No Woke Trap. Anora is the opposite of a trap — it is ideologically transparent, artistically honest, and aimed at an adult art house audience that expects exactly this kind of morally complex, sympathetically framed portrait of a marginalized protagonist. Sean Baker's filmography (Tangerine, The Florida Project, Red Rocket) establishes a clear and public pattern of humanizing people the mainstream culture would prefer to ignore. His Oscar speech dedicating the film to 'all sex workers' removed any remaining ambiguity about his sympathies. This is not a film that hides what it is. It is simply a film some viewers will disagree with.
Classification: WOKE
WOKE 36 | TRADITIONAL 10 | Composite -26 WOKE
Confidence: HIGH
⚠️ SPOILER ALERT: This review contains detailed plot analysis and reveals key story elements including the film's ending.
Opening Hook
Hollywood handed its highest honor — Best Picture at the 97th Academy Awards — to a film whose protagonist is a sex worker and exotic dancer, whose marriage to a Russian oligarch's failson disintegrates in real time, and whose director dedicated his Oscar to "all sex workers everywhere." The conservative reaction was predictable: Jason Whitlock of The Blaze called it a "porno"; columnists decried it as glorifying prostitution; social media erupted in disbelief that the Academy had gone this far. But the reality of Anora is more complicated than either its champions or detractors want to admit. Sean Baker's film — already crowned with the Palme d'Or at Cannes — is undeniably the work of a filmmaker with a consistent ideological project: humanizing people that polite society would prefer to look past. The result is a Cinderella story that eats itself, a romance built on sand, and a portrait of class contempt so vivid it burns. Whether you call that art or agenda depends on what you walk in looking for.
Plot Summary
Anora — known as Ani (Mikey Madison) — is a 23-year-old exotic dancer and sex worker living in Brighton Beach, Brooklyn, the heart of New York's Russian immigrant community. She has a little Russian herself, which comes in handy when her boss introduces her to Ivan "Vanya" Zakharov (Mark Eydelshteyn), the pampered, perpetually stoned son of a Moscow billionaire. Vanya is spending his New York years the way spoiled heirs do — partying, ordering people around, and treating his father's credit card as a constitutional right. He takes an immediate liking to Ani, begins paying for her company exclusively, and sweeps her into a whirlwind of luxury: parties, a sprawling mansion, spontaneous trips.
Then, on a breathless Las Vegas weekend, Vanya floats the idea of getting married. His pitch is characteristically self-serving — a green card would let him avoid going home to work for his father — but Ani accepts. She moves into his mansion. For a few weeks, she lives her Cinderella fantasy: the ring on her finger, the staff around her, the sense that her life has been fundamentally and permanently upgraded.
It doesn't last. Word reaches Vanya's parents in Moscow. They dispatch Toros (Karren Karagulian), Vanya's godfather and fixer, along with two associates, Garnik (Vache Tovmasyan) and the quietly observant Igor (Yura Borisov), with orders to force an annulment and make the problem go away. What follows is one of the film's most propulsive sequences: Ani fights back against the men with startling ferocity — scratching, biting, refusing to sign anything, insisting her marriage is real and that she and Vanya are in love. She buys time while Vanya disappears into Brooklyn's nightlife.
The four of them — Ani, Toros, Garnik, and the reluctant Igor — spend a chaotic night hunting Vanya through bars and clubs. When they find him, he's too wrecked to be useful. Vanya's parents fly in. Galina — fierce, contemptuous, dressed in wealth like armor — makes her opinion of Ani clear without needing to say much. She is not a person to them. She is a complication.
The annulment is forced through. Vanya, confronted by his parents, deflates completely. The boy Ani believed loved her reveals himself as what he always was: a child in a rich man's world, incapable of consequence. He apologizes to his parents. He does not fight for Ani. The marriage is erased.
Igor is assigned to drive Ani home. They ride in near-silence. Then, in the film's devastating final scene, Ani — who has held herself together through fury and will all night — finally breaks. She kisses Igor. He responds. And then, in a parked car on a Brooklyn street, the dam collapses. The single tear that Mikey Madison sheds in that moment — reportedly unplanned, a genuine accident Baker chose to keep — carries the weight of everything Ani had let herself believe. The glass slipper was never hers to keep. The prince sent his goons. And now she's sitting in a car with the only person who treated her with any human decency, weeping for a Cinderella story that was never going to happen for someone like her.
