Anora (Baker, 2024)

 Written by Kenza Bouhnass-Parra

I had the opportunity to attend an advanced screening of this year’s Palme d’Or winner, Anora (Baker, 2024), at the Festival du Nouveau Cinéma (Montreal Film Festival). Not only was it one of my most memorable theatre experiences of late — alongside The Substance (Fargeat, 2024) — but the high it elicited in me lasted for days.

Anora, the title character, is a 23-year-old sex worker living with her sister in Brooklyn. She prefers to be called Ani, her eyes go wide open when she hears the word ‘prostitute’, and she will out-curse you at any given time. When she meets Ivan, the son of a Russian oligarch, her life takes a turn transforming into the fairytale she’s always dreamed of, and she will not hesitate to dive headfirst into it, no matter how crazy the fantasy might become. 

Anora is a more insane-by-the-minute film. The audience is interjected into the craziness of Anora’s persona within the first shot, and the whirlwinds do not stop until the credits appear. The pace is fast, our attention constantly snatched by another turn of events. Any sort of stability continuously spun and thrown across the room. It can be argued that each act could be a bit shortened. Some points are a bit too repetitive, some jokes a bit too emphasised, and a couple of sequences too stretched out. But where the film excels is by immediately following the few drags sparsely felt, by a more raucous cacophony, which instantly pulls you back into the rhythm. The ride is demanding, with multiple characters sharing the screen most of the time, talking over each other, and running in all directions. It could have easily transformed into a noisy mess that overwhelms the viewer. 

Yet Anora is not Sean Baker’s first shot at following flamboyant characters who take us on their improbable and outlandish adventures. However, it does feel like the least Sean Baker film in his filmography, from the very extraordinary houses, costumes, and cars to the main character sometimes taking a back seat instead of being at the center of every scene, if feels grand. We are flown from one place to another, major characters are introduced in the second and even third act, participating in that whirlwind of experience. It is Sean Baker’s most visually impressive film to date. The cameras are soaring with movement, and a vibrant energy is felt throughout with lighting creating a distinct vitality to every single newly introduced place, as well as reflecting the characters’ state of mind and evolutions. 

As the soundtrack becomes a character by itself, the heart of Anora is conducted by Mikey Madison giving a star-making performance. She brings a fearlessness to Anora that both commands the screen and captures the audience’s heart. She flickers between tenacity and desperation with brilliance, blurring the lines between the fairytale and the crumbling castle as she tries to save the walls. Every flutter of emotion passes through her eyes and a monumental empathy emanates from the rawness of the charm that she brings to the character. Some line deliveries become instant classics as they leave her mouth, with a comedic timing that never falters and off-chart chemistry with Mark Eydelshteyn (Ivan), Karren Karagulian (Toros), and especially Yuriy Boris (Igor). It is when Igor and Anora are left to their own roaming that the heart of the film pumps its blood the hardest. 

As the audience soars with laughter, so much so that as the credits rolled, I had to hold on to my stomach with how much it hurt, Anora turns the thrill of the lavishness into a contemplation of the working class aspirations. The hysterical amusement is at the end of the day a facade to the crumbling reality. The naturalistic approach to the filmmaking, with a particularly sharp but innate dialogue, brings a candor that sparks a tragic empathy. It is an absolute screwball that will leave you devastated. 

Anora released in North American October 25th, expanding to other countries within the following month. Get to the cinema to watch this film with the biggest crowd possible.

Letterboxd Review

Photo credits to Letterboxd, The Hollywood News, and World of Reel.