I wish we saw films like Sanctuary more often. Little indies that sneak up on you and smack you across the face repeatedly for an hour and a half. Sanctuary is the best romantic comedy of its kind since Gone Girl. Many disagree that Gone Girl is a romantic comedy, but that’s always how I’ve seen it, and I feel like Gillian Flynn (author of the original source material/screenwriter) would agree with me. You could also look at Sanctuary as like a demented version of last year’s Good Luck to You, Leo Grande. You could call Sanctuary a psychological thriller or a psychodrama or a sex comedy, but it’s really a very biting satire about two awful people one-upping each other, until they land in the rom com heaven or hell (not sure which) of their own making.

Rebecca (Margaret Qualley) is a dominatrix sex worker whose services are no longer needed by Hal (Christopher Abbott), who is about to succeed his father as CEO of their family company, a chain of hotels. As he gives her the brush-off, she decides she’s entitled to half of his income, as she’s the person who’s mentally prepared him for this job for the past few years. And she’s got a point. And her demands keep changing. And there could be dire consequences if he fights them.

Margaret Qualley and Christopher Abbott are better than I’ve ever seen them here, and this movie is very much a two-hander that relies on the nuances and weirdness of this strange little relationship to gradually become more uncomfortable and more cringe-inducing as the proceedings continue. This is also a film about gender roles and power dynamics and how they’ve changed over generations, but also what it means for one to have the upper hand. Both Rebecca and Hal are awful, awful people, but in endlessly compelling ways that are explored over the film’s very brisk 96 minutes.

This is director Zachary Wigon’s second feature, after 2014’s The Heart Machine, another well-reviewed festival darling which I did not see. I will say that between Wigon and cinematographer Ludovica Isidori, there is an assured precision behind the camera, with the use of limited space, the color grading, and the use of Ariel Marx’s haunting score. Micah Bloomberg’s playful yet shocking script probably earns most of the credit, as the tension between these two characters only relaxes for a moment here and there until we hit our third act crescendo. Even the film’s final scene, which I can see being divisive, totally worked for me. I don’t want to give much about the ending away, but I’ll just say it sticks the landing of the point this film has been making for the preceding 90-ish minutes.

You might ask if this film feels too stagey, since the entire film takes place in a hotel room and there are really only two characters for the entire runtime. I would say no, because we have some quieter moments where the script catches its breath. Also no, because we have some very clever camerawork that makes Sanctuary inherently cinematic. However, your mileage may vary, as I have always enjoyed a good play on film, a feature to me might be a bug for someone else. It definitely feels like Sanctuary could be adapted for the stage, without many important changes being made at all. But that closed-in kind of claustrophobia can work tremendously in the context of a film as well.

Sanctuary is a devilishly nasty little treat, a piece of sugary candy with poison in the center, and it’s a hoot and a half. You’ll be simultaneously appalled and a little turned on for the whole runtime, as Bloomberg’s script keeps turning you in directions making it impossible to guess what’s coming next. Sanctuary boasts deliciously mean performances, icepick sharp writing, and remarkably assured direction. I can’t wait to see this one over and over again and laugh my ass off every time.