What Is Love? Intimacy and Connection in “Anora”

WARNING: Contains spoilers

I finally watched Sean Baker’s amazing “Anora” yesterday, ahead of tonight’s Academy Awards ceremony, and as with every film of Baker’s, not only has it stayed with me, but I find myself liking and respecting it more the longer I think about it. For the first 40 minutes or so of the movie, I didn’t think I was going to like it much at all, because the first half of the movie feels pretty formulaic. Anora, who goes by “Ani,” is an exotic dancer who, because she speaks Russian, is assigned to entertain Ivan, the son of a Russian oligarch, at the strip club where she works. The two form a connection, and he asks to see her outside the club. She shows up at his mansion, they have transactional sex, and before you know it, she’s being invited to his lavish parties and then whisked off to Vegas to be his “extremely horny girlfriend for the week.” (The financial terms of this arrangement are discussed in what I thought must have been an intentional homage to “Pretty Woman”; however it seems Sean Baker didn’t intend it. Whether intentional or not, the similarity is impossible to overlook.)

The week in Vegas is a chaotic montage of Ivan and his entourage of hedonistic pals partying like only 20-somethings with access to unlimited funds can do. While Ani seems to be enjoying herself, to me this section of the movie felt exhausting. I kept wondering if that’s just because I’m in my 40s and going on multi-day benders doesn’t sound appealing anymore. But it’s also pretty telling that whenever Ani and Ivan are alone, they’re having sex, doing drugs, or playing video games. Despite being physically intimate, they don’t really know each other.

Ani’s job as a sex worker is to simulate intimacy. She tells Ivan, in the private room at the strip club, that she’s not allowed to take her thong off but she does because “I really like you.” (She has him sit on his hands first, which implies she’s done this before and has the routine down.) In her line of work, making the client feel special and desired leads to good tips. But she’s uncomfortable sharing her true self. She doesn’t like speaking Russian because it reminds her of her roots—her immigrant grandmother never learned to speak English. She goes by “Ani” instead of “Anora,” correcting people who use her full name. She seems to be most comfortable when she’s putting on a performance.

While in Vegas, Ivan suggests they marry so that he can stay in America instead of going back to Russia. Ani scoffs at first but he quickly convinces her that he’s serious, and they get hitched. When they return to Ivan’s mansion, the movie takes a dramatic turn, and things start to get really interesting. The rom-com Cinderella-story portion of the film is over, and suddenly we’re in a totally different type of movie, an action caper of sorts that’s more reminiscent of “Midnight Run” than “Pretty Woman.” This is when we meet Igor, one of the Armenian bodyguards hired by Ivan’s godfather to force the couple to get an annulment. Igor tries to physically restrain Ani, who fights like a wild animal, completely trashing the living room and screaming profanities at the top of her lungs. But unlike a typical movie goon, he doesn’t actually inflict any violence on her. One of my favorite parts is when he yells “Please. Stop. Screaming!” into her shrieking face. He’s clearly at his wit’s end as to how to get her under control.

Finally, the men manage to subdue Ani and they all go to look for Ivan, who ran away from the house the moment he heard his parents were coming from Russia to collect him. As they visit various friends and places of business where he might be, Baker repeatedly frames Igor and Ani in a way that lets you know Igor is interested in, and concerned for, Ani. We also see Igor do small acts of kindness toward Ani, passing her a glass of water, lighting two cigarettes and handing her one, covering her up when she’s sleeping. His attraction is unspoken; it’s all done—beautifully—through the language of film. But it plants the seeds of a potential romance that would have a very different dynamic from the one that Ani has with Ivan. Later, Igor confides to Ani that the day of the ambush was his 30^th birthday. We get the feeling that he, too, is a performer, lacking anyone in his life that truly knows or values him. He then tells her he likes “Anora” better than “Ani.” He looks up the meaning of her name online and starts to share it with her, but she shuts him down. She’s not ready to drop her defenses.

At the end of the movie, the marriage has been annulled, Ani has collected her payoff, and Igor takes her home. He carries her bags up the steps for her, and then surprises her by returning the diamond ring Ivan had given her—the symbol of her marriage’s legitimacy—that had been pocketed by the bodyguards back at the mansion. It’s tangible proof that her experience was real, not just a dream. She’s filled with gratitude, and even though she’s done nothing but berate and insult Igor up to this point, she slips seamlessly back into her persona of a performer of intimacy. She sidles over to him in the car, whips his seat back, and begins to have sex with him. When he tries to kiss her, it’s his way of wanting to connect with the real her. She’s giving him Ani, but he wants Anora. But when he tries to kiss her, she becomes upset, pounding on him with her fists before finally collapsing on his chest in a torrent of tears. He holds her wordlessly, and the film ends.

I’ve seen people commenting on YouTube reviews of “Anora” that they were disappointed with the ending. Some were irritated that Ivan’s parents interfered in the marriage and wished they could have seen him and Ani live happily ever after. Others wanted less ambiguity around whether Ani and Igor ultimately end up together. They saw the ending as heartbreaking rather than hopeful. I agree, it is heartbreaking in the sense that Ani’s certainly had her heart broken and her dreams dashed. But in life, heartbreak is not the end. It might feel like it for a time, but eventually we heal, grow, and move on. So, I don’t see the ending as hopeless. Maybe I would have when I was Ani’s age (23). But as an old married lady approaching my fifties, I have a different perspective.

I mentioned “Midnight Run” earlier, but the final scene reminded me more of another 1970s classic: “Saturday Night Fever.” It seemed to be communicating that these two individuals, whether or not they are destined for a romantic partnership, are better off for having known each other. They have shared a real, human connection with someone who might not be a good partner for them, but who is definitely a kindred spirit. And as someone who lives with depression and anxiety, I can’t emphasize enough what an incredible blessing it is to have someone willing to be a safe space for you to feel your feelings. Someone who will hold you while you cry your guts out, not judging you, trying to cheer you up, or trying to fix the problem, but just being there. What a gift. That, to me, is love. It’s true intimacy. I would rather have that, and the simple act of someone pouring me a glass of water, than all the mansions and parties in the world.

Thanks to these creators and their commenters whose thoughtful reviews and dialogue helped inspire me to write this piece: Susan Bordo, Broey Deschanel, Shanto.