Zohie Castellano's costume design for "Leviticus," the Neon horror film now in theaters, transforms the Australian outback into a landscape of dread through deceptively ordinary garments that conceal something sinister beneath. The designer spoke with IndieWire about her approach to hiding monsters in plain sight, crafting silhouettes and textures that evoke yearning and unease across vast, isolated terrain.

Castellano's strategy relies on restraint. Rather than reaching for obvious horror tropes, she anchors characters in authentic, weathered clothing that reflects the harsh Australian environment. This authenticity becomes the hook. Audiences trust what they see because it looks lived-in, real. Then the film subverts that trust. The costumes function as a visual grammar for how the ordinary world can turn monstrous when stripped of urban buffers and social scaffolding.

The designer's work reflects a broader shift in contemporary horror cinema away from spectacle toward psychological tension. Films like "Leviticus" understand that fear operates most effectively when it emerges from what we recognize, not from what clearly signals danger. Castellano's garments sit at that intersection, familiar enough to lower defenses yet crafted with enough deliberation to register as slightly off-kilter.

Her approach also captures the spatial isolation central to Australian gothic storytelling. The outback's vastness demands that characters exist in almost total self-reliance. Castellano's costumes underscore this solitude. Fabrics suggest exposure to elements. Silhouettes feel adapted to survival rather than social performance. A character's outfit becomes a chronicle of endurance.

"Leviticus" joins a growing roster of horror films receiving serious critical attention this summer, suggesting audiences hunger for intelligent scares rooted in atmosphere and craft rather than jump-scares and gore. Castellano's work exemplifies this trend. She demonstrates that costume design in horror functions not as window dressing but as a primary tool for building dread. When what we wear becomes a potential liability, when fashion itself turns uncanny, terror finds its deepest purchase