Anora: A Gritty Cinderella Tale with Electric Chemistry

The opening scene of Sean Baker‘s Anora is a masterclass in juxtaposition: Ani, played with electric charisma by Mikey Madison, struts across a neon-lit stage in her lap-dancing routine, the bass thumping like a heartbeat. The camera lingers on her confident stride, capturing the way she commands the space, even as the patrons’ gazes weigh heavily upon her. It’s a moment that sets the tone for this screwball Cinderella tale—a film that balances grit and glamour with effortless panache.

Baker, known for his raw, character-driven dramas like The Florida Project and Tangerine, takes a sharp turn into rom-com territory here, but Anora never feels out of his wheelhouse. The film’s strength lies in its ability to blend the absurd with the authentic. Madison’s performance is a standout, grounding the film’s more outlandish moments with a palpable sense of vulnerability and tenacity. Her Ani is a complex mix of resilience and longing, a woman who has learned to navigate the world on her own terms but isn’t afraid to dream bigger.

The chemistry between Madison and Mark Eydelshteyn’s Ivan is electric, their whirlwind romance oscillating between swoon-worthy and surreal. Their first meeting at a New Year’s Eve party is a whirl of glitter and champagne, the camera darting between them as they lock eyes across a crowded room. Baker captures the frenetic energy of young love with a visceral immediacy, making their impulsive elopement in Las Vegas feel both thrilling and inevitable.

The supporting cast adds layers of dark comedy that keep the film from tipping into melodrama. Yura Borisov as Igor and Karren Karagulian as Toros are particularly noteworthy, their henchmen roles infused with a dry wit that contrasts sharply with the film’s more serious themes. The tension between Ani and Ivan’s oligarch family is a goldmine for Baker’s signature social commentary, offering a scathing critique of wealth and power dynamics without sacrificing the film’s comedic edge.

However, Anora isn’t without its falters. The pacing stumbles slightly in the second act, as the narrative juggles multiple subplots involving Ivan’s friends and family. While these threads add depth to the world Baker is building, they occasionally distract from the central love story. Additionally, some of the darker themes—particularly those surrounding Ani’s past as a sex worker—are handled with a lighter touch than one might expect. A scene where Toros offers Ani $10,000 for an annulment is tense but could have delved deeper into the emotional toll such a transaction would take.

That said, Anora is a visually stunning film. Baker’s use of color and lighting transforms New York City into a character unto itself. The neon glow of Brighton Beach contrasts sharply with the opulent interiors of Ivan’s mansion, highlighting the chasm between Ani’s world and the one she’s stepped into. The soundtrack—a mix of Russian folk music and contemporary beats—elevates key scenes with rhythmic precision. The Vegas sequence, in particular, is a standout, the neon glow and chaotic energy mirroring Ani and Ivan’s reckless romance.

The film’s themes are rich and multifaceted. At its core, Anora is a story about agency and autonomy, exploring the ways in which women navigate systems of power and privilege. Ani’s journey is one of self-discovery, as she grapples with the expectations placed upon her by society and the men in her life. The film also delves into the complexities of love and class, questioning the nature of genuine connection in a world where wealth and status often dictate the rules.

Comparisons to Baker’s earlier work are inevitable, but Anora carves out its own unique identity. While it shares the director’s signature focus on marginalized characters and his knack for finding beauty in the mundane, it also ventures into new territory with its blend of romance and comedy. The film is a testament to Baker’s versatility as a filmmaker, proving that he can tackle a wide range of genres while maintaining his distinctive voice.

Anora is a film that dares to be both heartfelt and hilarious, a rare gem that balances its tonal tightrope with grace. It’s a love letter to the underdog, a celebration of resilience, and a scathing critique of the systems that seek to control us.