
Winner of the Palme d’Or at Cannes and five Academy Awards in 2025, Sean Baker’s film deconstructs the myth of the modern Cinderella through the story of a stripper and a Russian oligarch. A critical triumph, yet a source of controversy.
With Anora, Sean Baker delivers a film that blends drama and social satire. Crowned at Cannes and later at the 2025 Academy Awards—where it won five Oscars, including Best Picture and Best Actress for Mikey Madison—this feature has nonetheless divided critics. Through the story of Ani, a stripper who marries a Russian oligarch, Baker revisits the Pretty Woman myth through the lens of contemporary inequality. But did this work truly deserve such accolades?
Since Tangerine (2015) and The Florida Project (2017), Sean Baker has established himself as a key figure in American independent cinema. His sharp eye for society’s overlooked communities and his ability to blend comedy with social critique set him apart as a distinctive filmmaker. With Anora, he goes even further in exposing the illusion of the American dream, tackling head-on the objectification of the body, the grip of capitalism, and power dynamics in intimate relationships.
Baker also stands out for his commitment to realism: he often works with non-professional actors and favors natural settings. This approach, a key strength of The Florida Project, finds particular resonance here in the portrayal of Brooklyn and its nightclubs, where Ani works before meeting the oligarch Vanya.
However, unlike his previous works, where he allowed space for poetry and tenderness, Anora adopts a more direct, cynical tone. Baker does not attempt to soften his message, delivering a biting satire, which may explain the mixed reviews it has received.
The film’s standout feature is Mikey Madison’s performance. Recognized for her role in Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, she delivers a striking portrayal of Ani, a character who is both free and vulnerable, naïve and manipulative. The actress captures this duality with rare precision. Her gaze, shifting between hope and disillusionment, carries the narrative. She creates a heroine who refuses to be defined by her profession, yet remains trapped in a world where money and power set the rules. Her performance, universally praised, impresses with its depth, despite the film’s many shortcomings.
The Film’s Drawbacks
Although Anora has received praise, it has also faced its share of criticism. One recurring issue is its excessive length. While Baker has always favored a slower pace, certain scenes in this film feel unnecessarily stretched, a flaw already present in Red Rocket, but more pronounced here. Another issue is the lack of emotional resonance. Despite the strength of its lead performance, the film struggles to establish a genuine connection with its audience. Whereas The Florida Project masterfully combined social commentary with warmth, Anora feels colder and more detached. Finally, the screenplay suffers from a lack of unpredictability. The concept of deconstructing Pretty Woman is intriguing, but the plot often follows familiar patterns and at times lacks the subtlety necessary to elevate it. The contrast between Ani and the world of Russian oligarchs would have benefitted from a more nuanced approach.
Nevertheless, Anora leaves a lasting impression with its final scene. Ani, in a car, breaks down in tears as the rain falls and the windshield wipers move across the glass. This moment of rare intensity has sparked various interpretations. Some see it as an emotional release, the climax of Ani’s journey. After trying everything to escape her fate, she is confronted with herself, defeated yet clear-eyed. Others view it as a representation of her continued confinement. Despite her efforts, she remains caught in a world where she hasn’t been able to fully break free. Her dream of emancipation shattered, she is overtaken by the harsh realities of capitalism and patriarchy. This conclusion, both visually and emotionally powerful, partially elevates an otherwise uneven work.
Anora vs Pretty Woman
The comparison between these two films is almost inevitable. Both share a similar premise—a woman in a precarious situation meeting a wealthy man—but draw starkly contrasting conclusions. Pretty Woman presents a fairytale where love transcends social boundaries, offering an idealized vision of romance. Meanwhile, Anora deconstructs that very ideal. Ani does not find a charming prince but instead encounters a cynical world where everything has a price. Her relationship with Vanya is less about romance and more about transactional exchange. The tonal shift is significant: while Pretty Woman romanticizes sex work, Anora lays bare its precariousness, exploitation, and brutality.
This contrast becomes even more pronounced in their respective conclusions. Pretty Woman culminates in the image of Richard Gere, bouquet in hand, climbing a fire escape to rescue Julia Roberts, embodying the fairytale ending. In contrast, Anora closes on a note of solitude and tears, a stark reminder that reality is often far more unforgiving than the idealized fictions we are fed.
Did Anora truly deserve the Oscar for Best Picture? The question remains disputed. Artistically, Baker delivers an ambitious film, underpinned by meticulous direction and an outstanding performance from its lead actress. Its boldness and critical perspective make it a compelling statement. However, its pacing issues, emotional detachment, and occasionally predictable storyline rank it below other contemporary masterpieces. Could the film have been awarded more for its symbolic value—representing independent cinema's resistance to mainstream trends—rather than its inherent qualities?
While Anora is distinguished by its radical approach, it lacks the aspirational quality of films like Pretty Woman, which embodies the modern fairytale. Instead, Anora leaves a distinctly bitter aftertaste. It is, undoubtedly, a significant work, but does it justify its Oscar? That is debatable.
Comments