The Weird, Sexy Sanctuary Is a Perverse Power Play

About three-quarters of the way through Zachary Wigon’s Sanctuary–his first new feature in nearly a decade since his debut The Heart Machine–we learn that “sanctuary” is a safe word. Ultimately, it’s more than just that—it does come to suggest the significance of the relationship between Rebecca (Margaret Qualley), a professional dominatrix, and Hal (Christopher Abbott), her paying sub, who engage in non-physical sessions of erotic roleplay. Hal Porterfield is the heir to a hotel empire, still reeling from the fairly fresh death of his domineering father, which has paved the way for his ascension to taking over the family business. In spite of the meaningful escort-client connection he’s built with Rebecca over an unspecified amount of time (enough for him to buy her a $32K “goodbye” present), Hal feels that having a secret side hobby being shamed into ejaculation isn’t a good look for an incumbent CEO. He decides, earnestly and gracefully, that it is best for the two of them to part ways.
With Sanctuary, Abbott is two-for-two in “films where he is sexually tormented by a demented woman in a hotel room for 90 minutes,” the second being Nicolas Pesce’s Piercing. No complaints here: It’s a great subgenre that Abbott excels at, his soft face and dark, expressionless eyes primed for either a handsome serial killer out of his depth (Piercing) or a subordinated nepo-baby (Sanctuary). In both roles, he portrays men whose attempts at power plays are unmatched by the loose cannon women in their company, and Qualley proves mostly apt to the task as a spurned escort looking for the financial and emotional lion’s share.
“Heartbroken” might be too tame to describe Rebecca’s psychological state in the wake of Hal’s decision—in fact, her distress is more than feels logical or reasonable given what we know about her character thus far. Any abnormality detected in her personality during the film’s first 15 minutes ends up revealed as part of a wholly in-character roleplaying scene with manufactured instances of would-be improvisation. Rebecca prides herself on being good at what she does, and she cherishes the relationship she has built with Hal. But we don’t learn the extent of what Hal means to Rebecca (and vice versa) until the very end. It’s Sanctuary’s main flaw, a sense of contrivance in the inciting incident that is meant to carry the bulk of the narrative, but that doesn’t quite propel the film towards its heights. But everything else is so compelling that it mostly works.