Review: Anora

Anora is a brilliantly executed dark screwball comedy with sharp writing, standout performances, and genuine laughs. Sean Baker continues his investigations into American subcultures and marginalized lives, this time focusing on Brighton Beach’s Russian‑speaking immigrant world. Here, he tells a modern Cinderella story — rough, unapologetic, and entirely his own.

Mikey Madison delivers a breakout performance as Ani (Anora), a Brooklyn exotic dancer whose life takes a dizzying turn when she marries Ivan, the dim-witted son of a Russian billionaire. Madison infuses Ani with toughness, wit, and surprising vulnerability — capturing both street savvy and emotional depth as she navigates a whirlwind romance and its brutal fallout. Her energy feels electric and real at every moment. Having had her breakout role in Tarantino's Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, Anora will no doubt see her catapulted to A-list stardom.

The ensemble cast — including Yura Borisov as the quietly empathetic Igor, and Karren Karagulian and Vache Tovmasyan as the hapless henchmen — bring necessary comedic propulsion. A jaw-dropping nearly 30‑minute single-take sequence of violent chaos at Ivan’s mansion serves as the film’s visceral, hilarious anchor — it’s smartly choreographed, deeply unsettling and wildly entertaining in equal measure.

Baker’s script is tight and darkly funny, filled with feral humor and incisive social commentary. The dialogue crackles—wrenching tension from wordplay, clashing cultural mores and raw class conflict. He plays wryly with stereotypes, flipping them into something unexpected and dangerous but never exploitative. The narrative moves deliberately fast and doesn’t linger in pain; it refuses the typical martyr narrative of sex‑worker cinema, preferring to treat her with complexity and agency even amid chaos.

Technically, Anora is filmic joy. Cinematographer Drew Daniels (shooting 35 mm anamorphic) and production designer Stephen Phelps render Brighton Beach glow, nocturnal cityscapes, and lavish interiors with vivid authenticity. Editing, done by Baker himself, propels energy relentlessly forward, keeping the tone finely balanced between lust, chaos, and eventual heartbreak.

In short, Anora is hard to fault. It’s a razor‑sharp, satirical, and fiercely funny film grounded in tangible reality. Baker once again elevates lives often ignored and gives them shape through exhilarating absurdity and emotional honesty. But be warned, it's maybe not a film to watch with your grandparents.