It was perhaps inevitable that Sean Baker would eventually try his hand at the “hooker with a heart of gold” story. Baker, of course, has made a name for himself as American cinema’s preeminent chronicler of the lives of sex workers; his films, such as Tangerine and Red Rocket, portray the lives of those on the fringes of society with genuine compassion, while remaining raucously entertaining comedies. His latest, Anora, at first glance embraces Hollywood’s most enduring story of the Oldest Profession– the tough-talking street girl whisked away and civilized by the dashing young prince. Of course, being a Baker film, Anora is more complex (not to mention raunchier) than most of its glossier forbears. It is perhaps Baker’s best film to date, and easily one of the most satisfying films of the year.
Mikey Madison plays Anora– Ani to her friends– a charismatic young stripper who dazzles by night before returning to her cramped apartment under the train tracks in Brighton Beach. Her Prince Charming is Ivan (Mark Eidelshtein), the exuberant scion of a prominent Russian oligarch. Ivan is boyish and awkward (he says he’s 21, but pauses just long enough that you suspect he might be fudging), but he’s cute and charming and has lots of money and all the best drugs, so Ani gladly accepts an invitation to give him a private show (and then some) at his impossibly lavish mansion. That invite leads to parties, which leads to a lucrative proposition to “go exclusive,” which leads to a whirlwind romance, which inevitably brings the two of them to a roadside chapel on the Las Vegas strip. Reality sets in harshly for the newlyweds, however, when word gets back to Ivan’s father, who calls in his chief enforcer Toros (Baker regular Karren Karagulian) to round up the prodigal son and have his nuptials annulled as quickly and quietly as possible.
The marketing for Anora focuses heavily on its breathless and steamy first act and the wild chemistry between its ridiculously attractive young leads. This is understandable; sex sells, and princess stories sell even better. When Toros and his heavies show up, we naturally assume we’re about to follow these two crazy kids on the run from Mom and Dad and the powers that be. But this is where Baker throws in the first of his trademark subversions of expectations: Ivan hightails it, leaving his furious young bride to deal with the intruders herself (in one of the film’s funniest extended scenes, the tiny Madison proves more than a match for these three professional thugs, lashing out with the same manic intensity she used to channel Susan Atkins in Once Upon a Time in Hollywood). A chase does ensue, but Ani ends up on the side of the enforcers– after all, she wants to find her errant husband as much as they do, albeit to opposite ends.
It should come as no surprise, given Baker’s MO and Madison’s talent, that we more or less immediately fall in love with Ani (I’ll get back to her in a bit). More surprising, however, is his treatment of the so-called goons. On paper– even probably in the above synopsis– Toros scans as the villain of the piece, the ruthless enforcer sent to break up our happy couple. We soon realize, though, that Toros is not the Terminator, but rather a working-class family man who lives at the whim of his despotic boss (Karagulian is perfect to this end, portraying his character with the hangdog comic beats of a Harry Dean Stanton or Dan Hedaya). His own henchmen are no different; Garnick (Vache Tovmasyan) spends most of their journey zonked on painkillers after getting his ass kicked by Ani, and Igor (Yura Borisov) looks like he’d rather be doing anything other than roughing up this poor young girl. These aren’t B-movie villains; they’re just guys.
This is the Baker touch in a nutshell. All four of these characters, the stripper and the thugs, are frequently reduced to stock types on screen because they exist in real life on the lowest rungs of society– but they do exist. As the foursome frantically race through Brooklyn trying to piece together Ivan’s chaotic movements, we realize they’re all in the same boat, pawns being pushed around by a family too rich to care about them. They convene not in some secret headquarters, but at a late night diner over burgers and fries; Toros’ greatest act of violence comes when he wrests his car away from a tow truck driver because his wife needs it tomorrow. You or I might not be a sex worker or a mob heavy, but in the grand scheme of things we’re probably not that far removed.
Of course, now I’m falling into the trap that frequently befalls critics when discussing Baker’s work: we get so bogged down talking about the empathy and humanity of his characters that we lose sight of the fact that his films are comedies, and hysterically funny ones at that. Though the Hays office would never allow us to see Katharine Hepburn or Cary Grant in some of Madison and Eidelshtein’s more acrobatic positions, both the plot and the rhythms here would not be out of place in a classic Hollywood screwball comedy. The characters careen from one location to the next, getting more and more frantic as they wave Ivan’s Instagram photos in front of mystified strangers. The banter is whipped back and forth between these opposing personalities like ping pong balls– some no doubt originating from Baker’s trademark improvisation, but there is also a sense of craft in the dialogue which is refreshing in today’s dire comedic cinematic landscape. That we’re never quite sure whether the film will tilt fully into farce or tragedy only makes the laughs hit harder.
I’ve focused a lot on the ensemble here, but it must be said that there would be no Anora if its Anora weren’t stellar. I’ve been a fan of Madison since Hollywood, in which she gives perhaps my favorite of that film’s many great ten-minute performances (“Diiiiiiiig this!”). Here, she follows the lead of her onetime Manson Family cohorts Maragaret Qualley, Austin Butler, and Sydney Sweeney, announcing herself as a bonafide movie star. As a stripper, Ani is used to putting on personae, and Madison spends most of the film playing several roles at once: the kittenish seductress, the starstruck Disney princess, the tough-as-nails Brooklyn dame. Madison combines these facets with ease, shining through the chaos and easily dominating her hulking costars. If a performance is to be defined by how indelibly an actor brings to life an unforgettable character, I’m not sure there’s been a better one this year.
In these fractured times, the term “crowdpleaser” has lost much of its meaning; would-be slam-dunks like Spielberg’s West Side Story fail to draw crowds these days, let alone please them. But as the musclebound grasp of the superhero film begins to slip one franchise at a time (au revoir, Venom), forgive me for hoping that Anora may earnestly fit the bill. Anora is that rarest of films, at once funny, sexy, exciting, and profoundly human. From its giddy first act to its bittersweet final shot, this is the sort of film which ruled in the golden age of the ‘70s, and fingers crossed might come back into vogue. I can dream, anyway– and dreaming is free.
Anora
2024
dir. Sean Baker
139 min.
Opens Friday, 10/25 on 35mm @ Coolidge Corner Theatre. Also screening @ Kendall Square Cinema and AMC Boston Common
