Anora 
Written and Directed by Sean Baker
Starring Mikey Madison, Mark Eidelstein, Yuriy Borisov, Vache Tovmasyan
Runtime 2 hours and 19 minutes
Rated R
In Theaters October 18

by Billie Anderson, Staff Writer

After The Florida Project (2017) was released, Sean Baker quickly became one of my favorite contemporary American filmmakers. There’s a unique sensitivity in his storytelling that draws me in—he shines a light on marginalized communities, championing those who have been overlooked by society as they fight to survive. Each of his films feels like a magnifying glass on characters who rarely make it to the big screen, and he captures both their resilience and their imperfections. Take Tangerine (2015), a buddy comedy about trans sex workers, shot entirely on iPhones in the bustling streets of LA. The Florida Project paints a vivid picture of America’s precariously housed through the eyes of a single mother and her six-year-old daughter living in a budget motel just outside Disney World. And with Red Rocket (2021), Baker took an intriguing turn, amplifying the narrative to match the larger-than-life delusions of a washed-up porn star. It’s a departure from his usual style, yet it still feels unmistakably Baker. When we talk about American classics—both now and in the future—his name absolutely deserves to be part of the conversation.

Anora continues Baker's trend of scaling things up. It's a propulsive, crowd-pleasing experience that captivates from start to finish. Among the films that premiered at TIFF this year, it stands out as one of my favorites, one that I hope garners the same amount of attention that it did at Cannes and TIFF when it enters public access. 

The titular character, Anora—who prefers to be called "Ani" (played by Mikey Madison)—is an exotic dancer and part-time escort working in a bustling New York strip club. Ani is not just any dancer; she’s exceptionally skilled at her job. Sparkling with confidence and quick-witted, she has an uncanny ability to read her clients the moment they walk in, making them feel at ease with her charm and poise. Her fluency in Russian gives her a distinct advantage, especially when she’s tasked with entertaining a new VIP, Ivan (Mark Eidelstein). Known as “Vanya,” he is a 21-year-old high-roller and the son of a powerful Russian oligarch. Vanya spends his days in his lavish Brighton Beach mansion, indulging in a lifestyle reminiscent of a wealthy, carefree college student. He throws extravagant parties, immerses himself in video games, and engages in fleeting encounters—all fueled by cash and a sense of entitlement.

Eidelstein's portrayal of Vanya is nothing short of remarkable. He captures the character's youthful immaturity and charm with a level of authenticity I haven’t seen before. His performance is both funny and insightful, illustrating the excesses and recklessness of a 21-year-old with wealth at his disposal. Eidelstein embodies a unique brand of stunted adolescence that can be endearing, like a playful puppy, or profoundly frustrating, depending on Ani’s mood and, by extension, the audiences’ as well. Perhaps the most crowd pleasing scene was when he did a backwards somersault into bed after Ani asks if he wants to have sex. This duality adds depth to his character, making Vanya both relatable and exasperating as he navigates his privileged life without a care in the world. Together, Ani and Vanya create a dynamic that kept me locked in for the entire runtime of the film. Without Eidelstein and Madison, I’m not sure this film would be the success that it is. 

From the moment Vanya lays eyes on Ani during her first dance, he is utterly enchanted. He reacts to her warm, engaging demeanor like a child receiving stickers for potty training—giddy and full of excitement, eager to embrace everything she offers. What begins as a simple arrangement in a private room quickly escalates into something much more expansive. Before long, their connection evolves from a night spent at his lavish home to a weeklong, all-inclusive "girlfriend experience," culminating in an impulsive trip to Las Vegas. When they return to New York just a day or two later, they no longer come back as client and escort, but as husband and wife—a turn of events that leaves Vanya’s parents less than pleased, starting off a whirlwind cat-and-mouse chase to pin them down and force them into an annulment. 

In many ways, Anora feels familiar for Baker, as he exposes audiences to the life of a protagonist who would typically remain a side character in mainstream cinema. However, what sets this film apart is Ani’s inherent charm—where Baker's past characters have often carried an abrasive edge, sometimes bordering on monstrous (as seen in Red Rocket), Ani is a sheer delight to root for from start to finish. Even when she makes mistakes, she manages to win us over. Moreover, it’s difficult to fault the other characters for their choices. In an era where online discourse about morally ambiguous characters is at an all-time high—when audiences often express frustration over narratives lacking a character to root for—Anora offers a refreshing twist. There are no true antagonists here, allowing viewers to immerse themselves in a story that highlights humanity amidst conflict. 

