Review Tales

Sean Baker, America’s neo-realist and king of low-budget filmmaking, has seen his still-developing career gain some success in recent years. This success has allowed him to transition from micro-budget projects to indie films and venture into the realm of “indiewood” and collaborations with A24. Today, I’m taking on the task of breaking down all eight of his films and ranking them from worst to best—in my opinion.

8) Four Letter Words (2000)

A disappointing start from Baker. Fresh out of college, he took on the task of making his first feature film—a story that explores the immaturity and vulgarity of post-adolescent men.

Its intentions aren’t lost within its narrative, though it overstays its welcome and comes across as crude and a little despicable at times—something Baker would later tackle with much more nuance.

Four Letter Words reflects the energy of its characters: they’re icky and seek little redemption. While a bit distasteful, it’s not the worst first attempt at a feature film. However, its amateurish attitude, style, and gravitas weigh it down. Not one I’d recommend outside of completionist purposes.

7) Starlet (2012)

I had originally placed Starlet in 5th, but when it came time to write, I found myself at a loss to justify its position over what comes next. Starlet is built around its moral conundrum: do you return a large sum of money, unbeknownst to its owner, or keep it for yourself? However, what truly makes the film stand out is the unlikely friendship between an aging widow and an up-and-coming porn star.

This film marks Baker’s first exploration of the world of sex work, a theme he has continued to delve into over the past decade. Even in Starlet, he approached the subject with an unfiltered attitude. By Hollywood standards, the graphic sex scenes might seem bold, but they contribute to the film’s authenticity, contrasting beautifully with the quiet life of the elderly Sadie.

In my eyes, a slightly disappointing ending keeps this film from fully resonating. While it contains some of Baker’s daring choices and unique idiosyncrasies, Starlet ultimately feels like his most conventional work. Its distinctly indie nature leaves it as possibly the most forgettable entry on this list.

6) Tangerine (2015)

Although best known for its ambitious attempt at being the first feature film shot on an iPhone, Tangerine is most memorable for its characters. The camera work quickly becomes seamless, allowing you to fully immerse yourself in the narrative. While the story is, in theory, incredibly simple, it’s elevated by its vibrant characters.

We’re thrown straight into their complex lives, experiencing their deepest emotions, spontaneity, and humor. The central characters, Sin-Dee and Alexandra, are intricately intertwined with taxi driver Razmik, whose infidelity causes immense suffering within his own family.

Despite some egregious musical choices that occasionally pull me out of the experience, I believe Tangerine earns its place through sheer ambition and daring. It’s a timeless piece of filmmaking, destined to be remembered for a long, long time.

5) Prince of Broadway (2008)

In Prince of Broadway, Sean Baker begins to expand the scope of his films. He tackles deeper emotional themes, such as the idea of parenthood and the immense pressures it entails. This complex and mature subject marks a pivotal moment in his career, showcasing his ability to portray contemporary America and its societal issues with remarkable insight.

Following his earlier film Take Out (2004), Baker once again explores the daily life of an undocumented immigrant—this time, a man burdened with a child he didn’t know he had. The film delves into the resilience of the human spirit, depicting the struggle of hustling day to day while learning to nurture a child he never expected or wanted.

This tenderness, set against the cold and unforgiving backdrop of New York City, creates a strikingly sympathetic contrast. Prince of Broadway is deeply grounded in realism, with lifelike struggles and relatable hustles. It will frustrate you in your yearning for the characters to succeed, but it’s precisely this emotional resonance that makes the film so impactful.

4) Red Rocket (2021)

Sean Baker has a real knack for presenting an unobjective perspective alongside complex characters, and Red Rocket represents the pinnacle of that so far. Tackling themes of marital infidelity, predatory grooming, and rampant narcissism, Baker captures it all through an unbiased and unsympathetic lens, laying everything bare and leaving its judgment to the audience.

Mikey is a particularly despicable and unlikable main character, yet his charm and charisma offset this, lulling us into a false sense of security. This creates a barrier, akin to the suspension of disbelief, that allows us to engage with his personality from a mild cushion of comfort. When Mikey inevitably shatters that comfort and those barriers crumble, the audience’s reactions become even more intense.

Even without delving into his relationships with his wife or Strawberry, it’s evident that Red Rocket excels as an impressive character study, showcasing Baker’s masterful exploration of morally complex figures.

3) The Florida Project (2017)

The magnum opus of Sean Baker’s career so far—and likely where many of us first heard about him. The Florida Project is Baker’s breakout film, focusing on the hidden homeless and the children living in budget motels as a substitute for permanent homes.

Featuring Willem Dafoe, Baker’s first collaboration with an A-list star, the film benefits greatly from Dafoe’s wonderfully soft-hearted portrayal of a surrogate father figure. It also boasts some of the best child performances you’ll ever see—especially in one unforgettable moment toward the end… my lord.

Baker continues to weave difficult and complex characters who, while often frustrating, are rendered with a slightly sympathetic yet objective lens, offering a profound outlook on their world. It’s a deeply researched and thoughtful film that balances its signature shouting matches and melodrama without compromising authenticity.

2) Take Out (2004)

Heavily inspired by the Dogme 95 movement, Sean Baker’s first and only directorial collaboration with Shih-Ching Tsou explores the life of delivery rider and undocumented Chinese immigrant Ming Ding, as he struggles to overcome an overwhelming smuggling debt. Spanning just a single day in Ming Ding’s life, the film fosters deep sympathy for his plight through the truly natural performance of Charles Jang. His sorrowful eyes and downtrodden body language, combined with the raw, naturalistic setting, immerse you completely in its reality.

Take Out feels like you’re truly an onlooker. Its unpolished aesthetic enables this, with the small camera seamlessly blurring the lines between documentary and fiction. What stands out most about Take Out is its sense of community and its focus on family—both biological and found. The workers at the takeaway restaurant squabble like siblings but ultimately support one another, embodying the heart and soul of their shared drive to succeed and provide.

The film offers a poignant exploration of the American Dream’s falsities and hardships, guiding us through every social class in residential Manhattan, from bottom to top. Politically relevant both then and now, this lesser-known gem deserves much greater recognition. I highly recommend picking up the Criterion Blu-ray, especially for its insightful special features.

1) Anora (2024) 

Could it be recency bias? Or is it genuinely that good? Anora could easily be one of the most talked-about films of the year, and I could give you an endless list of reasons why. This is where Sean Baker finally steps into mid-budget filmmaking, and he puts that extra funding to excellent use. He leans into his strengths while pushing the boundaries with a larger-than-life story.

The film may spark mixed reactions, but it’s the questions Anora provokes that make it so significant. My perspective shifted dramatically between my first and second viewings. During the first, a packed early screening at a film festival, I got swept away by the spectacle, laughing along with the audience—even when it didn’t always feel comfortable. 

The second time, however, was in a nearly empty theater after its release, with only six people present, and the discomfort leapt out of the screen.

I felt the full weight of Anora’s horror: she’s trapped in a situation she doesn’t want to be in, her truths unravel into lies, her trust is shattered, and she’s left with no choice but to follow the men around her. I’ve encountered many interpretations of the film, but one that struck me deeply was the notion of a potential “not all men” message. 

It made me question the filmmaker’s intentions. Were the laughs designed to heighten the discomfort? Or do they risk misleading viewers into missing the film’s deeper meaning—much like The Wolf of Wall Street? Anora is Sean Baker’s most thought-provoking film to date. That’s why it tops my list. It’s fresh, stunning, and impossible to ignore.