“Does your family know what type of work you do?” a strip club patron asks Anora as she grinds on his lap. “Does your family know you’re here?” she snaps back, playfully. It’s a question every sex worker has heard a million times. An attempt to put us down, put themselves on a higher ground of morality, and still utilize the services we offer.
In Sean Baker’s Anora, Ani (Mikey Madison), short for (you guessed it) Anora, works at a strip club in Brooklyn. She spends her nights chatting up men in enthusiastic conversation, dancing, and occasionally sleeping with them in exchange for money. She is good at her job, luring gentlemen to the “VIP room” with a pop of her gum or a bite of her plump bottom lip. One night, a young Russian oligarch, Ivan (Mark Eidelstein) requests her company as she’s the only one on staff that speaks his language. The two hit it off and his rambunctious, party boy ways sweep Ani up in a sudden whirlwind of lavish celebration, copious amounts of alcohol and drugs, and mansion stays. During a spontaneous trip to Vegas, Ivan proposes and they elope. His powerful parents, however, do not approve and vow to have the marriage of Ani and the irresponsible Ivan annulled.
The first act of Anora is a rainbow-flared fairytale. The bubbly, brash Ani has found her prince charming in the young playboy. Ani is delighted by Ivan’s unabashed enthusiasm for her time and company, and he compensates her generously. Lounging in his mansion or in a master suite at a hotel, there are instances where Ani is surprised at where she is, what she has worked her way up and into. Her face turns to sympathetic discomfort when, reclining on the couch in Ivan’s arms, she must lift her feet up so that the maid can vacuum. A streak of shock runs through her when Ivan goes “all in” betting and losing 20k in a split second, with not even a wince on his part. It’s these small bursts of expression that illustrate the world Ani has just come from, one where she must turn herself into a product in order to live a moderately comfortable life.
Mikey Madison stuns with her depth of character and mannerisms. Her knowledge and deep research of sex work, what it entails, and how interactions unfold in those environments and situations is more than impressive, it’s essential to a character that doesn’t get their story told very often. Through the soft, pastel-hued lens, Baker never casts judgment on Ani. He celebrates her personality and the ways in which she uses her body, the very things she utilizes in her career.
When Ivan complains about his parents sending him back to Russia, an idea pops into his head. If they were married, he’d have a green card and could stay in the US. So, off they go, married in Las Vegas on what was an impulsive trip to begin with. When his parents are made aware of the arrangement, they are furious that Ivan would shame their family by marrying a “whore.” The movie takes a distinct turn as Ivan, overwhelmed by the thought of returning to Russia under his parent’s thumb, bolts after his parents’ lacky, Toros (Karren Karagulian), is sent to retrieve him. He abandons Ani in the company of Toros and his underlings, Igor (Yuriy Borisov) and Garnik (Vache Tovmasyan). From then on, we are no longer treated to the spirited musings of Ani, instead the viewer is wrapped up in a search party for Ivan at the behest of Toros and his two henchmen. The focus shifts entirely to a chaotic race against time to find Ivan within the hours before his parents arrive.
Throughout it all, Ani rarely wavers in her adamant and radical self-respect despite being repeatedly disrespected. Yet, she no longer controls her destiny. As with so many films about sex workers, her fate is determined by the men around her. With the creation of Ani, such a distinct personality, the possibilities for her are endless. In Anora, her fate is circumscribed, her future is tapered. All Ani can do is fight back with verbal objections as she rides around Brooklyn in Toros’ white SUV looking for the maddeningly immature Ivan. Every word or action is now in relation to this man she is attached to, for better or worse, in sickness and health.
As with many of Sean Baker’s movies, themes emerge in the final shots that recontextualize some of the film just seen. I can’t help but shudder at a regressive undercurrent of emotional denial or withholding within a character so steeped in sex and sexuality. Anora‘s practically seamless tonal shifts and sharp (in the case of Madison, profound) performances make for a strong, defined comedy with dramatic weight. Although the film carries its head high for nearly the entire runtime, it might just undersell itself in the last moments. Absence of judgment does not necessarily give way to a mature reading of the character’s inner life and emotional drives.
In a film that serves, in part, as recognition of Ani as a fully realized person, it feels disingenuous to mine sympathy for an internal struggle only cast upon her in its last scene. Would it be so void of pathos or interest simply for an escort to do the work she does because she enjoys and is good at it? Ivan views Ani as a commodity, a plaything. In a film so charged with Ani’s misadventure, I’m unsure if Sean Baker views her any differently.
Anora is now playing in theatres.
