StubStack: Anora
Anora is one of the best films of the year.
You know how Apple Music or Spotify gives users a breakdown of their most-listened-to songs at the end of each year? Well, I feel confident that my most played of 2024 will be the club remix of Greatest Day by Take That. It’s featured prominently in Anora, and every time it played in the theater, I found myself movin' and groovin' in my seat. I actually went to see Anora twice, and that song is one of the reasons why.
Both the song and the film have stuck with me long since leaving the theater.
On its surface, Anora tells the story of Ani, a sex worker who prefers her nickname to her given name. She works at a strip club in the Brighton Beach neighborhood of New York City. One night, a young, wealthy, Russian patron named Ivan (aka Vanya) requests a Russian-speaking woman, and Ani, the only Russian speaker at the club, is assigned to him. The two meet, take a liking to each other, and we follow their whirlwind, roller coaster of a romance from there.
But there’s so much more bubbling beneath the surface of Anora. The film delves into the nature of sex work and reveals the humanity of its practitioners. It explores class dynamics—how people in different social strata treat those above and below them. It examines the transactional nature of relationships in today’s culture. It tackles the power imbalance between the wealthy and those less fortunate, and the way those with wealth, and power can control—and destroy—lives. It also touches on how we sometimes convince ourselves to believe something too good to be true is actually true, especially when we’re desperate for something good to happen in our lives. Similarly, how we convince ourselves that we’re in control even when we’re not. All of that barely scratches the surface of what Anora has to offer.
The film has a lot to say, and it slowly reveals its layers to the audience. I don’t want to share too much of my interpretation or spoil anything, but I do want to highlight one aspect of the film that I can’t stop thinking about: Mikey Madison’s performance.
She is impressively mesmerizing. Not only did she master the Brighton Beach accent with precision, but she also completely inhabited the role of a stripper. She convincingly delivers numerous lap dances, a sensual strip tease, and confidently works the pole—all of which show how much effort she put into making her performance feel authentic. (And just a heads-up: this is why you shouldn’t see Anora with family, lol.)
But Madison’s performance isn’t just impressive from a physical or vocal standpoint. She brings a range and depth to Ani that’s rarely afforded to characters like her. She’s able to convey a complex mix of emotions: excitement and joy, skepticism and hesitancy, confidence and courage, terror and fear, shame. She’s funny, cunning, calculating, and brash—unafraid to speak her mind. Her ability to bring all of these emotional layers to Ani is crucial to the success of the film. It’s a star-making performance, and it’s deservingly being discussed as such. Don’t be surprised if she gets an Oscar nomination—she could very well win it.
There’s so much more to praise about Anora. The supporting performances, though not as showy, are still expertly done. The film’s ability to switch tones seamlessly—from funny to dramatic, emotional to even frightening—is impressive. Anora will make you laugh, cry, and feel uneasy. The music is fantastic too; like I said, I was literally dancing in my seat.
There’s a lot more I could say about Anora, but it would be hard, if not impossible, to do so without spoiling the movie. It will almost certainly be in my top 10 films of the year, so I may write more about it in my "Best of 2024" roundup at the end of the year or the beginning of next.
In the meantime, I highly recommend you check out Anora in theaters!
If you’re interested in more in-depth thoughts about Anora, how it was made, and what it might be trying to say check out the following articles: