If you could have everything you could ever dream of, you would probably grasp tightly onto that new reality. In Sean Baker’s Anora, a sex worker who goes by Ani becomes roped into a life of extravagance and grandeur after impulsively marrying the son of a Russian oligarch.
Anora Mikheeva, more often referred to as Ani in the film, is initially portrayed as strong-headed, loud and more concerned about money than manners. She’s not quite rude to her patrons, but it’s clear from the first scenes that she prioritizes making an income first. We see this in the way she insists a client gets cash from an ATM to pay her, or how she encourages her patrons to upgrade to a private room with her.
At the dance club she works at, Ani is the only dancer who speaks Russian. She’s introduced to a new client Ivan, also referred to as Vanya. Ivan is the son of a Moscow billionaire, and he’s immediately captivated by Ani. The two share a whirlwind romance that results in an impromptu elopement to Las Vegas.
Despite the picturesque love story of a sex worker suddenly marrying rich and escaping work, it’s apparent from the beginning that Ivan is far from Ani’s “Prince Charming.” My theater was enamored with how ridiculous Ivan would act, but quite frankly, he seemed like a man-child in what we see of his relationship with Ani. For the most part, Ivan spends his time partying, doing cocaine and playing video games. Even after entering a more “official” relationship with Ani, his lifestyle does not change.
When Ivan’s parents find out about his marriage with Ani, they rush from Russia to America in an attempt to get Ivan and Ani’s marriage annulled. Ani — who has ditched her Brooklyn, N.Y. rowhome — now lives in the mansion that Ivan’s parents have granted him permission to stay in while he is in America. Before Ivan’s parents arrive, they have already employed Ivan’s godfather Toros and his two henchmen Garnick and Igor to confront Ivan about the marriage and hold him accountable.
While Ani and Ivan are home, Garnick and Igor come into the mansion to accost Ivan. During this encounter, which quickly moves from chaotically comedic to concerningly violent, Ivan runs away from the two men, ditching Ani in the meantime. Even after being left behind by Ivan, Ani is still stubborn about her marriage being genuine.
Regardless of whether or not their marriage was for love, Ani is forced to go on a wild fox hunt for Ivan with Toros, Garnick and Igor. This sequence of the film, which makes up more than half of its two hour runtime, is infectiously funny as every comedic point hit like Igor’s dead-pan statements or Toros’ expressive exasperation.
The rest of the film shifts from comedy to a much more tragic picture after the chase sequence is finished. The contrast makes the ending more emotionally jarring, but it’s not necessarily a flaw. Just as Ani quickly got her whole world taken away, the audience is left with a suddenly gut-wrenching ending.
Baker is technically talented beyond measure, and he won the most prestigious award at the Cannes Film Festival for Anora — the Palme d’Or. Anora is a gorgeous film with stunning colors, beautiful shots and impressive cinematography that captures both comedic moments and emotional beats well. The narrative is also heightened by incredible performances from the entire cast. Mikey Madison is the standout as Ani, and Madison is able to perfectly portray how desperate but also determined a young 23-year-old would be when faced with losing everything they just got.
Baker has experience in humanizing sex workers in previous films such as Tangerine and Red Rocket. However, Anora isn’t exactly as emotionally compelling as either of those two, and while it is his most impressive work technically, it’s missing further nuance about its titular character. This is odd in comparison to his previous work.
Anora is not genuinely about Ani until almost the last half hour of the film, and even then, it’s an abrupt and predictable conclusion about her character. She’s shown to be brassy and independent. However, her initial characterization is slowly hacked away as she agrees to terms that would go against her beliefs. It would work better if we got to know Ani before she’s cut down so much, but because we don’t, it’s a disingenuous attempt at portraying vulnerability.
Most of Ani’s characterization occurs in her relationships with the other characters – particularly with the men of the film. Baker’s other work shows he is well aware of female solidarity in sex work, but it’s noticeably lacking in this one. There’s no reason to believe a young 20-something sex worker in Brooklyn doesn’t have people to lean on when there are hints of other friendships with her coworkers shown throughout. These are just glimpses and ultimately, none of her supposed “friends” show any real concern or care that Ani goes AWOL after a quick marriage. Neither do they try and help her after seeing her being escorted away by threatening men in search of Ivan.
The lack of Ani’s characterization outside of the male characters would be less glaring if these relationships with her male love interests were interesting. Ivan is outright unlikable, and their later relationship is clichè and interpersonally threadbare. Her dedication to Ivan becomes more and more questionable as the film progresses. Outside of the potential monetary value — which is already addressed through a promised payment from Toros – their relationship is unconvincing after Ani learns more about who Ivan truly is. Yet, even after seeing him cheat, she still wants their marriage to be honored.
Baker’s previous work also make more compelling statements about familial connections and class consciousness than Anora does. We know Ani has a younger sister, and we know they are far from wealthy, but we don’t know enough about Ani to see why or how these relationships affect her motives and actions throughout the film, even when it would make a much more captivating story if we did.
Anora did get Baker his Palme d’Or, and it is certainly a great film. However, the film gets shakier as it reveals its interiority of Ani is only conceptual. She behaves in the way that we expect a young independent sex worker to act, but we don’t know any of her specific motives. It’s clear she likes money, but we don’t know know what led her there. She has an idea of love that’s unfulfilled, but we don’t know why she genuinely seeks it out. There are bits and pieces of excellence, but Baker’s observations about class, family and even sex work are surface-level in comparison to his previous filmography.
Facing reality is harsh and heartbreaking, and Anora depicts exactly how sudden it feels when your world unravels. Still, the film should be capable of making us care more about the spectacle of cruelty that it leaves us with.
