"Anora" review — Sean Baker's Cinderella story is beautiful and tragic
“When you give me health insurance, workers’ comp, and a 401K, then you can tell me when I work.”
This film was featured on my Best Films of 2024 list.
It’s easy to see why critics and festivals have been so enchanted with Anora, the latest from multi-hyphenate Sean Baker. Bringing in Baker’s signature sense of humour and neorealist humanist impulses, the film is willing to get messy with its less-than-perfect characters in a film that finds itself at the crossroads of great comedic inclinations and its tragic reality. Rocketing from the get-go with a bouncy, club remix of Take That’s U.K. chart-smasher “Greatest Day,” Anora explodes onto screens with a delightful, specific blend of humour and tragedy, lending itself to being one of the most tonally explorative and emotionally rich moviegoing experiences of the year thus far. Winning the Palme d’Or at this year’s Cannes Film Festival, the film is led by a charismatic, delightful performance from Mikey Madison as its title character bolstered by a rock-solid script and fantastic direction. It’s an often difficult, dark movie that never shies away from the pain motivating its characters, yet offset with bright moments of comedy and life that give the film layers of complexity. And it might just be the year’s best movie.
Described as something of a Cinderella story — albeit one with considerably more sleazy Russian billionaires than fantastical princes — the film follows Anora, more often called “Ani” by those who know her, a 23-year-old stripper who finds herself falling in with Ivan, nicknamed “Vanya,” a wealthy failson on a drug-riddled stint in New York City. Ani isn’t particularly successful in her field. She’s living in a dilapidated Brooklyn home with a less-than-stellar relationship with her roommate. She’s got tense relationships both with the other girls at the club and the club’s management. Her fairy godmother moment arrives when the club manager barges into the dressing room, looking for someone who speaks Russian to meet with a high-profile client, a role Ani is happy to fill. Ani, with her half-remembered broken Russian, marches up to Ivan Zakharov, who becomes immediately infatuated with the young Brooklynite. With just a few weeks left to stay in his father’s American home before being brought back to Russia to begin work, Vanya whisks Ani off on a whirlwind string of parties and drugs, eventually ending up on a week-long trip to Las Vegas, Nevada. After one particularly exhilarating night of gambling and drinking, the two stumble into a Vegas wedding chapel.
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| Mark Eydelshteyn and Mikey Madison in Anora. Photo via Neon. |
At the film’s heart is the terrific performance from Mikey Madison. Finding the right balance between effortless charisma and Brooklyn abrasiveness, there’s a great deal of depth that Madison brings to the character. She totally controls the screen for every moment of the film, and manages to stay above a vibrant and powerful ensemble cast. This is truly a phenomenal breakout turn from Madison, who made a “firey” first impression in Quintin Tarantino’s Once Upon a Time in Hollywood (2019) and a memorable villainous role in Scream (2022). While determining anything as a “star-making role” may be premature, this performance is one hell of a candidate. Mark Eydelshteyn makes for an excellent second fiddle to Madison, even if he gets a little lost in the fray as the film progresses. Eydelshteyn’s talent is in the love and disgust he is able to create for Ivan, ranging from the out-of-touch rich kid, to the likeable, misguided young man, to the emotionally vacant narcist. Baker’s secret weapon is Yura Borisov, who plays Igor, a man in the employ of Ivan’s father. As Eydelshteyn’s presence fades later in the film, Borisov becomes one of the film’s most interesting figures. Borisov’s “brute with a heart” proves to be the film’s most centred and heartfelt character, especially towards the finale, with the actor bringing so much careful and considered delivery to the dialogue.
Within days, Ivan’s family finds out about his marriage to Ani, much to the horror of his mother and father. Toros, Igor, and Garnick (played by Karren Karagulian, Yura Borisov, and Vache Tovmasyan respectively), three of Vanya’s father’s men, are dispatched to dissolve the union of Vanya and Ani at all costs. Things get violent at the Bright Beach estate, as coffee tables smash, characters are detained with ropes and wires, and more than a few fists and kicks are thrown. Vanya then runs off into the icy New York winter on foot, leaving his new bride behind as Toros and his men take off in pursuit. Ripping through its second act, Anora evolves into a sort of city-spanning screwball comedy, as Toros’ goons drag the increasingly upset Ani on a desperate quest to find and rescue Ivan from whatever drug and alcohol-induced stupor he’s brought himself to. As the morning approaches and the arrival of Vanya’s parents draws more imminent, a steadily growing feeling of climactic dread starts to churn in the mind of the viewer.
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| Photo via Neon. |
Baker, who serves as the film’s writer, director, editor, and one of its co-producers, remains just as sharp as ever despite the distinctly more polished look and feel of Anora compared to his other recent filmic adventures. The cinematography is a little slicker, the locations are more impressive and the needle drops are a little more pronounced — with the soundtrack including the aforementioned Take That, Blondie, t.A.T.u., and DMX, among others. The film is also more comedically obvious than some of Baker’s previous movies. From its borderline slapstick physicality to its maddening pace, the comedic moments take centre stage. As Cannes jury president Greta Gerwig herself noted, there are distinct flavours of influence from the greats of the screwball generation like Ernst Lubitsch, Howard Hawks, and Frank Capra present here, especially throughout the middle of the movie. But, of course, doing what Baker does best, the comedy becomes undercut by its profound feelings of melancholy and crushing emotional weight, leading to a profoundly heavy ending.
Everything that works about films like The Florida Project (2017) and Red Rocket (2021) is still very much present. Baker’s signature empathy for the socially disavowed is as strong here as it is in his previous films. Whether he’s depicting childhood poverty, economically collapsing rural communities, or, like with Anora, sex work, Baker embraces the multitudes of humanity with love, kindness, and empathy. Baker’s work is never afraid to get messy, really messy, and Anora is no exception. The film isn’t particularly pleasant in what it depicts and discusses, but neither are any of his other projects. The central empathy for Ani is what makes Anora so captivating and intriguing as a story. There’s a great deal of ambiguity at the heart of the story, which might frustrate some. We don’t get to know much about why Ani is involved in the life she leads. She alludes to a family she hardly speaks to anymore and brushes off any questions that might give us anything more. But Madison and Baker’s subtleties pack a massive punch. The empathy that guides the creation of this film, its world, and its character becomes a guiding manifesto for the viewer as well. For all its chaos and comedic impulses, the humanistic beauty and devastating tragedy are what is left behind. Anora is a carefully considered, cleverly written, and beautifully executed story that is a powerful statement from one of America’s most interesting contemporary filmmakers.
Anora is now playing in theatres.
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