If you are even remotely plugged into the "scene" in Austin, you have been touched by Miguel Angel. He's either taken your photo at an event or provided the soundtrack to one of your wild and crazy Saturday nights.
Angel, also known as DJ uLOVEi ("I love u" backwards), has made a living creating and capturing moments in Austin as a DJ and photographer. On any given week you'll find him spinning hip hop at the Eastern, Cumbia at Takoba and "booty music" at Barberella. You'll also see him around town taking photos for Tribeza, KLRU and dozens of other organizations. "I love that I get to showcase Austin's unique personality through my music and photography," he says.
For someone so connected to the Capital City, it's hard to believe he's not from around here. Angel, 28, was born in Del Rio, served in the Marines and stumbled across Austin with no real plan. "After I got out of the military I had to find some place to live. I visited Austin a few times and felt like it had the right vibe and style for me," he says. Not only did he move to Austin, he's now part of the vibe and style that attracted him in the first place.
Angel was a photographer for the Marines and added spinning to his skills when he arrived in Austin. After successful shows at SXSW 2010, he decided to take a leap of faith and turn his hobbies into a profession. It meant leaving behind a steady job and income to follow his passion.
"At night everyone was patting me on my back, giving me high fives and buying me drinks," he says. "It was totally different during the day at my tech job where I had people yelling at me to fix their computers and treating me like crap." The only yelling Angel hears now are his fans shouting out requests for songs or trying to get his attention for a photo. He loves honoring both.
"I like to DJ because it allows me to express myself. It feels good to be in control of the music and the party. I also like that I can go to any party with my camera and meet everyone. They remember me and look for me and the photos I take."
Angel prides himself on being inclusive both professionally and personally. You'll find him spinning oldies but goodies for a swanky VIP party one night and then grunge music for a crowd of sweaty hipsters another. Plus, you can't help but notice the Human Rights Campaign logo displayed on his Mac during each show. The HRC is a national civil rights organization fighting for LGBT equality, and he is an advocate. "I don't understand why people's sexuality is still an issue. It makes me mad that people still hate on other people."
With so much going on, the busy DJ admits finding his soul mate has been hard. "Most girls can't handle the texts, photos and late nights," he says, but it's a part of the job he's not ready to give up. While he could easily play and photograph weddings and private parties, his preferred space is out in the community. "Austin is changing so much. I just want to keep the party going and make sure we don't sell out."
One of the most well-known horror tropes of the 1980s was that anyone who had sex in a particular film would inevitably be killed shortly thereafter. The new horror film Leviticusupdates that trope for the 21st century, with the added bonus of pointed commentary that unfortunately remains as relevant as ever.
Naim (Joe Bird) and his mother (Mia Wasikowska) have recently moved to a new town in Australia. Naim hasn’t made many new friends except for Ryan (Stacy Clausen), with whom he is exploring a rundown factory as the film begins. The teenage boys discover an attraction toward each other, something they try to keep hidden since the church they both attend abhors homosexuality.
When Naim sees Ryan kissing another boy, he rashly tells a church elder about it, leading to the church forcing Ryan and the other boy — and eventually Naim — to go through a conversion ceremony. But instead of making them believe they’re not gay, the rite conjures a demon, invisible to anyone but them, that takes the form of the person to whom they’re attracted.
Written and directed by first-time feature filmmaker Adrian Chiarella, the film is the latest example of Australia being a hotbed for horror movies. Referencing the same-named Bible chapter that some interpret as forbidding homosexuality, it turns into an intense and clever journey into paranoia. Ryan and Naim still see each other all the time, but they can never trust that the person in front of them is real.
Chiarella makes the most of his limited resources, utilizing dark scenes and dirty locations to complement the already-creepy vibe. But what makes the story hit the hardest is the understanding that boys like Naim and Ryan are almost literally trapped in their small town, unable to find a safe space to be who they are. An unseen demon trying to kill them is one thing, but the unsympathetic people around them feel almost as malevolent.
While the 90-minute film maintains its momentum for the most part, there are times when Chiarella loses the thread on his story logic. At first, it seems as if the demon only attacks when one of the boys gives in to temptation. But as the film progresses, the filmmaker plays a little fast and loose with that reasoning. Certain decisions by the characters also strain credulity, lessening the impact of the story to a degree.
Both Bird (Talk to Me) and Clausen give naturalistic performances that rarely feel as if they’re acting. Wasikowska, who was the “It girl” for a while after starring in two Alice in Wonderland movies, is the only face American audiences will likely know. She does well, especially considering it’s difficult to believe she’s already old enough to credibly play a mother of a teenager.
With a timely theme about the harmful effects of conversion therapy on gay people and a twist on a tired horror trope, Leviticus is another notch in the belt for 2026 as a great horror movie year. With more experience under his belt, Chiarella will likely be able to figure out how to smooth over the bumps in the storytelling he showed this time around.