Despite every rational instinct urging me to view the decisions made by the characters under 25 as reckless, I found myself utterly charmed—much like I would be by a classic rom-com. When external forces threaten Ani’s fairytale love story, I felt her perspective deeply. The crisis, instigated by Vanya’s joyless parents who fail to grasp matters of the heart, felt like an attack on something beautiful that needed protection, despite its recklessness and absurdity. Ani’s optimism became my own. This infectious optimism makes Anora Baker’s most accessible film by far. I know “accessible” might seem like an unexpected term for an intensely R-rated story centered on a sex worker trying to maintain her marriage to a frivolous playboy-manchild, but it truly captures the essence of the film.

Despite Eidelstein’s killer portrayal of Vanya, the film truly belongs to Madison, who embodies the character of Anora with such effortless grace that you might think Baker stumbled upon her on the Vegas strip, persuading her to join his film instead of proceeding with her own life. Madison's performance is nothing short of phenomenal; she carries nearly every frame of Anora with remarkable self-assurance, imbuing her character with a vibrancy that makes even the most problematic dialogue resonate as if it were Shakespearean prose. Her ability to convey a wide range of emotions—frustration, vulnerability, and determination—anchors the film, making it not only compelling but also relatable. Madison's portrayal is essential for the tightrope Baker's script navigates, balancing humor with themes of privilege or self-discovery. In her hands, Anora becomes a character we can’t help but root for, and it's her magnetic presence that transforms the film into a memorable experience. Without her, the delicate interplay of relationships and the emotional stakes at play would likely falter, but with her, the film soars.

While this film presents itself primarily as a comedy, the tonal shift in the last few minutes lingers long after the credits roll. This shift not only heightens the emotional stakes but also makes the film hit harder, reminding us that these characters are human, not just vehicles for Baker’s creation. At this year's TIFF, I couldn’t help but notice a recurring theme: the yearning for a reset button. Characters across various films seem to be searching for a life raft—some elusive anchor that promises transformation and escape from the mundane. In this narrative, Bird’s Bailey seeks solace in a free-spirited stranger, while Elisabeth from The Substance chases a hollow rebirth. Then there's Laszlo Toth from The Brutalist, wrestling with the American Dream itself. But it’s Vanya’s offer to Ani that strikes a chord here: the tantalizing hope of a life where she can finally shed the need to bend her behavior to please those who wield power. Instead, she yearns to navigate this social world on her own terms, demanding respect rather than compliance. This shift resonated with me more than I was anticipating. When Baker masterfully pulls back the curtain, transforming subtext into powerful dialogue that left me in tears—so much so that I found myself sobbing in a bathroom stall between screenings. It’s a grace note that continues to haunt me, a testament to the film’s emotional weight. This isn’t just a story of laughter and light; it’s a poignant exploration of dreams, identity, and the relentless pursuit of respect. In a world that often prioritizes the superficial, this film reminds us of the profound connections we seek and the lengths we’ll go to find our place in it.

Anora is an extraordinary film that delivers on every front. It’s incredibly entertaining, genuinely hilarious, intellectually stimulating, and deeply moving. I was completely enchanted, which surprised me even with the reviews coming from Cannes. I worry that with the description of this film sounding so serious, it will be one that people take too seriously—Baker has crafted a fun narrative that thrives on its wit and humor. The comedic moments are not just light-hearted; they serve as a vehicle for deeper themes, inviting the audience to laugh while also prompting reflection. The film balances levity with poignant moments: it’s a testament to Baker's skill that he can tackle significant issues without sacrificing the joy and vibrancy of the storytelling.

Make it a priority to see Anora in theaters—this is a film that thrives on the communal experience of watching it with others. The laughter, the gasps, the shared moments of understanding that I experienced at TIFF will, I’m sure, enhance your appreciation for what Baker has created. I’m sure we’ll be discussing this film long past awards season.