Anora is unsettling. In the film directed by Sean Baker, Anora (Mikey Madison), who prefers to go by Ani, is a sex worker who is swept off her feet by mysterious Russian nepo-baby Ivan (Mark Eydelshteyn). Their relationship is a fast burn underscored by the transactional nature of their interactions, and is so overwhelming in its portrayal as an endless crash of hedonistic scenes. When Ivan offers Ani $15,000 to be his girlfriend for the week, she gladly takes the offer, and they party from clubs to Vegas where the two elope on a whim.
Their idyllic romance is halted in its tracks when three henchmen (hired by Ivan’s parents) go to force the two to annul the marriage. Ivan runs, leaving Ani to deal with the consequences. There is a short fight scene that is caught somewhere between comedic and unsettling, the latter mostly being in the casual violence against Anora as she is physically restrained, bound, and gagged.
Their romance is so jarring. Ivan thinks nothing more of how transactional his life is, from how he pays Ani to be his girlfriend to the way he treats his house staff to going to Vegas simply because he hears they have the best ketamine. Further, you never really know how much Ani is herself. From the moment she is introduced in the gaudy haze of the stripclub, she is very obviously putting on a performance. Even when she meets Ivan and during their romance, she dons the persona Ivan met in the stripclub. We don’t even find out Ani’s real name is Anora until after the henchmen break into Ivan’s house.
Anora’s fashion too underscores this. At the start, we see her in sexy, revealing outfits as part of the persona of her job. Even during the wedding, she is wearing a bodycon dress. This is flipped when the chase segment comes, with Anora increasingly wearing more layers. Anora is so exposed in those first scenes we see her in, but we know for sure she is adopting a persona. Where does this persona exist in her? Where does she fall in this persona? There is no neat division. The persona is a part of her; she herself doesn’t quite know if there is a separation at all. At the end, her pursuit of Igor, one of the henchmen, flits between being uncomfortably resemblant of Anora’s sex work and tender and romantic because Igor tries to view her as more than just an idea of romance or sex.
One of the most obvious messages of Anora is its critique of capitalism. Anora is just a pawn in the ridiculous schemes of the ultra-wealthy. At the end of the day, their lives are unaffected, while hers has been changed over and over and over. Further, Ivan can just run away from all the problems he caused while the rest of the four — including Anora — cannot run from the problems he caused.
In fact, all of the four characters in the chase segment depict this sentiment as well, struggling to exist outside the transactional nature of their job, as they search endlessly for Ivan while he throws a tantrum with flagrant disregard for everyone around him. Still, they too treat Anora as a simple pawn in her schemes (with one offering her $10,000 in exchange for the mess that this has caused). Anora’s agency is never really there from beginning to end.
Then, there’s Igor. Igor (Yura Borisov) is one of the henchmen hired by Ivan’s parents. Igor brings the violence to disagreements — he subdues Anora, ties her up and gags her so she stops screaming, and then is also the one to break all the glass in a candy store when they cannot find Ivan there. Yet, Igor gets much more sympathetic as the movie progresses. His small gestures of kindness toward Anora are hilariously awkward, for example when he offers her the scarf he used to gag her with to keep her warm. But there truly is a disquieting tenderness between them, as Igor and Anora are the only two left at the end to try and reconcile Anora’s life.
Anora‘s ending is the most forceful part of the movie’s unraveling. After the marriage has been annulled, Igor drives Anora back to her house with all her belongings. Right before she leaves, he offers her the wedding ring one of the henchmen took from her. The shot of Anora’s face here is haunting. Anora tries to have sex with Igor, who attempts to kiss her before she starts panicking and pushing him away. He hugs her instead. She bursts into tears, and the movie ends with Anora’s shaky breathing like a heartbeat as she cries in Igor’s arms.
The film always reminds you of the violent way that Anora and Igor met. There will always be a power imbalance between them as a result, and the final scene also seems to serve as a reminder that Anora can’t escape her role as a sex worker. For a moment, by Igor, maybe, she’s seen. But the abrupt ending, the unnerving tenderness point to a larger inability to escape the systems and structures that have pushed them into these roles. There is a solace, but the solace comes with a caveat.
Anora is still so desperate for the dream even when it becomes a nightmare. She affirms again and again that Ivan loves her, as if repeating it enough times could make it come true. Anora’s desperation for their relationship to be real made me want their relationship so badly to be real, too. It made me believe, for fleeting seconds at a time, that maybe Ivan did actually see her as a full human. And I think that is what strikes and unnerves me most about the film: its portrayal of how desperate we are for social connection. How we are so desperate for a dream, even when the cost is too great.
Pen Fang is a freshman in the College of Arts & Sciences. They can be reached at [email protected].