The concept is extremely simple – two individuals meet in a hotel room, where they are given the guarantee of being alone (aside from the occasional planned visit from room service), where they intend to engage in a routine act of domination, only to find secrets revealed in the process that changes the course of their entire relationship, if it can ever be referred to as such. Zachary Wigon set out to make something quite ambitious in the form of Sanctuary, his sophomore feature film and the one that is most likely to get him on the radars of general audiences, who will undoubtedly be captivated and disturbed in equal measure by this bizarre but compelling psychological drama, which tells the story of a mild-mannered young man who, on the eve of his promotion to the CEO of his father’s company following his death, decides to have one final session with the dominatrix whom he sees regularly, so much that he can refer to her as simply part of his routine. Over the course of a single afternoon, the pair find themselves oscillating between emotions, ranging from heartfelt admiration to deep hatred, based on a perverted relationship built on deception and humiliation. A dark and foreboding film with a strange sense of humour, but one that works exceptionally well in the context of the story, Sanctuary is quite an achievement in terms of narrative storytelling, and Wigon announces himself as a major new talent in independent film, someone whose love for cinema in his capacity as a film writer has worked its way into his endeavours behind the camera, every detail in this film being well-placed and very meaningful, but never self-referential in a way that feels tacky or unnecessarily convoluted. One of the year’s more surprising films, it massively expands on some fascinating ideas and proves how there is still a place in the contemporary cinematic landscape for old-fashioned erotic thrillers, especially the kind that is this invigorating on an emotional and psychological level.

Sanctuary is a film that announces its intentions relatively early on in the story – there isn’t any need for us to spend too much time waiting for the machinations of the plot to start, since this only wastes valuable moments that could be spent on the crux of the story. Wigon is singularly disinterested in going in pursuit of something more than what he could offer with this film, which is a deeply compelling but also extremely perverted psychological thriller that takes the viewer on a disquieting journey into the minds of two extremely disturbed individuals as they realize that they have both gotten themselves into a precarious situation, but their sense of hubris and entitlement prevents them from walking away, both clearly being the kind of people who always strive to have the last word, even when it can be detrimental to their own intentions. The entire film examines the psychosexual relationship between two profoundly deranged individuals that have developed an almost parasitic dependency on one another – neither Rebecca nor Hal is necessarily bad people, but rather individuals who are too focused on carnal satiation to realize the ramifications of their actions. The film explores their interactions over the course of what is intended to be their final session, and in the process develops a very strange perspective on what each of the two characters is bringing to these interactions, which become less about sexual desire and more about the lust for power and dominance, both within the bedroom and outside of it. There is a remarkable looseness that drives this film, and Wigon takes advantage of the absurdity of the scenario to add several darkly comical moments (since the erotic thrillers this film seems to be referencing were often self-serious to the point of being absurdly funny, and Wigon intentionally chose to cut out the middle-man and just make this film a comedy), which contrast with the bleak, haunting atmosphere evoked by these characters as they gradually descend into a state of complete psychological despair.

Structurally, Sanctuary seems to be far more simple than it is, which is one of the many surprises that lurk beneath the surface of this film. At a cursory glance, it seems like a conventional stage-to-screen adaptation (although it was not based on a play, with Micah Bloomberg’s screenplay being written directly for the screen), with its limited setting and singular time frame being reminiscent of many stage productions that utilize the audience’s presence to create more tension. However, despite what some may see as restrictive elements in terms of its setting and temporal details, Sanctuary never feels overly limited – the sensation of almost claustrophobic tension is very much a factor in the emotional attachment we develop for this film and its characters, who are yearning to escape but keep finding themselves returning to this location over the course of the time we spend with them. It is very much along the lines of God of Carnage in how it is about two deeply unlikable individuals who find themselves trapped in a purgatory from which they can never escape – walking out the door does not necessarily mean they are leaving, since they doubtlessly return until all their frustrations have been resolved, which logically only heightens the tension and creates a more hostile atmosphere. The film makes use of many fascinating elements to tell this story and keep us engaged with these characters – we can never tell fact from fiction throughout this film, especially since we learn quite early on in the story that their previous encounters are all scripted, based around carefully-constructed scenarios, and right until the final moments, we question whether this entire film has been a ruse on the part of the characters, or if there is something much deeper to their interactions. Our role as the audience is to peer into their relationship, acting as voyeurs that silently watch them engage in these sordid activities that eventually lead to deeper truths being unearthed, each new secret revealing something else about these characters, as well as their broader intentions that come with engaging in this symbiotic relationship in which they seem to be intent on humiliating and abusing one another.

