by Cris Mora-Villa, Contributing Writer

In the months since its Palme d’Or win at this year’sCannes Film Festival, Anora has without question implanted itself as one of the most highly anticipated arrivals of the 2024 film slate. Aside from my own personal excitement, Anora‘smonumental win also put into question what was it about this film specifically that would resonate with a festival jury composed of some of the most renowned filmmakers in the world to award it as the top prize. The Florida Project and Red Rocket also had premieres at Cannes in the Director’s Fortnight and Palme d’Or competitions, respectively, but ultimately went unrewarded. One’s mileage may vary on the importance or logic of handing out trophies to works of art, and it would certainly be an understandable position to not be all that bothered by this element of Baker’s recent work or the works of other directors. I do, however, find it an interesting point of discussion which begs the question, what is it about Anora that has cemented itself as a defining benchmark of Baker’s career within the greater cinematic consciousness? Having finally seen the movie for myself, the resolution I’ve arrived at is that if nothing else, Anora is a film of fantasy and sensory profusion which takes the grounded tale of the struggle to ascend for something higher to new levels.

The film follows the titular Anora Mikheeva (Mikey Madison), whose spontaneous marriage to Vanya Zakharov (Mark Eydelshteyn), the son of a wealthy Russian oligarch, is threatened when Vanya’s parents arrive to annul the marriage. In a similar vein to Baker’s preceding four features, its main character Anora (or “Ani” as she continually proclaims herself as in lieu of her birth name) works within a section of sex industry as both stripper and escort. The opening frames of the movie don’t shy away from establishing an abundant sense of vibrancy and bodily fluidity which pervades itself throughout the runtime. Sexuality as it is explicitly presented here rears its head at certain times, but it is never the point of what the audience is meant to take away as the central thesis of the film. This has exclusively been the case for all of Baker’s films, but when the sex itself is pushed to the forefront as it is here, there comes with it the possibility for new avenues to explore it in regards to both character and story. Baker takes full advantage of this as the movie’s sole writer, making those elements feel multilayered and compelling in a way that’s different from anything he’s done before. As far as characterization goes, Baker and company navigate that trajectory beautifully as we witness the bittersweet journey of Ani’s supposed Cinderella tale. And one of the most important facets that define that journey is the perception of Ani not as a person, but as a sex worker.

We meet Ani as a young Brooklynite who gets by working at a high end strip club. Through her, we get to see a specific corner of sex industry that had gone unexplored in Baker’s previous films, as their settings had up to this point been in an entirely different economic class structure. Madison and Baker did extensive research so as to accurately portray the lifestyle and experiences of real exotic dancers/providers in order to best shape Ani as a character. Sex workers are a community that Baker has a lot of empathy towards, as he’s never depicted those engaged in said line of work with the intent of judging the profession or the characters. Certain characters within his movies tend to do so, often adopting negative vernacular to demean or insult his leads, females especially. Ani is not exempt from this treatment, but there are certain lenses though which one can view this in the context of the film. From Ani’s point of view, she has no reason to bear shame for who she is, and has little patience for derision from anyone based on what she does. Tilt the perspective to almost any other member of the supporting cast, and the movie enacts an unstoppable force colliding with an immovable object kind of dynamic. Be it one of Ani’s coworkers or someone in Vanya’s inner circle, not everyone is apprehensive in their language or the intent that comes with when speaking about or directly to Ani. And while it isn’t necessarily a matter of respect, these instances do reflect a wider indictment on what little support Ani has as the marriage she was promised begins to crumble before her eyes. Despite this, Ani’s confidence knows no bounds, and it’s a testament to Madison’s stellar performance that convincingly makes Ani one of most well-defined movie characters from this year.

Baker’s courting of Madison for the role of Ani by all accounts spawned an immensely rewarding collaboration process between the pair. In looking through Baker’s track record with actors, he seems to have a way of working where he can help coax the most idealized version of what the film needs out of its characters. Madison is no different, as she gives herself fully over to Ani under every possible measure. Genuinely one of the biggest star-making performances I’ve seen in recent memory, and it’s one that we don’t get nearly enough of in today’s film landscape. Beyond the exhaustive trek through the art of pole dancing that Madison underwent as part of her preparation process, her commitment to forging every mannerism and micro-expression that Ani exhibits from one scene to the next only further illustrates a broad yet very subtle physicality. While Baker’s script gives the young actress a stage to convey plenty of nuance and scenery chewing, Madison is still required to deliver on those fronts. Deliver she most certainly does; it’s almost effortless. If there were any criticisms that could be lobbied at the film in the script department, it would be its lack of an attempt to establish its own history. There admittedly isn’t a sizable portion of the film’s runtime devoted to truly flesh out the main characters’ lived experiences, as is the case in many of Baker’s other films, but that possible shortcoming is made up for not just through Madison’s performance, but also through the filmmaking.

