It’s Okay To Like ‘Anora’
Photo by Neon
When I first saw Anora in theaters last fall, I was transfixed. Four-time Academy Award-winning indie director Sean Baker masterfully builds a cinematic world brimming with pleasure and play, violence and absurdity, comedy and glamour—all set against the cold, unconventionally stripped-down backdrop of Brighton Beach, New York.
At the heart of the film is Oscar Winner Mikey Madison’s titular Anora, or Ani, a fiery Russian-American stripper living in the gritty burlesque of Brighton Beach. When she crosses paths with Ivan, played by the golden retriever-esque Russian Timothée Chalamet dupe, Mark Eydelshteyn—who just so happens to be the nepo baby of a Russian oligarch visiting the United States on an indulgent and hedonistic bender—Ani undergoes a rags-to-riches transformation that is put in jeopardy when Ivan’s parents find out what he has been doing and send their goons to bring him back to Russia.
Anora unfolds in three distinct acts: a ketamine-fueled, vape-juice, pop-rave Cinderella story fueled by excess, a slapstick Three Stooges-style action comedy, and a somber melodrama. The brief yet intense romance between Ani and Ivan explores the cruel attachments and false manifestations of love and success perpetuated by the American Dream. This film devotes equal attention to its themes of class mobility, the stigmatism around sex work, and modern romance.
The final sequence feels like a hangover; lying in bed while the grey sky outside hits you with the gut punch of regret and shattered dreams. The closing scene, in its haunting and stark silence, leaves your heart sinking. It makes any viewer reluctant to leave their seat and re-enter society—perhaps mirroring Ani's experience—as if none of it was real.
There has been some feminist backlash to Anora that fails to recognize the intentional exploitation of the female body in this film. In an interview with IndieWire, Baker notes that the highly stylized opening is a purposeful pornification of the film. In a space that pacifies women’s perspectives, Anora plays with cinematic conventions of visual pleasure and the male gaze while exploring these thematic shifts throughout the film’s aforementioned genres.
Amidst the feminist discourse surrounding Anora, I was reminded of pioneering Black feminist thinker Audre Lorde, who emphasized in her influential essay “The Uses of the Erotic” how crucial it is to bring the erotic into our lives. She describes the erotic as a powerful source, distinct from the pornographic. The erotic exists in a deeply feminine and spiritual space, often made up of unexpressed and unrecognized emotions.
Passages from “The Uses of the Erotic” via @socializm_
There’s something to be said about Ani's relationship with Ivan, which can be seen as more pornographic in nature, focusing on sensory feelings rather than the accompanying emotional ones. The film shifts from the pornographic to the erotic, depicting Ani’s journey toward a deeper sense of satisfaction, or perhaps wholeness and security, despite the film’s somber conclusion. For much of the film, her eroticism is suppressed, vilified, or even abused. However, by the film’s end, her emotional depth is explored in humanistic ways, seen through her fears of financial scarcity and her evolving connection with Igor, played by Yura Borisov, whose Oscar-nominated performance adds another layer of complexity to her search for fulfillment.
When discussing the award show dissatisfaction, it’s important to acknowledge the male-centric subjectivity inherent in many of these ceremonies. One such point of contention is Mikey’s win over Demi Moore, which has sparked widespread debate online. Comment sections across Instagram, Reddit, and X have drawn comparisons between Mikey’s victory and the unfolding of The Substance, echoing the outrage over Margot Robbie and Greta Gerwig's Oscar snubs for Barbie. This ongoing conversation highlights how industry biases continue to influence who is recognized and valued.
But here’s where I think the debate is missing the mark. While it’s absolutely worth discussing the visibility and recognition of women in the industry, it's crucial to consider the deeper nuances of performance and storytelling—factors that are often viewed through a lens that favors certain types of performances over others.
Instead of critiquing the historically problematic and violent over-celebration of young white actresses for Best Actress nominations, while overlooking older, more established nominees, people need to recognize that the Oscars are a drama-centered award show. In this case, Demi's portrayal of Elizabeth Sparkle was a body horror performance, one that, while unique, never stood a chance against Mikey’s deeply heartbreaking and emotionally complex character study of Ani.
It’s easy to fall into the trap of rooting for the underdog or rallying behind something that feels like a snub, but when you break it down, Mikey’s performance had layers that connected to a broader emotional experience. Meanwhile, Demi’s was an extreme piece of physical transformation and discomfort—one that, while impressive in its own right, didn’t carry the same narrative weight.
We have to acknowledge that the nature of award shows, especially the Oscars, often rewards performances that create emotional impact and resonate with the deeper, quieter human experiences. Mikey’s portrayal of Ani wasn’t just about a role—it was about a journey into the human psyche that struck a chord with both audiences and voters.
Award show politics aside, Anora is a movie that takes you on a wild journey, leaving you with more to think about long after the credits roll. Long live independent cinema!