Twisted. Never have I ever been rendered paralyzed within seconds of watching a film; “Sanctuary” is twisted, debauched, depraved, defiled in a tethered knot; yet, stunningly, mesmerizingly, blazingly brilliant. Director Zachary Wigon in tandem with writer Micah Bloomberg have created a work of inconceivable flair, infused with the astounding artistry of actors Margaret Qualley (“Rebecca”) and Christopher Abbott (“Hal’); a night reminiscent of “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?”, Rebecca and Hal engage in a vituperative, lacerating game of one-upmanship. Innovative cinematographer Ludovica Isidori avoids the airless, claustrophobic neurosis of a single set; Rebecca and Hal’s destructive, diabolical behavior, along with the musical score composed by Ariel Marx, exponentially magnifies the limited space; Rebecca’s pungently provocative dance, combined with Hal’s hysterical demolition of the hotel suite, is sensationally swirly, stylish and salty.
“Sanctuary” is smart, sexy, lovable in a puzzling, weird way; a couple, like no other, outliers in the “relationship” field, seemed from the onset impeccably matched.