If the opening scene of Anora doesn’t get your blood moving one way or another, I have terrible news for you. You have died. … The silver lining is of course that even as a dead person, you’re still able to watch movies and read movie reviews. That opening shot, tracking across a line of guys getting lap dances, drops you right into the world of eponymous heroine, Anora, with no apologies. It’s made apparent quickly enough that for these working women, it’s just another day at the office. Except that in this career there is no 401(k), health insurance or paid time off. This is the world of men. If you don’t like it, there’s the door.
It’s within this milieu that Anora, who shares an apartment with her sister and brother-in-law, takes on escort work. Back at Headquarters strip club, as a Russian speaker, she’s assigned to entertain the son of a wealthy oligarch, who asks if he can see her outside of work. Here the so-called fun and games of the story ensue. And they do ensue, extending Act I almost uncomfortably. Has the director lost control of this story? — Or what you realize later. You’ve been wonderfully set up.
Act II takes you into the realm of comedy but with the real threat of violence underpinning every moment. It’s unnerving but you settle into it. The strength of Anora is that it simultaneously holds what could be an absurd Eastern European folktale within the bounds of a tangible New York City universe. Here, broken noses are felt. As our friend B., who’s an M.D., leaned over to give us a real-time diagnosis of one of the characters. The prognosis wasn’t good. The severity of the mounting symptoms meant that the other characters needed to rush the injured one to the ER. STAT.
And broken dreams are deeply felt as well. Disappointment is the millstone that’s anchored around every neck in Anora. And one apparent theme is that just because you wish something to be real, doesn’t mean it is.
There are a few outrageous and memorable scenes in Anora. The Coney Island tow truck scene stays with you. And the haunting final scene reveals the depth and complexities of the characters. Cutting to a silent credit sequence gives you no reprieve and invites reflection. A perfect antithesis to the chaotic euphoria of the opening shot.
It doesn’t surprise me that Director, Sean Baker, a kid from New Jersey, walked away with the Palm d’Or at Cannes for Anora. He has a track record of fearless filmmaking, expressing himself by any means at his disposal. In the character of Anora he found a kindred spirit.
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