There are only two characters in Sanctuary, which allows the film to spend all of its time exploring their relationship with one another, as well as the individual psychological quandaries that cause them to seek out the validation that comes with such a perverted, deeply unsettling series of encounters. Wigon casts two exceptionally gifted actors to play the roles, and extracts some of their finest work to date (although both are still in the early stages of their careers, and I genuinely don’t believe we have seen the peak of their abilities yet), and hands them fascinating characters which they carefully curate, pulling apart their various layers and developing on the fundamental ideas that existed at their inception. Margaret Qualley and James Abbott are two of our most exciting young actors, and despite having done solid work for years, it feels as if we are only starting to see them develop into generation-defining performers. Their work in this film is reflective of some very sincere talents, and they spend their time exploring these characters, both in isolation and in communion with one another. It may seem like a very simple approach, but it is one that still has many challenges embedded within it, especially since the entire film depends on their ability to play off one another. There is nowhere for the actors to hide in this film, and if their chemistry was even slightly misaligned or their work wasn’t entirely genuine, the film would fall apart and become unbearable, especially since this story depends on actors who don’t only have romantic chemistry, but also a sense of mutual hostility to appears in the more harrowing segments, which are unsurprisingly the moments when this film is at its most intriguing. Both Abbott and Qualley deliver spellbinding, complex performances that simmer with intensity and feel extremely compelling, which gives the film so much authenticity, and allows Wigon the chance to expand on these individuals and their existential crises, carefully creating an atmosphere of disquieting terror.

Sanctuary is a riveting and extremely compelling piece of cinema that takes us into the minds of these two characters as they realize they have both gotten themselves into a situation from which any kind of escape is not only impossible, it seems to be unwise. Their interactions show a deeply unsettling sense of darkness that lingers beneath this relationship, and we find ourselves being drawn into this labyrinth, which the director constructs using nothing but a single hotel room, two actors and a strong script that makes use of both with incredible consistency, putting these characters through a series of harrowing arguments that are punctuated by moments of genuine heartfulness, which causes us to question not only the nature of their relationship (whether they are merely an employee and her boss, or if there is a genuine romantic spark brought on by this perverted game of psychosexual tension) but also what each of them brings to the table when it comes to their interactions. Sanctuary is a very dark film, and it shows a more harrowing side of the human condition, especially in how it implies that the most perverted individuals are often those who seem the most normal on the surface. Expectations do not always match reality, and this film proves the importance of not taking everything we encounter as being the truth. Instead, we are told to exercise caution and make use of critical thinking, which is most useful throughout this film, since it allows us to never take a single moment for granted, and we soon condition ourselves to expect more secrets to be unearthed. It’s a film that executes its ideas in rapid succession, to the point where it can sometimes create a feeling of dizzying confusion, which is intentional and adds to the atmosphere that drives the film. This mood, coupled with the terrific performances and the sparing direction makes Sanctuary one of the more effective erotic thrillers of the past decade, a film that has many terrific ideas and a truly remarkable sense of complexity that we don’t expect at the start. Simple in theory, and harrowing in execution, Wigon’s work here is extremely compelling and makes for a film that is simultaneously deeply disturbing and brilliantly entertaining, which is the most appropriate method for telling such a story.