Anora: Crazy Rich Asians but they’re not Asian and the guy sucks

I went back home to the Philippines over the summer. While there, I went bar hopping with some friends. One time, we were looking out the window at a club across the street. An old white man tried to enter and was approached by a Filipina woman. They eventually entered the club together, and I remember my friend joking that she was “working overtime to secure the bag.” We laughed; your friends’ jokes are always funny.

Picture this: a relatively normal girl and an absurdly rich guy fall in love, but their parents block the marriage—they don’t like the girl. The girl fights to be accepted by her lover’s family. Now, on paper this sounds a hell of a lot like Crazy Rich Asians, a film where “true love wins all.” But this isn’t Crazy Rich Asians. It’s a little more complicated than that.

I went into Sean Baker’s Anora pretty much blind. All I knew was that it starred Scream V’s Mikey Madison, won the Palme d’Or at Cannes, and I’d seen a few stray headlines calling it the best film of the year. For some reason, I was expecting a really serious film—an action thriller of sorts. Well, that’s not what we got. What we got was so much better.

The film follows Anora, or Ani, as she calls herself, the only Russian-speaking exotic dancer at her club, as she meets a client: Ivan, the son of a Russian oligarch. It seems like she likes him—well, she’s paid to act that way. But when she starts showing up at his mansion and sleeping with him for extra cash, they start to bond and we start to think hey, maybe she does like him a little. Then she takes $15k to be his girlfriend for a week, they get married in Vegas, she quits her job, and suddenly it’s like, okay, she must like him at least a little bit. I mean, he clearly likes her. Right?

That’s really where the story starts. As it turns out, his parents don’t like her. Which is crazy, because they don’t know her—they know nothing about her save her job. They fly to New York to get the marriage annulled, and Ani must fight for her marriage on her own.

Anora is a witty comedy built on stereotypes of gold-digging sex workers getting their big break by seducing a rich man. With the way the film starts, you assume that’s the way it’s gonna go. But it pivots. Ani’s living the dream until one day, she’s not. We never really know how much she loves this guy, but that’s the thing—it doesn’t matter. She’s been promised a better life and the rug’s been pulled out from beneath her. Who wouldn’t be hurt by that? Who wouldn’t be desperate to get that life back?

In this film, Baker refuses to mock Ani for her profession, or ridicule her for her dreams and the fact that she genuinely thought she could live them out. Hidden behind Anora’s hilarity is a sobering reminder that sex workers are people: people who live, people who struggle, people who dream. People who deserve to chase their dreams just like anyone else. Ani is by no means perfect, but she’s real.

Since watching Anora, I find myself thinking about that woman outside the club from the summer, or the millions like her across the world. I wonder what her life is like. I wonder what she dreams of. Does she have a child? Parents or siblings dependent on her? I imagine her returning home in the early hours, as everyone else’s day is just beginning. I wonder what she thinks about. Maybe she dreams of a better life. Maybe she dreams of finding true love. Or maybe, she dreams of getting a good night’s sleep. Whatever it is she wants most in life, I hope she gets it.

So, the burning question: is this the best film of 2024? Honestly, I don’t know. It could be, but it’s not really my place to say. Something I can guarantee you, though, is that it’s a worthwhile ride. It’s deeply human in a way you can only understand if you’ve seen it. So go get your friends, your significant other, maybe not your parents, and go see Anora when you can. I promise you won’t regret it.