Celebrated indie writer/director Sean Baker isn't precious about sex. On social media, pearl-clutchers chatter about love scenes being unneeded in media. In politics, our bedroom activities and identities become fear-mongering talking points. Meanwhile, Baker shrugs off such puritanical shame, turning out one critically heralded movie after another that offers a defiantly casual yet humane portrait of sex work in the U.S.
Among his most notable: Tangerine, which won a slew of Gotham Awards, follows two enchanting trans sex workers around during a harried Christmas in Los Angeles. The Florida Project, which features Willem Dafoe in an Oscar–nominated supporting role, centers on the mischievous child of a sex worker, being raised in candy-colored squalor under the shadow of the Disney theme park. Palme d'Or nominee Red Rocket stars Simon Rex as a washed-up porn star looking for a new lease on life with a fresh-faced ingénue. Now, Baker's Palme d'Or winner Anora chases the Pretty Woman dream — a "hooker with a heart of gold" marries a wealthy white knight — to a far less Hollywood ending.
Rejecting both the Holly Golightly/Vivian Ward version of sex for sale and the gritty thriller route of treating sex work as scandalous set dressing, Baker has made films about Americans living on the fringe of a society that wants yet rejects them. And Anora may be his best yet.
Written and directed by Baker, Anora stars Mikey Madison (Scream 5, Better Things) as its eponymous heroine (and she would really prefer it if you called her Ani). When she's not getting shit from her sister/roommate in their humble Brooklyn apartment, the twentysomething is shaking her G-string-clad bum at a strip club with a beguiling smile on her face. Like Baker's previous films, sex work is shown with a mix of frankness and humor. So amid a montage of lap dances, Ani is also shown eating dinner out of a Tupperware while arguing with her boss about her rights as a freelance contractor. This snatch at office comedy is a simple way to demystify a job that's such a point of fascination and condemnation for American audiences.
However, Ani soon finds a way out of this grind when a sweet-faced and suspiciously wealthy Russian boy offers her a sugar daddy deal. What begins as a house call soon escalates into a trip to Vegas and a quickie wedding. But this isn't a flat-out love match for either. For Ani, it's a chance to be a trophy wife to a young, hot, rich husband with whom she actually enjoys hanging out. For Vanya (Mark Eidelshtein), Ani is a ticket to a green card that can keep him in the U.S. and away from the tedious demands of his oligarch parents back in Russia. As you might expect with such a setup, their honeymoon is short-lived. Before long, a couple of thick-necked goons come knocking at Vanya's New York City home, demanding an explanation about the rumor he's married beneath his station.
Mafia movies train us to brace for violence in such a scenario. And Baker delivers, but not in the way you'd expect. Rather than showing men brutalizing a beautiful, scantily clad young woman (a real danger for women in sex work), Ani turns the tables — and shatters them — in a sequence that is wild and unnervingly funny.
Far from a frightened mouse, Ani rages at these intruders who aim to bully her out of her dream and into an annulment. What follows is a wonderfully bewildering road trip movie. With Vanya having fled in a juvenile panic, it's up to a reluctant Ani, a motley crew of brooding Armenian brothers (Karren Karagulian and Vache Tovmasyan), and a bit of extra muscle in the introverted but emotionally intelligent Igor (Yura Borisov) to find the thrill-seeking heir before his very pissed-off parents land in their private jet.
Anora demands a lot of its leading lady.
Ani's work means Madison's body is on recurring display, performing steamy dances and acrobatic pole work in long shots that keep every extension in frame. The emotional arc of the story has dizzying highs and gut-churning lows, while the stunt work includes (but isn't limited to) the previously mentioned fight scene with shattered glass and a broken nose (not hers). On top of all of this, Madison must shoulder the story as every man in the vicinity of her heroine acts like a buffoon or a bully.
All this demands more than being Julia Roberts-level charming, which she is. It demands a smirking self-awareness, an edged brand of humor, and a vulnerability that can flash to defense in the blink of an eye. Madison isn't performing Ani; she's bringing to life a woman in full, from her carefully lacquered pedicure to her tinsel hair extensions. Ani might not be like someone you know, but by the end of the movie you will know her intimately.
It's easy to fall in love with Ani. And we're not the only ones who do.
From Tangerine's Mya Taylor to The Florida Project's Brooklynn Prince to Red Rocket's Simon Rex, Baker has an eye for casting. In his homeland of Russia, Yura Borisov has a sizable filmography. And whether you're familiar with it or not, it's easy to see why from the moment he makes eye contact with Ani. Though Igor is brought along in case there's trouble, his face is not one of aggression or threat. He's not some Goon #2, as his eyes glisten with a sharp understanding of every situation he finds himself in.
While all around him there's hollering and proselytizing and drama, his words are few and his tone is soft. Steadily and subtly, he becomes a counterpoint to the other characters, quietly making space for Ani's feelings and thoughts where others reject them. It's character work that relies so heavily on physicality that every shift of his eyebrow, shrug of his shoulder, or flex of his finger carries weight. And as Ani begins to notice this, the film moves further and further from the conventions of a mafia drama or a Hollywood happy ending, into a path that is Baker's to chart. And where it ends up is at once funny, frustrating, and yet satisfyingly cathartic.
Ushering audiences from the back rooms of a sweaty strip club to the silk sheets of a posh condo, to the dazzling, neon-lit promenade of Las Vegas and back to the pungent Russian restaurants of Coney Island, Anora is magnificently alive. Madison is its shining star, her charisma absolute as she wields a Brooklyn accent like a whip to dazzle with or wreak havoc as she sees fit. The supporting cast — including Lindsey Normington as a vicious rival — is terrifically grounded in Baker's Brooklyn of bumbling intimidation and reckless lust, nurturing sharp comments and sharper punchlines. But Borisov proves the perfect foil to Madison, allowing her to glow all the brighter under his gaze. He reflects our own growing awe of this badass broad who won't — to borrow from another 2024 cinematic sex worker — will not accept a life she does not deserve.
Underscoring this passionate tone, the cinematography of Drew Daniels draws us in closer, following over Ani's shoulder as she strides onto a stage or into a challenge. The resplendent colors — rich reds, cool teals — are set off against environments of posh beiges or urban grays, setting Ani apart as extraordinary in every moment. Altogether, Anora is a visceral experience, making its audience not voyeurs but one of the crew. Thus embedded, our pulses race, our eyes grow wide, our hearts dance as our heroes do. Anora offers a glorious thrill, as bold as it is brilliant.
Anora was reviewed out of the Toronto International Film Festival, and will open in theaters on Oct. 18, 2024.
