Sundance film festival: Conversion therapy has gory results in a smart and surprisingly romantic debut feature from Australian writer-director Adrian Chiarella

Something rather nasty is unfolding in Sundance horror Leviticus. If you asked the god-fearing residents of the isolated Australian town at its centre, they would say it’s the curse of homosexuality, quietly infecting the youth. If you asked the gay teens themselves, they would say it’s something far more horrifying.

In writer-director Adrian Chiarella’s indelible debut feature, queer desire is not only a danger to one’s safety from the bigots that you live, work and pray with, but it’s also a supernatural affliction. We first see teens Naim (Joe Bird) and Ryan (Stacy Clausen) as they engage in a clandestine hang, that familiar dance of a play-fight leading into a kiss. For Naim, it’s a new world opening up, a reason to believe there might be something to be happy about in an otherwise dull new town with his warm yet clueless single mother (Mia Wasikowska). But when Naim sees Ryan engaging in a similar tryst with Hunter (Jeremy Blewitt), the son of the local preacher, he allows his heart to overrule his head and does something he’ll live to regret.

Leviticus is screening at the Sundance film festival and is seeking distribution

Sundance film festival: As a provocative artist using sex to wield power, the actor is electric but the writer-director’s return to his campy, dayglo roots is largely underwhelming

While Sundance is traditionally focused on the importance of looking to the future of American film, a lineup filled with more first-timers than any other major festival, this year has been all about looking back. There are misty eyes over the loss of founder Robert Redford along with host state Utah and also for the many films that have premiered here over the years. Alongside more retrospective screenings than one usually expects, even the new films have a touch of old Sundance to them.

On opening day, Rachel Lambert’s small town drama Carousel conjured up memories of quiet character driven indies of the late 90s and early 00s and then, on a Friday full of packed out premieres, I Want Your Sex took us back to the era’s more in-your-face acts of provocation, made by renegade outsiders who would have otherwise struggled to find a place in the industry. It’s the new film from Gregg Araki, a film-maker who was at the forefront of this particular wave, one of Sundance’s most loved enfants terribles. He’s premiered most of his films here, from “heterosexual movie” The Doom Generation to magnum opus Mysterious Skin to all-time stoner comedy Smiley Face to 2014’s misbegotten drama White Bird in a Blizzard, his last film until now.

I Want Your Sex is screening at the Sundance film festival and is seeking distribution

Sundance film festival: there’s a dearth of both laughs and scares in this one-joke comedy horror that feels like it would have made for a better short film

Before we get Ayo Edebiri and Daniel Kaluuya’s take on an A24 Barney movie, a project that’s been in some various level of development hell for seven years, here comes Buddy. Like an off-brand ripoff from the 90s (anyone remember Ricky’s Room?), he’s another friendly, furry friend to wide-eyed young children, the main star of a TV show we’re thrown straight into, neatly styled to feel like we’re suddenly transported back to that era (similar to 2024’s far darker and far superior Sundance throwback I Saw the TV Glow).

The formula is familiar – lessons, singing, syllables overpronounced – but there’s something off. The persistence of Buddy, an orange unicorn with undying enthusiasm, is bordering on aggressive as his playful suggestion to dance suddenly devolves into something far more sinister. What if Buddy isn’t really our friend after all?

Buddy is screening at the Sundance film festival and is seeking distribution

Sundance film festival: an often lushly made yet frustratingly undercooked small town indie kicks off this year’s festival with disappointment

And so this year’s Sundance has officially begun, with grief over the loss of founder Robert Redford and its move from long-running home Park City likely to drown out the sounds of anyone talking about the first narrative premiere. It wouldn’t be the first time it has started with a whimper (unofficial opening day films have previously included misfires like After the Wedding, Freaky Tales, Netflix’s Taylor Swift doc and last year’s Jimpa) but there’s something specifically disappointing about a film such as Carousel showing at a festival such as Sundance.

It’s the sort of small, character-driven American indie that has served as the festival’s lifeblood for almost 50 years and, as the system has expanded in some ways and shrunk in others, the sort that has often struggled to make it far out of Park City. Back in 2023, a quiet, disarming and perfectly Sundance film called A Little Prayer premiered yet didn’t get released until late last summer and was seen by a precious few. The world is not kind to films like Carousel at this very moment and while I would love to see this particular subgenre flourish in the way it used to back in the 90s and 00s, it’s hard to muster up much in the way of strong feelings here.

Carousel is screening at the Sundance film festival and is seeking distribution