Sean Baker’s Palme d’Or winner, Anora, is a Cinderella-esque journey of a sex worker against all odds.
Sean Baker’s analysis of the marginal communities across the United States in his films is rooted in
humanity with his approach towards realism, not only in the widely spectacles of the subject, but
their everyday life. Breaking out with his fifth feature film, Tangerine (2015), a look into a black transgender sex-worker on the streets in Hollywood to his previous film, Red Rocket (2021), a former male pornstar trying to reclaim his fame in Texas through preying on a younger woman, Baker’s films about sex work often stand out due to his esoteric knowledge of these workers. With his latest and longest film to date, Anora, premiering at the 2024 Cannes Film Festival in competition for Baker’s second time in a row, is about Ani (Mikey Madison), an erotic dancer’s kaleidoscopic quest towards, yet again another Sean Baker trope, the American Dream.
Beginning in Baker’s now-standard cinemascope aspect ratio in the club, we see a row of seats of men receiving lap dances with the camera panning from right to left ending on Ani’s lap dance with the title card “Anora”. In its dark rooms with vibrant blue and red lighting, Ani roams around the club to scout and earn pay by reeling the men into dances in her Long Island accent that is modulated throughout the film. From the very beginning, Baker’s approach to reach a certain realism is supported by the everyday conversation such as the dancers’ complaints towards the DJ or the stories of customers’ kinky fetishes. She meets Ivan (Mark Eydelshteyn), the eclectic scrawny son of a Russian oligarch, who persuades Ani through his party mindset and lavish lifestyle, eventually convincing her to an exclusive relationship turned marriage during an escapade in Las Vegas.
The depiction of both Ani and Ivan may seem like the stereotypical portraits of young adults in America as stated in one of the more funnier monologues during a diner scene mentioning “…none of you have any work ethic! You just all want to buy cool sneakers.” But what Baker deceptively shows is the external lives, but discreetly provides just enough subtlety to see the inner humanity within his characters. For instance, Ani’s fluency in Russian was to communicate with her grandma and her shared-apartment across the city in Brighton Beach sits across the train tracks, indicating a gentle spirit and her economic living situation. We don’t see much of her time alone because she simply doesn’t have any due to her urgency to live, leaving her emotionally incapable to process her feelings.
The longest section; tones down its exuberant energy to a slapstick pursuit after tabloids about their marriage come out, leading to Ivan’s parents calling upon his “henchmen” to handle the situation to get the marriage annulled. In most movies, Russian bodyguards would be shown as intimidating and threatening, but Baker throws that notion away in favor of real-life humans. Toros (Karren Karagulian), Garnik (Vache Tovmasyan), and Igor (Yuriy Borisov), the three men (two Armenian and one Russian respectively), are called upon by Ivan’s parents to confront Ivan and Ani at his mansion, leaving Ivan to run away, abandoning Ani with the three. Pressured by the Russian family about their status, they are on edge to not fail them, in which comedy ensues in a cat and mouse situation where Ivan is always one step ahead of them finding themselves in restaurants, diners, bars, and clubs. Ivan, a one-dimensional character, who’s brilliantly acted due to his bodily gestures, but underwritten, is eventually caught at a club where his fairytale life comes to a halt.
In between this journey, Igor is the quietly observant one whose working-class background parallels Ani’s journey. Both of Russian descent, Igor lives with his grandmother and isn’t as coercive as the other two. He gives Garnick pain meds when he’s hurt and even offers Ani a scarf when she is cold after she initially rejects it. Baker’s attention to providing layers to all his characters is the heart of his filmmaking. They feel like real humans rather than caricatures, where most films would write the henchmen as cliches.
In the last act of the film, the parents finally meet Ani in a confrontation where the determined Ani matches the tenacious Russian matriarch. As realism settles and what the film finally realizes is that Ani is no match for this whole showdown. A working class erotic dancer from New York cannot defeat a Russian oligarch. I can’t spoil the ending due to its vital impact, but it pretty much makes or breaks the film and is a step forward towards Baker’s ability in storytelling to unlock feeling and humanity in which the world is set up to unfairly punish these marginalized people. It’s not a new concept, but by treating these characters on just their appearances and preconceived notions set up by society, we strip away their humanity, and what Baker shows in Anora, is a woman pushed to the edge by the fallacy of the American dream.
Our reporters are on the ground in Cannes, France, to bring you exclusive content from the 77th Cannes Film Festival—explore our coverage here.
