‘Anora’ review: Sean Baker’s twisted fairy tale of survival and chaos | Oscars 2025

Sean Baker’s 'Anora' is the kind of film that catches you off guard. What starts as a seemingly playful, darkly comedic fairy tale soon spirals into something far more intense, unpredictable, and strangely tender. At the heart of it all is Mikey Madison’s electric performance as Anora Mikheeva, a Brooklyn stripper who, thanks to a mix of impulsive choices and sheer dumb luck, ends up married to Vanya (Mark Eidelstein), the naive yet oddly charming son of a Russian oligarch. What unfolds next is a high-stakes battle of power, money, and sheer survival, all told with Baker’s signature rawness and near-documentary realism.

Right from the opening scene, 'Anora' throws you into Ani’s world—a gritty yet buzzing New York, where she’s constantly hustling, balancing stripping with babysitting gigs just to get by. Madison doesn’t overshadow Anora; she keeps her performance grounded and authentic. When you picture a New York stripper, a dozen stereotypes might come to mind, but Anora defies them all. She’s sharp, effortlessly cool, and refreshingly straightforward.

When Vanya wanders into the club one night, flashing his wealth and boyish enthusiasm, their chemistry is immediate, albeit built on shaky foundations. A few reckless choices, some alcohol-fueled spontaneity, and a Vegas wedding later, Ani finds herself in a situation she never could have predicted. Eidelstein brings a childlike quality to Vanya, making us wonder if he’s truly kind and naive or just oblivious and foolish.

What makes 'Anora' so effective is the way Baker keeps flipping expectations. What starts as a twisted Cinderella story quickly shifts into something far tenser, almost a thriller, when Vanya’s parents enter the picture. Enter Yuri and Olga Zakharov (played by Yuriy Borisov and Ksenia Rappoport), a billionaire power couple who will stop at nothing to wipe Ani from their son’s life. Baker doesn’t paint them as over-the-top villains; instead, he presents their wealth and power with a stark realism—the kind of quiet, calculated ruthlessness that makes them all the more terrifying. And yet, despite the film’s high-stakes drama, Baker never loses sight of the absurdity in it all. Whether it’s the painfully awkward interactions between Ani and the Zakharovs or the way events spiral into near-slapstick chaos, 'Anora' never forgets to have a dark sense of humour.

Visually, the film pulsates with the neon glow of late-night city streets, dimly lit clubs, and the cold, detached luxury of the ultra-rich. Baker’s handheld cinematography keeps things raw and immersive, pulling us into Ani’s world, making every nervous glance and unspoken moment hit just a little harder. The pacing is relentless but never overwhelming, giving us just enough space to breathe before plunging back into Ani’s ever-escalating reality.

And then comes the ending, the kind that sticks with you long after the credits roll. Without giving anything away, it feels both surprising and inevitable, making 'Anora' one of Baker’s most emotionally striking films yet. Baker weaves heart, humour, and harsh reality so naturally that it never feels forced or overdone.

'Anora' is a film that refuses to be boxed into any single genre, shifting seamlessly from dark comedy to high-stakes thriller without ever losing its emotional core. Baker crafts a world that feels both chaotic and authentic, where power and privilege clash with sheer will to survive. But at its heart, it is Ani’s story, one of resilience, sharp wit, and a determination to carve out her own fate, no matter how impossible the odds.