m.a.g.

ANORA

Text by Maja Anhel Vuk

This year’s Oscars frontrunner and 2024 Palm d’Or winner Anora is Sean Baker’s highly-praised eighth film. Like much of his filmography, such as Starlet, Tangerine, and Red Rocket, this film highlights the life of sex workers, a subject that he has always approached with humanity and empathy. Hence, I went into this film with some level of expectation. I really wanted to love it. The dialogue is sharp, and the actors, cherry-picked by Baker and his producer Samantha Quan, deliver superbly. Although it is a very entertaining film, its depiction of sex workers feels off. Anora plays out like a cautionary tale, reminding the viewer of the consequences of compromising one’s autonomy in pursuit of security, wealth, or love.

Anora (or Ani, played by Mikey Madison) is introduced gyrating on a customer, her face deep in the grind. Between lap dances, pole tricks, and chatting up men, Ani is a true businesswoman. With her assertive, bubbly personality and a sprinkle of aloofness, she is the customers’ favorite. The plot starts with a meet-cute: Ani meets Ivan. The spoiled child of a Russian oligarch finds himself at Ani’s workplace, and requests a Russian-speaking dancer. The manager, quick to cater to wealthy clientele, sends Ani, who is coincidentally of Russian descent. She soon becomes «the chosen one,» with the perfect opportunity to make money as Ivan (Mark Eydelshteyn) is young, naive, and easy to please. The first third of the movie feels like a music video: fun, flashy, but ultimately shallow. It is an amalgamation of youthful debauchery set to a poppy soundtrack. We reach the climax of the chapter when Ivan proposes to Ani on a whim and they elope in Vegas.

It seems so cliché that a stripper would be fixated on becoming wealthy. Ani is hard-working and excellent at what she does. While it is refreshing that the film avoids explaining why she chose this job, for the sake of character coherence, it is necessary to understand why she’s so desperate to leave it. Sex workers are often depicted as driven by dire need for fast cash, but some choose this profession simply because they enjoy doing it. Why would Ani prefer installing herself into the life of a bratty rich dude instead of remaining independent? Understanding a character’s motivations and decisions is essential for the character’s truth.

The second act starts when Ivan’s parents get wind of the marriage, and all hell breaks loose. They send their three henchmen, Toros (Karren Karagulian), Garnick (Vache Tovmasyan), and Igor (Yura Borisov), to find their son and annul the union. Ivan makes a quick, cowardly escape, ditching Ani to fend for herself. What ensues is a ludicrous and somewhat disturbing half-hour sequence where Ani gets a harsh reality check. Kicking and screaming, she defends her new prosperous life in her new rightful home. She is convinced that she belongs there. In hindsight, I felt awkward watching Ani tied up and gagged while the three try to “tame” her. Much of the tension in that scene relies on the anticipation of (sexual) violence, playing on the viewer’s expectation of Ani’s potential harm. Yet, in no moment does she surrender, showcasing a fearlessness and resourcefulness. A frantic search for Ivan follows, and as Ani’s frustration and disappointment grow, so does the realization that her dream may be slipping away.

Although this film is supposedly about the titular character, Ani feels highly underwritten and more like a place of projection rather than a fully realized character. We learn nothing about her plans, internal struggles, desires, or life outside of work. Her obsession with remaining Ivan’s wife after being rejected by his family is incoherent with the information we have about her, and to be honest, there is very little we know about her in the first place. Throughout the entire film I was looking for Ani because, to me, she was never truly present. Her story is overwhelmingly shaped by men. She’s pushed around, claimed, married, discarded, and passed from one man to another. Yet, amidst the chaos, she navigates it all with a determined grace. Despite Mikey Madison stellar performance as Anora, which got her an Oscar nomination for Best Leading Actress, the film fails to make me empathize with her. Ani’s fascination with Ivan and his money does not align with her circumstances, making it feel unconvincing.

Speaking of outstanding performances, there were, in my opinion, two more in the henchmen trio. A delightful surprise was the character of Toros, who, for me, was a standout of the film. Ivan’s godfather, when he’s not chasing after him, doubles as an Orthodox priest. He’s written with such precision and sharp wit. Karren Karagulian’s portrayal of Toros with his entitled presence, effortless command of any room, and unwavering commitment to Ivan’s family, is both hilarious and captivating. If Toros is the brain, then thuggish-looking Igor is the fists. Beneath his tough exterior, however, lies a silent, observant, tender man who instantly develops a soft spot for Ani. Yura Borisov’s nuanced portrayal of Igor earned him his first Oscar nomination for Best Supporting Actor. It is no surprise that Sean Baker brought out the best in his actors.

Ultimately, Anora feels like a film that captures the high-energy chaos of a world built around fantasy and fleeting pleasure. It does not fully capture the humanity of sex workers, as the main female character is heavily controlled by the male gaze. Ani remains a mystery not because of depth, but because the film never lets her exist beyond the fantasies of the men around her. Nonetheless, the film seems to make an attempt at portraying sex workers in a more humane and realistic light, offering a novel way to reflect modern society, where capital often takes precedence over human connection and quality of life.

Words: @majaxvuk

Film editor: @alexandra_iglesias_

Editor in chief: @jogarciagarrido