Baker has never been one to command astronomical budgets or large ensembles in any of his movies. By no means should that be interpreted as a case of missed opportunity, as he’s certainly made a home for himself as one of most celebrated indie filmmakers of the last 20 years. It’s clear to anyone with even a passing interest in his work that there has always been a great deal of passion behind the camera, and it’s that spirit which drives him to explore the ideas which interest him, as well as honoring those who have served as inspirations. With each subsequent film, Baker adds to his own mythology a preeminent voice who is known to be able to squeeze a lot out of having such limited resources. Anora strays close to that idea, as the picture does share many of the same trademarks from Baker’s other films in regard to its tone, grounded simplicity, and the use of a smaller cast. Where the film does deviate is in the noticeable uptick in budget. While I’ve never believed money automatically begets creativity, it is refreshing in this instance to see what this slight change does to a film with Baker at the helm. The changes we see don’t amount to a monumental shift in terms of his style. Instead, it’s rather the execution of what he is doing that feels so refreshing. What we are treated to in the movie’s first 45 minutes is one the most propulsive and euphorically paced first acts I’ve ever seen. Not since Paul Thomas Anderson’s Boogie Nights have I seen a film where so many of its scenes are imbued with the energy of its setting, that it instills a feeling in me that demands me to go back. This is largely the default mode for all of Anora’s first act, but the remainder of the film doesn’t discard that feeling. That feeling not only persists, it instead morphs into something infinitely more crushing. 

One of the most vital elements of the movie is that of the relationship between provider and client. The initial dynamic between Ani and Vanya, while charged with adventure and magnetic flirtation, is still transactional in nature. On paper, nothing about either of their choices stands out as anything out of the ordinary. They’re only doing what feels natural to them in this situation. Both parties are aware of what the other has to offer, and they’re not shy to take full advantage of that. Vanya is hardly subtle at hiding what it is he’s hoping to get out of in this relationship, but it’s through his gaudy affluence and effervescent charisma that Ani is moved to seriously consider Vanya’s proposal. While Ani is at first content with the very generous compensation in simply doing her job, she isn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Vanya spares no expense in his tryst with Ani, that it’s all but an inevitability for their lustful romance to transmogrify into what it does. The turn in their relationship comes in the form of Vanya’s proposal, transforming a seemingly spry and breezy understanding between two adults into a supposed lifetime commitment. The pair’s whirlwind romance of a lifetime comes in swift and without hesitance. The dazzling lights and lavish backdrops can’t help but to reverberate the energy that comes with the nonstop celebratory interludes which comprise their relationship both pre and post marriage. With nothing and no one keeping Ani and Vanya’s inhibitions in check, it makes the introduction of Vanya’s family all the more destructive.

While Vanya’s parents enter the stage quite late into the picture, their presence looms large through the proxies at their disposal. By the time they do appear, Ani has all but lost any power at salvaging her golden ticket at a life she’s quickly accustomed herself to. The thing about this that I find so debilitating is that Baker intentionally keeps Ani in the dark as long as he possibly can, all the while allowing the viewer to arrive at the conclusion that Ani is incapable of accepting. From the moment she senses her marriage is in danger, Ani instantaneously chooses fight over flight, a choice Vanya does not share. Part of what draws Ani to fight and eventually plead for her relationship with Vanya to persevere over this threat is the hope that she’ll never need to return to where she once was. By no means was Ani living on the margins of society, but the fantasy of her time with Vanya served as the ultimate light at the end of the tunnel. The nail in the coffin only hits when she realizes that the fantasy wasn’t just hers, but born out of Vanya’s propensity for make-believe. In Ani’s final confrontation with the Zakharov family, the only thing she can do is embrace her headstrong demeanor to say her piece and commit to her fate as all the choices that matter are made for her. In the film’s final scene, we come to understand what the true purpose is for why we’ve followed Ani on her frenetic odyssey. The various masks worn by Ani throughout the film are never without purpose. Be it the ravenous muse who’s caught in the glimmer of Vanya’s eye, or purporting her own Russian heritage to aim for acceptance, there is an underlying suspicion that something is being hidden underneath these veneers. The apotheosis of the picture arrives in three key acts which occur in quick succession. In response, Ani can no longer feign or rely on what she thinks she should do. She can only allow herself to accept what she’s feeling naturally, not through the perceived idea of Ani, but in response to someone who sees her as just Anora.

Rating: Loved It

Anora is currently playing in theaters


You can read more from Cris Mora-Villa, and follow him on Letterboxd and Twitter

Agree? Disagree? Leave a comment now!