What does it mean to dream when you’re always waking up to a world that demands you fight for every scrap of joy?
That’s the question at the beating heart of Sean Baker’s "Anora," a film that sweeps you into the vibrant, chaotic life of a young woman trying to carve out a sliver of happiness in a world that seems determined to wrest it away.
At its center is Ani, a Brooklyn stripper who carries herself like a woman who knows every trick in the book, yet still holds onto a faint glimmer of hope that the world might offer her something kinder. Ani prefers to be called anything but her given name, Anora—a detail that seems small until you realize it’s the thread that ties her journey together. By the film’s end, it’s impossible to imagine her as anything else.
The story begins with a chance meeting that feels like it’s been ripped from the pages of a screwball fairy tale: Ani is summoned to entertain Ivan, the exuberantly clueless son of a Russian oligarch who’s as green as the hundred-dollar bills he throws around with reckless abandon. He’s young—too young to know better—but Ani, ever the pragmatist, takes the job. What unfolds between them is a romance that feels equal parts absurd and achingly sincere. Ivan is like a wolf pup, bounding into Ani’s life with wild energy and a reckless sense of invincibility. Together, they create a world that’s their own—a fever dream of impulsive decisions, risky joyrides, quick sex, and an unforgettable Vegas wedding that feels too fragile to last.
But Baker isn’t interested in fairy tales. The dream can’t hold, and when Ivan’s parents find out about their son’s impromptu marriage to a “prostitute,” the chaos begins in earnest. Three heavies—each more colorful than the last—are dispatched to “fix” the situation, and what follows is a riotous descent into screwball pandemonium. Yet, even in its most madcap moments, Baker never loses sight of his characters’ humanity.
There’s Toros, Ivan’s fumbling godfather, whose blustering bravado masks his own insecurities and fears. There’s Garnick, the funniest of the three, a wannabe tough guy who seems more put-upon than menacing, and gets a good licking from Ani for good measure. And then there’s Igor, the supposed muscle who, with a single act of unexpected kindness, becomes one of the film’s most poignant figures.
Borisov’s Igor is emblematic of what makes Anora so special: it’s a story full of contradictions, where tenderness blooms in the most unlikely places. One moment, Igor is helping restrain Ani in one of the funniest scenes of 2024, as part of his job; the next, he’s offering her a red scarf to keep warm on a freezing boardwalk. It’s a gesture loaded with meaning—at once practical, poetic, and a quiet acknowledgment of her humanity. Baker gives his characters room to breathe, to surprise us, to reveal unexpected depths. No one is a stereotype here, least of all Ani.
Mikey Madison delivers a star-making performance as Ani, capturing every facet of a character who is at once tough and tender, guarded and open-hearted. Her Ani is a woman who can crack a joke that cuts to the bone one moment and flash a smile so full of longing it’s almost painful to witness the next. She fights, fiercely, for her own agency, but Madison also shows us the quieter moments of doubt and vulnerability that make Ani so compelling. It’s the kind of performance that doesn’t just draw you in—it stays with you, long after the credits roll.
What makes Anora so extraordinary is its refusal to take the easy path. Baker could have leaned into the absurdity of the story, letting it veer into pure comedy, or he could have taken a more sentimental route. Instead, he threads the needle, crafting a film that’s as funny as it is heartbreaking, as chaotic as it is deeply felt. The result is a film that feels alive, bursting with the messy, contradictory beauty of real life.
By the time the film reaches its stunning, bittersweet conclusion, it’s clear that, once again, Baker has done something remarkable. "Anora" doesn’t tie everything up with a neat bow—it leaves us with questions, with hopes, with a sense of yearning for what comes next - that closing shot left me reeling in my own emotions for about a week. But it also leaves us with the unshakable belief that Ani will find her way. After all, she’s Anora now—a name as strong and resilient as the woman who wears it.
Sean Baker has always had a gift for shining a light on the margins, for finding dignity and beauty in places that others might overlook. With "Anora," he doesn’t just shine a light—he sets the whole screen ablaze. It’s a film that leaves you exhilarated, heartbroken, and ultimately, deeply grateful to have been invited into Ani’s world, if only for a little while.
10/10
Add comment
Comments