Sean Baker’s 2024 Palme d’Or-winner, Anora, is as hollow and reductive as it is raw and radiant, setting its standard too high with a near-perfect first act only to falter in the second and third. Named after its protagonist, Ani—played by Mikey Madison—the film follows a young Russian-American sex worker whose life veers dramatically off course when she crosses paths with Ivan “Vanya” Zakharov (Mark Eidelstein), the eccentric and impetuous son of a wealthy Russian oligarch.
Their worlds collide at an upscale Manhattan strip club where Ani works and, from there, Vanya begins paying for her company at his opulent Brooklyn mansion. Despite the transactional nature of their relationship, their dynamic is imbued with a disarming sweetness and innocence. Ani’s quiet confidence complements Vanya’s idiosyncratic charm with ease, drawing viewers into their improbable but enchanting world.
Bursting with charm and a sense of reckless fun, Anora’s first act is genuinely captivating. However, by convincing viewers that the film is going to center Ani’s perspective, this first act sets up a film that unfortunately does not come to fruition.
Before long, their escapades take them to Las Vegas where a combination of rebellion against his parents and infatuation with Ani drives Vanya to impulsively propose marriage. Ani, the pragmatist of the two, initially balks at the idea. “You want me to be your little wifey,” she teases, incredulous. However, Vanya’s unexpected and earnest declaration of affection swiftly wins her over, and the pair elopes that very night at the Little White Chapel. Bursting with charm and a sense of reckless fun, Anora’s first act is genuinely captivating. However, by convincing viewers that the film is going to center Ani’s perspective, this first act sets up a film that unfortunately does not come to fruition.
Upon their return to New York as husband and wife, Ani and Vanya begin living out a marital fantasy that is quickly shattered by the arrival of his father’s cartoonish henchmen—Igor, Garnick, and Toros—sent to wrangle Vanya and get him and Ani to a courthouse for an annulment. What follows is a cat-and-mouse chase through New York City where Ani, quickly abandoned by Vanya, is forcibly aligned with the very people who pose a threat to her new life. This sudden shift to an ensemble-driven plot offers moments of brilliantly crafted screwball comedy. However, it works in service of making the film fun and frantic, reducing Ani from the driving force of the film to a passive observer.
My biggest problem with Anora is that, for a character-driven piece about a woman, it fails to fully develop her as its protagonist. In the first act, Ani is portrayed as brassy, clever, and self-sufficient—someone who knows exactly how to navigate the world on her own terms. However, as the film progresses, Ani’s agency diminishes and she becomes increasingly subdued by the men around her. Her insistence that Vanya will fight for their marriage despite his abandonment goes completely against how she has been portrayed as a character. Baker gives us no credible explanation for such unwavering loyalty, and the film fails to reconcile Ani’s independence and grit with her continued tolerance of his betrayal, undermining both her character’s independence and intelligence. Although the allure of wealth and the chance for a better life may have justified her decision to marry Vanya, her boundless devotion feels contrived. While their initial connection is sweet, it never evolves into something truly romantic or fulfilling for Ani. Vanya, who seems more interested in partying and playing video games than building a mature relationship, does not offer Ani any genuine emotional or physical satisfaction. Because the film portrays Ani as successful before meeting Vanya—enjoying her life as a stripper and supporting herself financially—her commitment to him is implicitly framed around a desire for financial security that she neither truly needs nor convincingly desires. This works both to diminish her character and perpetuate a narrow view of sex work.
Ultimately, while Anora dazzles in its highs, its hollow emotional core ensures it never truly shines as it could have had it retained the heart, grit, and honesty it seemed poised to deliver.
While Anora promises to be a meaningful portrayal of a woman navigating complex power dynamics, it remains glaringly surface-level. While Ani is initially portrayed as a vibrant and self-assured protagonist, her agency is slowly whittled down to nonexistence; we seem to know less about her by the end of the film than we did at the beginning. Although Sean Baker expresses social curiosity into the lives of sex workers, curiosity is all it is. He fails to depict Ani as a fully realized person until the final scene, which feels like a cheap and half-hearted attempt to convey a sense of depth lacking throughout the narrative. Although her character is drastically underserved, Mikey Madison nonetheless delivers a glowing performance in a film that often fails to rise to her level, imbuing Ani with substance and charisma that the script struggles to support. Ultimately, while Anora dazzles in its highs, its hollow emotional core ensures it never truly shines as it could have had it retained the heart, grit, and honesty it seemed poised to deliver.