Trope Analysis — VVWS Weighted Scoring
Formula: Weighted Score = Severity × Authenticity Multiplier × Centrality Multiplier
Authenticity: High=0.7, Moderate=1.0, Low (injected)=1.4 | Centrality: Low=0.5, Moderate=1.0, High=1.8
🔴 Woke Tropes
| Trope | Severity (1–5) | Authenticity | Centrality | Weighted Score |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Sex Work Sympathetic Normalization | 5 | Low (1.4) | High (1.8) | 12.6 |
| Fairytale / Romantic Institution Deconstruction | 3 | Low (1.4) | High (1.8) | 7.6 |
| Anti-Wealth Class Critique | 4 | Moderate (1.0) | High (1.8) | 7.2 |
| Marriage as Transactional / Disposable | 3 | Moderate (1.0) | High (1.8) | 5.4 |
| Male Figures as Predatory, Infantile, or Corrupt | 3 | Moderate (1.0) | Moderate (1.0) | 3.0 |
| WOKE TOTAL | 35.8 |
🟢 Traditional Tropes
| Trope | Severity (1–5) | Authenticity | Centrality | Weighted Score |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Ani's Genuine Desire for Love and Committed Marriage | 4 | High (0.7) | High (1.8) | 5.0 |
| Sex Work Shown Without Glamour — Exploitation and Heartbreak | 3 | High (0.7) | Moderate (1.0) | 2.1 |
| Female Longing for Real Love and Security (Authentic Vulnerability) | 3 | High (0.7) | Moderate (1.0) | 2.1 |
| Working-Class Authenticity / Brighton Beach Community Grounding | 2 | High (0.7) | Low (0.5) | 0.7 |
| TRAD TOTAL | 9.9 |
Score Margin: -26 WOKE
Woke Trap Assessment
No Woke Trap detected.
Anora is exactly what it presents itself as. There is no bait-and-switch. The film's subject matter — a sex worker's marriage to a rich kid — is front and center in its marketing, its Cannes prestige, and its pre-release reviews. Sean Baker has built his entire career around marginalizing protagonists: transgender sex workers in Tangerine, poverty-stricken families in The Florida Project, a sleazy adult film veteran in Red Rocket. Anyone who buys a ticket to a Sean Baker film expecting something that avoids moral complexity or unconventional protagonists simply hasn't been paying attention.
What Anora is not doing, notably, is hiding its sympathies behind a family-friendly package or a blockbuster franchise. It is an R-rated art house film with an explicit content warning and a subject matter that announces itself clearly. If Barbie was a woke trap — a pink ambush of feminist ideology inside a children's toy movie — Anora is the opposite: ideologically transparent, dramatically honest, and aimed squarely at the art house audience that expects exactly this.
Families will not accidentally stumble into Anora looking for something else. Adults who choose it know what they're choosing.
Creative Team at a Glance
- Director: Sean Baker — Consistent champion of fringe and marginalized protagonists (Tangerine, The Florida Project, Red Rocket). Humanist progressive. Every film is a close-up on a life the culture would prefer not to see.
- Writer: Sean Baker (sole writer) — His scripts are character-driven, naturalistic, and politically inflected through empathy rather than polemic. He does not lecture. He observes — and what he chooses to observe does the work.
- Lead Producer: Alex Coco, with Neon as distributor — Neon has built its brand as the prestige distributor for challenging, non-mainstream cinema (Parasite, Saltburn). A left-leaning institutional home for the film.
- Top Cast: Mikey Madison (Ani), Yura Borisov (Igor), Mark Eydelshteyn (Vanya), Karren Karagulian (Toros), Vache Tovmasyan (Garnik), Aleksei Serebryakov (Nikolai), Darya Ekamasova (Galina)
- Pre-Viewing Prediction: WOKE — Baker's track record made the ideological direction entirely predictable. Confirmed.
- Oscar Acceptance Note: In his Best Picture acceptance speech, Baker explicitly dedicated the film to "all sex workers" — a statement that ignited significant right-wing backlash and became a flashpoint in the culture war debate surrounding the film.
Director Track Record
Director & Writer: Sean Baker
Sean Baker is independent American cinema's most consistent advocate for the unseen and the discarded. His films are not comfortable. They are not designed to be. They are designed to make you sit with people that the broader culture has written off, long enough that you can't write them off anymore.
Filmography with ideological assessment:
- Tangerine (2015): Shot on an iPhone 5S, this is a day-in-the-life story of two transgender sex workers in Los Angeles. Vibrant, funny, raw, and explicitly normalizing of transgender identity and sex work. Baker treats his protagonists with unsentimental affection. There is no moral judgment. Ideological direction: strongly progressive.
- The Florida Project (2017): A stunning portrait of poverty through the eyes of a six-year-old girl living in a motel in the shadow of Disney World with her unstable young mother. Baker's most critically celebrated film before Anora, and notably the one a conservative commentator at the Washington Examiner calls "one of the century's most compelling right-coded movies" for its unflinching portrait of welfare dependency and single motherhood. The most ideologically ambiguous film in Baker's catalog — genuinely painful, genuinely honest about the costs of chaotic parenting, without being a polemic in either direction.
