A Cannes Palme d’Or winner that trades plot for character,
with Mikey Madison and a stellar ensemble stealing the spotlight
Writer/director Sean Baker’s Anora is a uniquely different film that stands apart for its commitment to character-driven storytelling over plot — a choice that earned it the prestigious Palme d’Or at the Cannes Film Festival. This isn’t your typical narrative arc with a tightly wrapped storyline; instead, Anora feels more like a deep dive into the quirks, flaws, and dynamics of its characters. It’s reminiscent of 1970s cinema in every way — right down to the grainy, naturalistic cinematography by Drew Daniels, the off-kilter pacing, and the meandering, “we’ll get there when we get there” storytelling. If you’re a fan of the era’s loose, almost rambling style, this film might just hit the mark.
Russian-American Ani (short for Anora), a young sex worker from Brooklyn, gets her chance at a Cinderella story when she meets and impulsively marries the son of an oligarch. Once the news reaches Russia, her fairytale is threatened as the parents set out for New York to get the marriage annulled.
Mikey Madison as Anora
The standout here is Mikey Madison in the title role. Madison puts in what can only be described as a career-defining performance as Anora, a character who is both prickly and endearing, a combination that Madison balances with impressive nuance. There’s a particular scene midway through the film where she silently expresses a mix of resignation and self-realization in a single look, and it’s moments like these that make her a shoo-in for a Best Actress nod. Madison’s performance is nothing short of magnetic, and she single-handedly keeps the film from veering too far off course during its slower, more wandering segments.
Yura Borisov as Igor
But Anora isn’t just a one-woman show. Madison’s performance is elevated by an ensemble that works together as a kind of carefully chaotic symphony. Supporting players Mark Eidelshtein, Karren Karagulian, Vache Tovmasyan, and Yura Borisov contribute layers of complexity to the film, bringing a vividness to each of their characters that makes the ensemble shine. The film taps into a strange yet engaging screwball comedy energy, particularly in the first act and parts of the second, where characters collide in witty, fast-paced exchanges that feel both scripted and spontaneous. There’s an almost madcap charm to their performances as they bounce off each other, creating a chemistry that feels refreshingly organic. The energy they bring keeps the viewer invested, even as the plot sometimes loses momentum.
Throughout the film, the ensemble cast manages a finely tuned balancing act. Each actor brings something distinct, yet they all share a tonal alignment that adds up to more than the sum of its parts. This harmony within the cast holds Anora together, especially in scenes that veer into screwball territory, where rapid-fire dialogue and miscommunications build to moments of genuine comedic tension.
However, Anora isn’t without its flaws. The second half of the second act begins to meander, testing even the most patient viewers as it searches for a resolution. The film could easily have lost 20 minutes without sacrificing any of its impact; in fact, the added brevity might have sharpened its focus. These pacing issues risk alienating audiences, but for those who are willing to go along for the ride, the performances themselves make it worth it.
Ultimately, Anora is a film about performance, both in the literal sense of the actors on screen and the metaphorical sense of the characters within the story performing for each other and for themselves. It’s an exploration of identity, insecurity, and self-worth, brought to life by a cast firing on all cylinders. The Cannes win speaks to the film’s artful ambition, and while its length and pacing missteps might hold it back from greatness, there’s something undeniably captivating about watching these actors work within this quirky, character-driven framework. If nothing else, Anora proves that sometimes, a well-crafted ensemble and a fearless lead performance are all you need to make a film linger in the mind long after the credits roll.
stills © NEON
Anora
Cre Film | FilmNation Entertainment
2024 | 139 minutes | rated R
in wide release October 24, 2024
