Pretty Woman turns pretty shitty in Sean Baker’s gloriously nihilistic fairytale of New York.
Sean Baker’s Anora marks his latest foray into the lives of those on the periphery of society, a natural continuation of his fascination with the overlooked and underrepresented. This time, Baker’s lens shifts from the sun-soaked motels of Florida and the neon-lit streets of Los Angeles to the gritty, bustling boroughs of Brooklyn, weaving a cinderella story that’s heavy on sin, blending whimsy, raw humanity, and sharp social critique.
At the heart of Anora is Ani, portrayed with mesmerising authenticity by Mikey Madison. Madison’s performance is the bedrock of the film’s emotional core—equal parts defiant, hopeful, and heartbreakingly vulnerable – a genuinely starmaking turn. Ani, a young sex worker hardened by circumstance yet brimming with aspiration and atititude, finds herself in the eye of a whirlwind romance with Ivan “Vanya” Zakharov (played by newcomer Andrei Petrov), the son of a Russian oligarch whose familial politics make Succession look like a picnic.
Baker’s storytelling retains its characteristic sensitivity, infusing the harsh realities with savage humour and deep empathy in a way that feels neither exploitative nor forced. While the central plot, reminiscent of a post-modern nihilistic Pretty Woman, teeters on the edge of implausibility, Baker grounds it with intimate character moments and biting observations about power dynamics, privilege, and societal hypocrisy.
Anora’s success lies heavily in Baker’s ability to make the audience root for Ani and Vanya’s improbable union while simultaneously satirising everything that enables and threatens their love. There’s a deft balancing act here: the romantic elements, while playful and at times surreal, never wholly eclipse the harsh undertones of the narrative. This is not a fairy tale—it’s a tale about finding agency amid a maze of gilded cages and the choices one makes when an opportunity for freedom beckons.
Madison and Petrov spark up an intoxicating chemistry, capturing the heady rush of newfound infatuation and the subsequent turbulence with a sincerity that keeps even the film’s most outlandish twists grounded. The supporting cast brings energy and zany gravitas to the film’s exploration of its character’s complex lives. Karren Karagulian is marvellous as Toros, the long-suffering, world-weary handler tasked with the thankless job of looking out for Vanya on behalf of his powerful parents and whose life is thrown into chaos when he learns of Vanya’s impulsive marriage to Ani. Adding to Toros’ woes are Vache Tovmasyan as Garnick and Yura Borisov as Igor, a pair of well-meaning but inept henchmen whose attempts to manage the unfolding crisis only complicate matters further. Borisov, in particular, imbues Igor with an beguiling level of depth and complexity, as his time within the Zakharov family’s orbit reveals a unexpectedly strong moral core.
Technically, Anora stays true to Baker’s aesthetic ethos. The cinematography, courtesy of Drew Daniels, is unpolished and intimate, suffused with natural light and saturated hues that bring Brooklyn’s eclectic streets to life. The score, an unexpected blend of classical motifs and urban beats, underscores the film’s oscillation between romantic escapism and stark reality. However, not all of Baker’s gambits pay off in full. The third act—with its abrupt tonal shift towards melodrama—struggles to maintain the film’s delicate balance of comedic realpolitik and there’s a revelation of the true nature of one of the characters that, while eminently predictable, feels underplayed. Then again, the unevenness is part and parcel of Baker’s milieu, an embrace of life’s messy unpredictability that means the audience has to learn to cope with whatever the screen throws at them.
Anora is another brazenly bright and bold addition to Baker’s body of work, showcasing once again his unique cinematic voice. It challenges the audience to look beyond the rags to riches façade and question who really benefits from these modern fairy tales and the human lives they play with. Madison’s captivating portrayal ensures that Ani’s journey resonates long after the credits roll, leaving a bittersweet reminder that even in a world built on greed, conspicuous consumption and cold hard cash, genuine connection is the most valuable currency of all.
