Formerly Known As Cinema

   

SANCTUARY


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We’re in a hotel room with a prostitute and a paying customer. Psychodrama and relationship issues are trotted out in equal measure. There are tears and sex and recriminations and a resolution of sorts. Sound familiar?

No, it’s not a remake of “Good Luck to You Leo, Grande,” although “Sanctuary” is also a COVID-era two-handed drama, with a single set, that could easily take place in an off-Broadway theatre.

But whereas “Leo Grande” was a rare positive ‘sex worker’ story that attempted to offer a counter-narrative to decades of cultural stereotyping of the oldest profession, “Sanctuary” brings us right back to square one.

And though Margaret Qualley (”Stars at Noon”) is marvelous as usual, bringing more layers of nuance than seems possible to her ridiculously incoherent role of a predatory dominatrix, she can’t quite make us understand or believe the multiple, head-scratching hairpin turns that writer Micah Bloomberg has saddled her character with.

Even more remarkable is how Christopher Abbott (”Possessor”) manages to create even the remotest amount of sympathy for the other perplexing and implausible character that we spend a very trying ninety minutes with, in this overly decorated hotel room — with more practical lamps on display than an IKEA showroom.

What the writer seems to be after is a modern take on “Sleuth”; a game of one-upmanship between two people where we’re never supposed to know who’s thinking what or where this could all be leading to.

And it’s true: when the twists and turns of the plot start to plop unceremoniously into our laps, they are often accompanied by an overwhelming, “WTF?” from the audience.

But this is not because of innovative, sneaky storytelling or craftily illuminated secrets. No, the screenwriter has just arbitrarily decided to reinvent reality again and again, regardless of what we’ve been told before.


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Part of this is due to the role playing element in the film:

When we first meet the two leads, they’re playacting a scene about an ‘administrator’ and an ‘applicant’. It’s very detailed and goes on way too long. And the ‘surprise’ that the whole thing has been scripted by the submissive in order for him get turned on enough to strip down and clean the toilet is no surprise at all since the movie’s promotional materials let us know the character’s real identities in advance.

It’s one of the traps of putting these kinds of scenes in movies. They only work if you go in absolutely blind; when the marketing spoils the surprise up front, we’re left twiddling our thumbs, waiting for the movie to catch up with where we’ve been for the last twenty minutes.

And things don’t improve once the players have been defined.


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Abbott’s Hal is yet another rich boy with daddy issues who needs someone to punish him so he can justify being such a creep; and Qualley’s Rebecca is another opportunistic girl with abandonment issues who uses subterfuge and manipulation to gain the upper hand in a male-dominated culture.

There’s a second season episode of “Succession” where ‘rich daddy’s boy’, Roman, and ‘constantly-thwarted businesswoman’, Gerri, engage in the same song and dance with much more finesse.

And both scenes end with the boy masturbating in the bathroom while being verbally abused by the woman. It’s not the freshest scenario.

But the premise — before it gets lost in an avalanche of preposterous developments — is actually a good one:

A long time submissive wants to end his relationship with his dominatrix. And she doesn’t take it very well.

From this seed alone, at least a dozen great plot threads could spin out. But screenwriter Bloomberg makes the wrong choice at every step, turning Hal and Rebecca into little more than hand puppets being manipulated by a fool.

For example: Rebecca attempts to blackmail Hal by threatening to release a videotape of their sessions. All which have taken place IN THE BATHROOM.

Yet Hal, in his sudden desperate search for the hidden camera, knocks over every lamp and painting, ultimately trashing every part of the hotel room, EXCEPT THE BATHROOM.


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Great actors can sometimes mitigate bad writing. But you need a director who knows how to hide the blemishes and keep things rolling.

Unfortunately Zachary Wigon (”The Heart Machine”) has exactly one trick in his basket: When Hal gets confused, the camera flips upside down. And that’s it.

Otherwise the camerawork is competent. But there’s no POV, no attitude, nothing subversive or cheeky or playful or mordant or creepy or scary or fun.

It is reportage of a series of false constructs acted with as much sincerity and emotion as humanly possible. But to no avail.

When the screenwriter finally lets these two poor folks out of their hotel room, puts them into an elevator and sends them down to the lobby, things brighten up suddenly.

Because, much to my surprise, despite everything that’s come before it, the ending, which occurs on literally the last line of dialogue, actually works.

For that brief moment, it's possible to see, and even celebrate, what the filmmakers were after. And to lament the dreadful execution of every step of the process.

IN THEATERS


 

An LA-based playwright, JUSTIN TANNER has more than twenty produced plays to his credit, including Voice Lessons, Day Drinkers, Space Therapy, Wife Swappers, and Coyote Woman. His Pot Mom received the PEN-West Award for Best Play.

He has written for the TV shows Gilmore Girls, My So-Called Life and the short-lived Love Monkey. He wrote, directed and edited 88 episodes of the web series Ave 43, available on YouTube.

Tanner is the current Playwright in Residence for the Rogue Machine Theatre in Hollywood, where his new play Little Theatre, of December of 2022, was met with rave reviews. Charles McNulty of the LA Times writes, "Engrossing... a comedy à clef... “Little Theatre” is invaluable.'"

 

 

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