this premise hones in on the vagaries of conversion therapy. Denying a key part of yourself is the goal of this procedure, a result of the ritual Naim and Ryan endure and is reflected in the boys’ respective assailants. They come to doubt their own judgment, can no longer trust the person they’re devoted to and are forced to wrestle with the shame and confusion that result.
Bird and Clausen are both fantastic, each giving impassioned turns, both conveying the sense of confusion and hurt their characters are feeling in a way that’s palpable. The early scenes in which the actors capture the feelings of elation and security present in the first phases of a love affair prove haunting, when confronted with the emotionally battered and confused young men in the film’s final shot.
As dire as the film’s theme is, in the end Chiarella provides his two protagonists with a small degree of hope, suggesting they can find a fresh start in a new environment. Yet, Leviticus’ final message is they will never escape what they’ve experienced. Whether Naim and Ryan will ever be able to heal from the damage done to their psyches is in question. Chiarella’s film is a gift to anyone questioning their self-worth, reminding them that in their struggle, they are not alone. In Theaters.
Jessie takes center stage in Toy Story 5
I doubt that way back in 1995 (yes, it’s been 31 years) when John Lassiter, Pete Docter and Andrew Stanton released Toy Story that they knew they were embarking on creating a franchise that’s become a touchstone for so many people. Like the great Pixar films, the themes in the movie were aimed just at much at adults as it was kids, likely more so. That these films continue to remind us of the precious nature of childhood, the value of imagination and the importance of play, all conveyed by toys with a universal appeal, is quite remarkable.
The fifth entry in the series makes a conscious effort to speak to a new generation of kids as well as their parents, who were likely not yet teens in 1995. To be sure, the novelty of talking toys with an interior world of their own has worn off a bit, there’s still enough juice in the tank to make this sequel worthwhile. The gentle humor, the occasional double entendre and the endearing nature of the characters are still present, all in the service of delivering a vital, timely message.
Having found a home with Bonnie, the toys have settled into a routine. With Woody (voice by Tom Hanks) absent, having run off to find happiness with Bo Peep (Annie Potts), Jessie (Joan Cusack) has become the de facto leader of the group. As for Buzz (Tim Allen), he’s still around but he’s knocked back on his heels when he realizes he’s fallen in love with Jessie. He spends a good deal of time trying to come up with a romantic way to propose.
If the toys have one concern, it’s that Bonnie doesn’t seem to have any friends. One thing that keeps her on the outside is that she plays with old-fashioned toys, not electronic gizmos. Her parents rectify that by getting her a Lilypad (Greta Lee), a tablet geared toward helping her learn. They tell themselves they’ll limit her screen time. We all know how that turns out …
As Bonnie becomes more and more engrossed with her pad, the toys begin to suffer a collective existential crisis. This hits Jessie particularly hard, her memories of being abandoned by previous owners still painful. This is exacerbated when she ventures out and meets a pseudo-support group for abandoned toys who inform her “the age of toys is over.” Circumstances bring her back to the home of her original owner, an event that dredges up unwanted memories.
The continued appeal of the Pixar films has been their ability to channel genuine, real-world emotion into this artificial arena of play. Jessie’s angst over being forgotten and becoming irrelevant cuts deep, the faded names of her previous owners written upon her serving as scars. More than that, she’s contending with a fear of commitment, lamenting that, “I can’t love another kid just to find out I didn’t matter.” That we relate to her fears is a tribute to Pixar’s genius.
As with each new entry, a fresh group of toys are introduced, the most memorable being a trio Jessie meets at her old home. Atlas (Craig Robinson) is a toy hippo with a GPS who’s eager to give directions, while Snappy (Shelby Rabara) is a camera willing to take a picture of anything. However, the stand out is Smarty Pants (Conan O’Brien), a potty-training device in the shape a toilet roll and holder. His snarky comments and mild scatological humor are one of the film’s strongest assets. (See what I did there …)
While this is ostensibly Jessie’s story, Pixar knows what side their bread is buttered on and makes sure Woody returns to lend a hand in what’s become a predictable conclusion to these films. Yet, along the way writers McKenna Harris and Stanton come to terms with the movie’s central question in a wise, logical manner. In the end, Toy Story 5 reminds us that whether you’re a 6-year-old girl, a rag doll, an electronic gizmo or even a toy shaped like a roll of toilet paper, acceptance and validation are paramount to our well-being. And of course, having a healthy imagination. In Theaters.
Norwegian Kraken a worthy kaiju entry
Slickly produced and briskly told, Pal Oie’s Norwegian monster movie Kraken is a pleasant surprise though the tale has been often told. Using Jaws as its template, the film takes a surprising left turn in its third act when it ostensibly becomes a haunted house exercise in the Alien vein. Buoyed by a committed cast and digital visual effects that, for the most part, blend in with the movie’s natural environment, there’s a sense of realism to this cautionary tale that holds it in good stead.
The Songefjord, is a narrow, deep stretch of water to the tune of 1,300 meters. This makes it perfect for many things, including the operation of a huge fish farm as well as serving as a home for a massive sea creature. Much like the Loch Ness Monster, this behemoth has taken on mythic proportions as sightings of it have taken place over the years though no definitive proof of its existence has been found. That’s all about to change …
Johanne (Sara Khorami) is a marine biologist sent to the area to conduct an inspection on the salmon farm, as there have been reports of abnormal fish behavior and maybe a mutation or two. This is less than welcome news for the owner, Avaldsnes (Oyvind Brandtzaeg), who has plans to quickly expand his operation. While he’s showing perspective investors around the facility, we and they are educated about a new technology, Sonic Lice, that uses vibrations to alleviate parasites in the fish, insuring they grow larger and healthier. Coincidentally, Johanne was one of the inventors of this process, along with Erik (Mikkel Bratt Silset) who continues to work at the farm. Former lovers, their reunion is the very definition of “awkward.”
As with most things that muddle with the natural order, Sonic Lice is doing much more than just wiping out parasites. Seems it is trifling with the entire ecosystem, waking and upsetting the titular creature in the process. Mayhem ensues.
Oie keeps his cards close to his vest, putting off the monster reveal until the final half hour, giving the viewer a looming shadow or tentacle here or there to maintain our interest. Johanne’s reunion with the others makes up the bulk of the movie, all of which is more engaging than it ought to be. In addition to the aforementioned, are her old friend Henriette (Ingvild Holthe Bygdnes), now married to Avaldsnes, and her daughter Maria (Jenny Evensen), an environmental activist opposing her father’s efforts.
Johanne’s reckoning with these past relationships as more of the mystery surrounding the fjord activity is revealed, proves an effective narrative approach. It’s to Khorami’s credit that she holds the film together with her assured performance.
While most of the movie takes place on the water, the final 30 minutes becomes a claustrophobic nightmare. The salmon farm also houses a vast underwater network of passageways and tight quarters akin to a submarine. As Johanne and the others seek refuge there, the massive tentacles of the beast slither, snake down and go through the steely hallways, each seemingly having a life of its own while pursuing the nature-meddling humans. It’s silly, but it proves to be great fun.
Kraken certainly doesn’t reinvent the wheel where the Kaiju template is concerned. Yet, the unique locale for such a feature – its constantly overcast skies casting a dreary pall over it all – and the sincerity of the cast help make it a worthy entry to the genre. Available on Amazon Prime.
This article appears in June 18-24, 2026.
