This week, I was lucky enough to attend the Cambridge Film Festival. Among the wide variety of shorts and features chosen for the event, by far the largest-scale attraction was Anora, a major contender for Best Picture. A week before the official UK release, over 200 of us packed ourselves in for what was, for many, a first-ever viewing of this special film.
Before the screening, I felt quietly apprehensive. Sean Baker has become known for his low-budget explorations of various communities in America, primarily focusing on the lives of sex workers. There was no doubt Anora would retain Baker’s distinctive sensibilities, but judging by the trailer, I was somewhat concerned about the clearly higher budget. I wondered what this larger-than-life, high-class production could offer. Yet, in typical Sean Baker fashion, I was in for a flood of pleasant surprises.
You may be surprised at just how funny this film can be. It had the audience keeling over in fits of laughter. Even the man next to me could barely contain himself, his deep belly laughs making for a heartwarming experience. Usually, I find myself frustrated with busy cinema crowds, but this was one of the most uplifting, fun-loving audiences I’ve had the pleasure of experiencing. From the outset, the film’s dry, consistent humor flourished. Mikey Madison’s portrayal of Ani, the plain-speaking, brassy stripper, is instantly charming—a word that perfectly captures Anora’s appeal.
I won’t reveal too much of the plot, but some details are necessary to explain what makes Anora so good. Ani is initially charmed by Ivan, and after a week of whirlwind romance, he proposes. However, Ivan’s character soon unravels. He starts off as a charismatic, slightly immature 21-year-old, endearing us with his broken English and his dynamic with Ani’s semi-decent Russian. But by the time his parents are on their way from Russia to annul the marriage, Ivan begins to show how a refusal to grow up can have serious consequences. He throws temper tantrums, storms out, and ultimately abandons Ani.
At this point, the film’s structure shifts. The first act was full of frantic montages of indulgence—drinks, drugs, and unbridled fun. But once Ivan leaves, Anora pivots into an investigative procedural reminiscent of High and Low. Ani is held captive in a mansion full of destruction and audiovisual chaos. The characters scream, fight, and tear their way to conclusions, and this high-stakes energy remains throughout the runtime. Anora keeps you glued to the screen, maintaining focus without wasting time on pointless plotlines. It allows just enough chaos to stay exciting without overwhelming you, and it never overstays its welcome.
Baker continues to use his signature guerrilla filmmaking techniques, employing the public to populate his scenes—asking bystanders if they’ve seen Ivan. His blend of naturalism against a high-class backdrop is an impressive directorial feat. You can see why the Cannes jury was inspired to award it the Palme d’Or. Baker’s skillful balance of action, comedy, and drama is what sets this film apart. It’s hilarious, gripping, and deeply emotional. The increased budget is put to good use, underscoring a message about the importance of simplicity. Baker’s restraint, in contrast to films like Megalopolis, where excess takes over, is refreshing.
The film’s conclusion hinges on Ani’s understated relationship with a side character. Though he has few lines, his presence beside Ani becomes increasingly notable. There’s a subtle but undeniable chemistry between them, and in the midst of all the chaos, he brings a groundedness that Ani yearns for. After their rocky introduction, Igor treats Ani with care and remorse, showing a kindness absent from the film’s other characters. His likability breathes life into the film’s relationships and keeps it relatable.
The final scene is a long shot, slowing the pace and giving us a lingering moment with Ani and Igor. It’s uncomfortable, yet so intriguing—you’re caught up in wondering where it’s headed. Just when you think you know, the film subverts your expectations with an unflinching display of emotion. Ani’s life has been upended once again in a matter of days, and she’s left to confront a new reality. It’s the perfect, deeply affecting conclusion to such a powerful, graphic story.In conclusion, Anora is some of Sean Baker’s finest work.
He not only subverts his usual style but also delves deeper into mainstream cinema conventions. This film offers something for everyone. It’s arguably his most accessible and likable film, filled with flawed but compelling characters who feel real and relatable. Anora leaves you with plenty to ponder, ensuring it stays with you long after the credits roll. You may find yourself wanting to watch it again—maybe even two or three times—before it hits streaming!
Jack Yates has an exceptional talent for delving into the nuances of East Asian cinema, bringing a unique perspective that’s both insightful and captivating. A lifelong movie lover, his deep appreciation for film extends beyond the screen, particularly when it comes to the intricate storytelling of Paul Thomas Anderson, which resonates with his profound understanding of the human condition. Jack’s passion also extends to the world of anime, where his admiration for Neon Genesis Evangelion and the visionary work of Hideaki Anno adds another layer to his distinct voice in cinematic commentary. Whether it’s dissecting the subtle emotions in a film or exploring the complexities of Anno’s universe, Jack Yates brings a thoughtful and engaging approach to every piece he writes.