Anora ★★½

Sean Baker, known best for his films Tangerine and The Florida Project, often directs films about sex workers. In press conferences and interviews, he notes that the stories he tells are intended to be universal stories and that they should hopefully help to reduce the stigma placed around the profession.

Baker’s latest film Anora follows a whirlwind period in Anora’s (Mikey Madison) life where she meets and falls in love with Ivan (Mark Eydelshteyn), a Russian “student” (that’s what his parents are made to believe). Ivan’s reason for being in America couldn’t be more different. Ivan throws lavish parties, consumes ample amounts of alcohol and drugs, and after seeing Anora you’d probably question whether he could sit still for a lecture. Ivan is juvenile yet Anora and him hit it off after they meet at Anora’s work. They bond over humor and their shared Russian heritage, and there’s something in the carefree Ivan that Anora enjoys. He tells her that he is the son of Russian oligarch Nikolai Zakharov (Aleksei Serebryakov) and Anora doesn’t really see him any differently. He is wealthy and a promising client, but she doesn’t place too much thought into it otherwise. But when Ivan pays for Anora to be his girlfriend for a week, the two become close and when the week comes to an end in Las Vegas, Ivan proposes and the couple do a uniquely American thing: get married in Vegas.

For a brief time, the two are happy and it’s easy to be happy in Ivan’s position – he has no responsibilities and Anora is his American fantasy. Despite only knowing each other a short time, Anora is confident about her marriage and looks forward to her future with Ivan. Things become problematic however when Ivan’s family hears rumors that Ivan has married a “prostitute”. Ivan’s family is concerned about their image and that if the rumors are true their family will be disgraced. Ivan’s father contacts Toros (Karren Karagulian), his handler in America, and Toros’ men Garnick (Vache Tovmasyan) and Igor (Yura Borisov) check in on Ivan to see if there is any truth to the rumors. After they meet Ivan and Anora at the house – and a bit of a slapstick style scuffle which prompts Ivan to run away and Anora to kick, scream at, and bite Toros and his men – Toros tells Anora that she and Ivan must get an annulment. He insists the marriage is a sham and that Ivan’s family will, in no uncertain terms, forbid it. Anora is in disbelief but stops resisting and is let go when she agrees to help the men find Ivan. Her intention, however, is not for the marriage to end. She loves Ivan and innocently believes she can make the right impression on his parents. She believes love will prevail.

The search for Ivan begins with Garnick and Igor providing humor in whiny complaints and in attempting to carry unwanted conversation with Anora, respectively. Nonetheless, there’s a sensitive side to Igor that manifests in often unappreciated ways such as when Igor offers to Anora the scarf he had used to gag her during their scuffle. Anora is insulted by this, but shortly gives in and takes the scarf for warmth. The search takes the quartet from restaurant to restaurant, nightclub to nightclub across Brighton Beach in a hectic pursuit. As the morning grows closer and Toros acts manic in his fear of Ivan’s parents, their efforts become more desperate and delirious as the tiredness sets in.

Underneath the comedy in Anora is a commentary on wealth and the impact that steep disparities in wealth can make towards commoditizing people and experiences. With sex work, a direct line can be drawn between an experience and a dollar amount and in Anora this is taken one step further when considering Anora and her value to Ivan. Anora’s romantic illusions fade away as she realizes Ivan regards her as entertainment and that her value to him is defined by her sex work and not by love. Due to their wealth, Ivan and his family can avoid meaningful consequences from Ivan’s immaturity through paying away their problems and Ivan’s marriage to Anora is viewed by them as just one more inconvenience caused by a stupid kid.

When considering Anora within the context of Baker’s films, there is a troubling conclusion that can be drawn. In Baker’s The Florida Project, Halley is a single mother who raises her six-year-old daughter Moonee along the outskirts of Walt Disney World. Halley is fired from her job as a stripper after refusing to have sex with her clients and she struggles to make ends meet. Halley and Moonee live full-time in a budget motel where Halley has to rely on her neighbors and the motel manager to protect Moonee and make sure Moonee and her friends don’t cause trouble. Halley can’t afford daycare and while living in a budget motel that isn’t the safest of places is unavoidable, it’s clear she cares deeply for her daughter and we empathize with her desire to protect her daughter and attempt to maintain Moonee’s childhood. We also recognize a commonality with Halley that the loss of a job would likely also lead to immense hardship and sacrifices in our own families.

With Anora, our empathy and what can be drawn in common between our lived experiences and Anora’s is limited. Seldom few of us will fall in love with someone from a different stratosphere of wealth and while an unfortunate relationship or two are a fact of life for most of us, what can be drawn from Anora that stirs our empathy? A belief that those with great wealth and power will abuse it? A suggestion that we are all commoditized? With the stated intention that Baker’s films are intended to evoke empathy (and this is cinema’s greatest strength), there’s an edge of meanness in Anora that causes me to struggle with this film. We can relate to Halley in The Florida Project due to recognizing the challenges of parenthood and the desire to protect our children. In Anora, our means of empathizing with Anora are to perceive our own lives and self-worth in terms of financial commodity with little provided to counter this idea. And I’m doubtful this is what Baker intends to be drawn from Anora’s story.

Even so, the closing scene of Anora resonates with its connection to Fellini’s great Nights of Cabiria. In Nights of Cabiria, a single teardrop carries an immense weight of significance and Anora’s tear provides a contrasting implication in Anora. With Red Rocket cinematographer Drew Daniels returning behind the camera, the closing scene of Anora is beautifully shot and takes advantage of the space it takes place in and the snowfall outside. Sean Baker is a master of concluding his films and Anora is no exception – what you see onscreen is secondary to its subtext.

From its fateful conclusion to the exuberance of its actors Mikey Madison & Mark Eydelshteyn, Anora makes an impression. There’s bliss, fury, and tragedy in Anora’s story with, in my case, a splash of frustration when placing the film in context of the stories Baker tells.