Anora Review: Mikey Madison’s Latest Movie Reimagines a Classic Tale with Depth and Grit

At the heart of Sean Baker’s newest film, Anora is Ani—a woman who abandoned her birth name, “Anora,” for reasons left intriguingly ambiguous. Played by Mikey Madison (Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, Better Things), Ani works at Headquarters, a sprawling, multi-level strip club bathed in pink neon and shrouded in secrecy. The venue’s labyrinthine hallways and garish wallpaper set the tone for a world steeped in erotic allure and calculated detachment.

Ani flits between clients, sucking on her vape while striking a careful balance between comforting and enticing them. Her ultimate aim: to guide them into private rooms, where the performances become more personal and lucrative. Hustling is Ani’s lifeblood, but as the story unfolds, the question becomes whether she’s hustling her clients—or being hustled herself.

Mikey Madison’s Captivating Transformation as Ani

Mikey Madison delivers a career-defining performance as Ani, an abrasive yet endearing protagonist navigating the complexities of survival and self-preservation. Ani’s Brooklyn accent emerges in bursts of profane wit and colloquialisms, reflecting both her upbringing and her generational vernacular. Whether she’s trading barbs with coworkers or struggling through tense moments of vulnerability, Ani comes across as both maddening and magnetic—the kind of loud, messy friend you can’t help but root for.

Baker’s direction gives Madison the space to fully inhabit Ani, showcasing her rough edges while hinting at the sensitivity buried beneath her hardened exterior. The film’s tonal balance rests squarely on this duality, which Madison plays with disarming authenticity. Ani’s hardened exterior doesn’t preclude moments of startling tenderness, and the audience is left to wonder whether these glimpses of vulnerability are calculated or genuine—a tension Madison navigates masterfully.

A Chance Encounter That Changes Everything

Ani’s world shifts when the club’s proprietor selects her for a high-rolling guest: Ivan “Vanya” Zakharov (Mark Eydelshteyn), the son of a Russian oligarch. With his entourage in tow, Vanya is a caricature of unchecked privilege—lanky, immature, and utterly oblivious to the value of money or human connection. Despite her rusty Russian and his halting English, Ani and Vanya share a mutual language: cash.

Vanya’s childish antics lead to a private dance, where he lavishes Ani with cash and a clumsy flirtation. Their initial interaction sets the stage for a transactional yet emotionally charged relationship that quickly moves beyond the confines of the club. As Ani becomes a fixture in Vanya’s extravagant Brighton Beach estate, the transactional nature of their bond starts to blur.

The Illusion of Escape and the Price of Dreams

Baker’s narrative gains momentum when Ani agrees to an impromptu Las Vegas trip funded by Vanya. The whirlwind transition from Vanya’s sprawling compound to the neon-drenched Vegas strip reflects Baker’s penchant for blending hyper-realism with dreamlike escapism. For Ani, a woman accustomed to scraping by in a cramped apartment, the sudden plunge into luxury is intoxicating.

Yet beneath the glitz, Baker subtly threads a sense of foreboding. Vanya’s impulsiveness—whether proposing marriage or flaunting wealth—feels increasingly precarious. The dream teeters on the edge of collapse, a reality underscored by Vanya’s billionaire father, whose shadow looms large over their escapades.

Sean Baker’s Genre-Bending Masterpiece

Anora is a testament to Sean Baker’s ability to fuse genres and challenge cinematic conventions. Known for his raw portrayals of sex work in films like Tangerine and The Florida Project, Baker takes his vision a step further here. The film oscillates between a screwball romantic comedy in the vein of Preston Sturges and the gritty, anxiety-inducing aesthetic of the Safdie Brothers’ Uncut Gems.

The tonal shifts—at once exhilarating and jarring—mirror Ani’s own journey. The film’s Cinderella-like arc, complete with glittery heels and fleeting fantasies, is subverted at every turn. Midnight looms over Ani’s fairy tale, and Baker ensures that the audience feels the weight of its inevitability.

A Story of Commerce, Love, and Brutal Realism

Through its vivid storytelling and rich character dynamics, Anora explores the interplay between commerce and affection. Baker presents Ani and Vanya’s relationship as both deeply transactional and painfully human. Ani is acutely aware of the performance she’s giving, yet the emotional undercurrents can’t be ignored.

Baker doesn’t shy away from showing the darker sides of his characters. Ani’s complicity in the casual exploitation of others—from ignoring a housekeeper’s struggles to indulging Vanya’s cruel jokes—reveals layers of moral ambiguity. The film doesn’t ask viewers to love or hate its characters but rather to observe and empathize with their flawed humanity.

Visual and Thematic Brilliance

The film’s aesthetic is as layered as its narrative. Baker’s use of music video-style montages and thumping pop tracks creates an air of unreality, heightening the story’s dreamlike quality. Yet the gritty details—a train roaring past Ani’s bedroom window, the oppressive grandeur of Vanya’s estate—ground the film in stark realism.

The juxtaposition of Ani’s fleeting moments of joy against the crushing weight of reality creates a haunting portrait of aspiration and disillusionment. Baker’s refusal to offer easy resolutions or moral judgments adds depth to the film’s thematic exploration.

Conclusion: A Modern Fairy Tale with a Dark Edge

Anora is more than a Cinderella story—it’s a sharp, empathetic exploration of ambition, love, and the compromises we make to survive. Mikey Madison’s nuanced performance anchors the film, while Sean Baker’s fearless storytelling pushes boundaries, delivering a movie that’s as visually stunning as it is emotionally complex.

In Anora, dreams don’t just die; they unravel, leaving the audience to grapple with the messy, beautiful, and painful reality of what comes after midnight.

Source: CBR