Anora: A Dream Just Out of Reach
Anora (2025)
Directed by Sean Baker
Starring Mikey Madison, Vanya Zakharov, and Yura Borisov
You can sense the impending doom from the start. This anticipation creates a powerful tragedy, making it all the more heartbreaking. It’s like a train speeding toward a cliff with malfunctioning brakes—the disaster is inevitable. Every decision Anora makes reinforces this fate. From the very beginning, her path seems sealed.
Sean Baker’s Palme d’Or-winning Anora explores the swift and costly romance between the titular character and a wealthy Russian youth, along with the unavoidable consequences of their affair. It’s a narrative that delves into class and cultural divides—a story of dreams shattered by the almighty dollar. It’s a profoundly tragic tale, told with skill, but does it deserve the title of Best Picture?
I won’t dwell too much on this here, but how do we define best? Is Best Picture the film that most effectively conveys the language of cinema? Is it the finest story told through film? Or should it encompass both? Personally, I believe both are essential, but if I must choose, I’ll opt for mastery of cinematic language.
Does Baker communicate fluently in the language of cinema? Or is he like Anora speaking Russian—familiar with it but struggling to express himself clearly and competently?
Three scenes illustrate this issue. One features an intimate moment between Anora and the Russian heir, Ivan. She reclines on a plush bed in a high-rise suite, city lights outside the window blurring into a bouquet of blue petals—a technique that heightens the scene’s intimacy. Another scene captures Anora and Ivan walking through a Vegas mall post-nuptials. The handheld camera follows them fluidly, angling upward as they beam beneath a fireworks display on the LCD ceiling. This moment is iconic and deserves to be the film’s thumbnail.
While I could delve into technical details (and I could easily look them up), I don’t need to know the lens name to appreciate its impact. One particular shot articulates Baker’s cinematic fluency, showcasing his skill and expressiveness. In this frame, Anora stands at the center, her back to the camera, separated from the outside world by thick panes of glass. She gazes in awe at the view—success, wealth, security—no more struggles. Yet, the edges of the image are subtly distorted, suggesting that this vision is merely a mirage, that fairy tales don’t come true for a woman of her profession. The distortion conveys this tragic reality; it expresses it. For Anora, the dream is unattainable—perhaps not even real.
Yet, she is a fighter. Mikey Madison’s portrayal brings Anora’s warrior spirit to life. She was perfectly cast as a modern (and more accurate) version of Julia Roberts’ character in Pretty Woman. It’s heartbreaking to see her selling herself to strangers—she embodies the tragedy of her situation, making you root for her to find a better life. She is unmistakably a New Yorker. Her warmth can turn on a dime into fierce aggression and sassy wordplay. Anora is admirable for her fearlessness in speaking her mind and standing up for herself. But Madison’s performance shines brightest when her tough exterior crumbles, revealing the grief of a dream slipping away, the vision of a better life becoming too distorted to pursue. She captures these emotional transitions with great skill and undoubtedly deserves recognition.
However, the supporting character, Igor, truly makes the film. Played by Russian actor Yura Borisov, he defines what it means to be a supporting actor. Without him, the film would struggle to hold itself together. His role starts modestly in the second act but becomes unexpectedly vital in the third. Even when he’s in the background, his expressive face conveys exactly what the audience is feeling as they watch Anora’s struggles. No matter how fiercely she fights, Igor sees all too well where her life is headed. Borisov deserves every accolade. While I’m inclined to support Guy Pearce for the Oscar, I’m secretly hoping Yura wins. Anora wouldn’t work without him.
The challenge with this film’s cinematic language lies in its digital format. Can digital truly capture the essence of cinema? The short answer is yes—but how effectively? While Anora’s visuals are compelling, they sometimes feel flat. Digital cameras improve every year, yet they still can’t match the richness of 70mm film. And maybe they never will.
I know, I know—I need to watch The Florida Project and Tangerine. Trust me, I intend to. Sean Baker is a talented storyteller and filmmaker. With his Palme d’Or win, even more opportunities are sure to come his way, and I’m curious to see what he does next. Anora may not reach cinematic perfection, but Baker—thriving in a career he clearly loves—is living a dream come true.