‘Sanctuary’ creeps are less interesting than they think they are

It’s just the three of us in a luxury hotel suite for virtually the entirety of Zachary Wigon’s slick and cynical, empty-calorie psychological sexual drama “Sanctuary.” Let’s see, there’s Margaret Qualley’s Rebecca, Christopher Abbott’s Hal — and the viewer.

About halfway through the night, this particular viewer was thinking about calling a Lyft and leaving these two shallow, petty and immature narcissists to themselves. Although “Sanctuary” is stylish and initially intriguing, it’s eventually a real chore to spend an entire feature-length film (even with a relatively brief running time of 96 minutes) with two boors who are also kind of boring, despite all the histrionics and fang-baring and manipulative mind games. They find themselves and each other a lot more interesting than we do.

Set in an expansive, well-appointed hotel suite that gives off a bit of a horror movie vibe with its rich and saturated colors, “Sanctuary” begins with Qualley’s Rebecca in a blonde bob and velvety, hunter green business suit, sitting across the table from Abbott’s slightly disheveled and sweaty Hal, screening him for a position as CEO of his father’s hotel empire. The questions become ever more personal and bizarre, with Rebecca quizzing Hal about his drug and alcohol use, when he lost his virginity, whether he “f---s like Caligula” — until they break character, and we see they’re actually role-playing from a script, literally a script.

While it’s true that Hal is the presumptive heir to his recently deceased father’s hotel regime, Rebecca is actually his longtime dominatrix. Next thing we know it, Rebecca is commanding Hal to strip down to his underwear, get down on his hands and knees and scrub the bathroom floor (“I want you to clean BEHIND the toilet, that’s where the dirt is”), and the weak-spined Hal is complying, bowing his dog like a puppy that’s been scolded.

This is but the first time Micah Bloomberg’s script pulls the rug out from under us, but the subsequent reveals aren’t particularly surprising — up to and including a denouement that feels arbitrary and forced. Along the way, we learn a number of truths about Rebecca’s hardscrabble upbringing and Hal’s soft, pampered life.

When Hal is on the phone, ordering room service or engaging in conversation with unseen parties, we can see he’s a privileged, dismissive jerk, but when he tries to cut off his arrangement with Rebecca or remind her that he has the wealth and power to destroy her, it rings hollow. She clearly has the upper hand, and he secretly wants it that way, so we’re subjected to numerous scenes in which Rebecca subjugates Hal and humiliates him sexually and psychologically.

Margaret Qualley is a wonderful actor, but she’s slight and she looks and sounds even younger than her 28 years, and at times it’s a stretch to believe her as a predatory dominatrix. Abbott, on the other hand, perfectly plays the insecure, unlikable, not particularly bright Hal, who keeps telling Rebecca (and himself) he’s well-suited to succeed his legendary, late father. (This whole setup has echoes of “Succession,” but Hal’s so weak even sad-sack eldest brother Connor Roy would wipe the floor with this guy.)

Rebecca has a strict set of rules — her clients can’t touch her, and she won’t touch them — until she decides to break those rules. Hal tries to buy off Rebecca by gifting her with an expensive watch and sending her on her way, and occasionally we follow Rebecca into the corridor and to the entrance of the elevator, but something always pulls her back in, and Rebecca and Hal spiral deeper into their sadomasochistic duet, as the score adds to the nearly hallucinogenic effect. (There’s a moment or two where we wonder if this is all some dreamy metaphor.) When Rebecca threatens to blackmail Hal, claiming she has video records of their encounters, tensions escalate and voices are raised, and even the possibility of violence exists.

One of the problems with “Sanctuary” is while these two are convinced they’re involved in a psychological chess game with the highest possible stakes, it really boils down to whether or not Hal will ascend to become CEO of his father’s empire (which he doesn’t really seem to want all that much), or just continue on as an ineffectual and wealthy jellyfish, and whether Rebecca will extract millions from Hal, or keep working in her chosen field, which seems to pay pretty well. However it plays out, it’s a good thing these two found each other, no matter how unorthodox their arrangement, because it’s hard to imagine a lot of folks volunteering to spend much quality time with either one of them.