Award-Winning “Anora” Movie Review
Spoilers Included Below, You’ve Been Warned
“Anora” is a 2024 comedy-crime movie written and directed by indie darling Sean Baker. The story follows Ani, an exotic dancer from Brooklyn, who begins a romantic (and highly sexual) relationship with Ivan, the son of a Russian oligarch. When news of their marriage reaches his parents back home, he flees, leading Ani and a trio of Russian brutes to hunt down Ivan before his parents arrive to annul their marriage.
The film has ensnared the film festival circuit, most notably winning the Palme d’Or at the Cannes Film Festival (the film-bro’s Oscars). Thanks to the positive festival publicity, plus an unconventional narrative about a sympathetic sex worker, “Anora” is the current frontrunner for the Academy Awards’ Best Picture (and a personal 2024 favorite of several Czech film students).
I will not attempt to avoid spoilers.
Firstly, the movie is funny. From the opening shot of a series of middle-aged men receiving luxurious lap dances, the tone is set with a very self-aware wit that consistently nudges the audience into laughter. Our protagonist, Ani, is her own form of self-aware eccentricity. Her accent is thickly Brooklyn; her spirited clothing is finely sewn to compliment her plaster of makeup; her interactions with each character are as fueled by modern feminism as they are with pure hysterics. These comedic yet realistic traits make her character, someone in a non-mainstream profession, relatable to the audience, as if they too were lavishing in the seedy club scene of nighttime Brooklyn.
Actress Mikey Madison, known previously for “Scream” (2022) and FX’s “Better Things,” excels in the role with enough naïve romanticism to balance the steadfast confidence of her actions. When Ani pushes forward in her romance with Ivan, played by the unknown Mark Eydelshteyn, she is swept into an idealized world of riches, beauty, travel, and LOTS of sex. She happily and blindly commits herself to this new world without properly recognizing the conflicts that may arise. Maybe marrying a rich Russian boy whom you met two weeks ago is a bad idea if you come from the slums of Brooklyn and have never been outside the city. Just maybe. Yet, she goes along with the sudden change, without any safety net to fall back on. No parents, no job, and probably no insurance (I’m assuming). She is so damn in love with this boy, or rather the thought of what could come by marrying this boy, which makes her ultimate comeuppance purely devastating.
The romantics soon die off quickly when some of the family goons show up to force the couple’s annulment (not divorce—no good Russian Orthodox would ever). In an equally horrific and hilarious scene, Ivan flees the family house as the goons force their way in. By the might of Ani, one goon’s nose breaks while the other borderline sexually assaults her. “Hey now, that does not sound all too funny, Mister D2.” “You are correct, kiddo! However, you’d be hard pressed to find anyone in my theater who wasn’t laughing their ass off!” It was terrifying; Ani gets tied up and has her face pressed into the crevasse of a couch as a fit bald Russian named Igor pushes her down with his full body. “Hey now, Mister, you’re scaring me! What’s so funny about this scene?” “Well, kiddo, nothing! But with some simple editing and exaggerated facial reactions, the scene becomes a whirlwind of comedy! Fun for the whole family!?”
This is when Baker raises the film’s central moral dilemma: if you are watching a movie, laughing at the fictional situation (like the one presented), where is the line when you, the viewer, become just as villainous as the characters on screen? Yes, these scenes are not real; none of these characters exist beyond the credits, but these terrifying moments cause detrimental physical and emotional pain to the characters. Yet, we laugh. Why?
Take a similar example in “The Office.” When Dwight locks all the doors in the office and starts a small trash fire, the rest of the employees begin scrambling in chaos as they try and fail to escape. Many audiences consider it a TV comedy classic. Yet, these characters genuinely believe they may die in the moment, causing extensive property damage and emotional trauma in the process. But it’s hilarious? Are we simply meant to laugh because we are influenced by the idiosyncrasies of each character, not caring about their well-being or safety?
“Anora” wants to discover where that line of “care” is placed. How much of Ani’s situation can we laugh at with ignorant, horny and empathetic glee before we realize that this woman’s entire life has been terminally ruined? Her body and mind were used by some privileged man twig for his intoxicated pleasure and, in the end, all she is left with is ten thousand dollars for the annulment. Hilarious, right? Because the film seems to think so.
Another point to bring up: Igor becomes a “likeable” character by being the only character to show Ani any sympathy. For some oblong reason that I am still processing, he is meant to be completely redeemed by the end. Or is he? Most people I saw the movie with consider him the sweetest character, saying, “I like Igor. Be like Igor,” directly after watching his journey. He is just a cute and obedient 30-year-old brute that compliments Ani. That changes everything!
In the movie’s final moments, Ani finds solace in the one person she has left: Igor. All she knows now is how to use her body, giving it to him in return for his. Then… I cannot tell you what happens! The last 20 seconds of the film change your entire perspective on the rest of the story. Madison delivers a final, heartbreaking, agonizing, empathetic, borderline disgusting goodbye that causes the beetles in your skin to crawl with discomfort. It’s bitter and haunting in all the right ways. Please everyone, watch this movie.