- Red Rocket (2021): A charming, self-absorbed adult film veteran (Simon Rex) returns to his Texas hometown, sponges off his ex-wife, and grooms a young teenager he intends to launch as a porn star. The film refuses to make him a villain — and also refuses to make him sympathetic. It simply watches him. Baker's refusal to editorialize is his signature, but the subject matter and the implicit frame (the sex industry as just another economic ecosystem) are progressively inflected.
- Anora (2024): Baker's most mainstream film and his biggest awards statement. The explicit Oscar speech dedication to "all sex workers" is, by Baker's standards, unusually direct political signaling. The film itself is more artistically than ideologically motivated — but the ideology is baked in at the foundation.
Pattern assessment: Baker is not a filmmaker who makes agitprop. He is a filmmaker whose worldview — deep empathy for economic and social outcasts, refusal to moralize about sex work, class-consciousness — expresses itself through whom he chooses to love on camera. The politics emerge from the subjects, not from speeches or message moments. This makes him simultaneously more artistically valuable and harder to dismiss than a more hectoring filmmaker. His ideology is real and consistent. His craft is genuine and significant.
Ideological tendency: PROGRESSIVE HUMANIST. Consistent across career. Marginalizing protagonist sympathy is his defining artistic and political gesture.
Adult Viewer Insight
Conservatives who dismissed Anora on sight — recoiling at the Oscar acceptance speech, the subject matter, the awards circuit fanfare — missed something worth engaging with. The Washington Examiner, no bastion of liberal opinion, published a piece arguing that conservative critics were "self-defeating" in their knee-jerk rejection, noting that Anora doesn't glamorize sex work: it exposes it as soul-crushing.
They have a point. Anora does not end with Ani vindicated, wealthy, and free. It ends with her crying in a parked car on a Brooklyn street, her marriage annulled by a family that treated her like a nuisance to be managed. The fairytale was a lie. Vanya was a child, not a prince. The oligarch class doesn't marry girls like Ani — it pays them off and flies home. If you came to Anora looking for a celebration of sex work as a path to love and luxury, the film will correct you in its final twenty minutes with the efficiency of a cold shower.
That said, the film's sympathetic framing of Ani's profession is real and intentional. Baker presents sex work as a job — not as a moral failing, not as a tragedy, not as the defining wound of Ani's life. She is not a cautionary tale waiting to be told. She is a person who works at a strip club, happens to marry a rich kid, and gets hurt when it falls apart. The film's refusal to pathologize her profession is its most politically charged choice, and it's not incidental.
The class critique is equally real and intentional. The oligarch family's contempt for Ani is the film's most viscerally effective content. Galina, Vanya's mother, is devastating in her dismissal — not monstrous, but simply indifferent in the way that the very wealthy are sometimes indifferent to the people beneath them. The film doesn't traffic in cheap anti-Russian xenophobia; the critique is about wealth and power, not nationality. Ani is disposable because she is poor and outside their social class, not because she is American.
For the conservative adult viewer: what's genuine in Anora is genuine. Ani's desire for real love and commitment is not ironic or undercut. She believes in her marriage. She fights for it with more conviction than anyone in the film expected. Her vulnerability in that final car scene is one of the most authentically human moments in recent mainstream cinema. The film's traditional elements — the longing for love, the reality that class determines destiny, the consequence of building a life on fantasy — are real, even if Baker's larger ideological frame is not yours.
What's ideological is also real. Baker is not neutral. He chose to make a film about a sex worker in which her profession is treated without judgment. He dedicated his Oscar to sex workers. He has spent a career making films about people whose lives the culture has coded as morally problematic, and he has consistently declined to agree with that coding. That is a consistent, intentional, progressive worldview. Both things are true. Engage accordingly.
Parental Guidance
Recommended minimum age: Adults Only (18+)
Anora is rated R for "strong sexual content throughout, graphic nudity, pervasive language, and drug use." The MPAA rating undersells the reality. This is an adults-only film in every meaningful sense.
Explicit Content Catalogue:
- Sexual Content (Severe): Multiple extended sex scenes between Ani and Vanya, depicted explicitly. The strip club sequences in the film's early sections feature topless nudity and simulated sex acts during lap dancing performances. Sexual content is not incidental — it is visually central to the first third of the film.
- Graphic Nudity (Severe): Full female nudity throughout, including explicit breast and buttocks shots. The film opens in the strip club environment. There is no ambiguity about what the audience is watching.
- Drug Use (Moderate–High): Vanya smokes marijuana constantly throughout the film. Cocaine and other drug use is depicted during nightclub sequences. Vanya is explicitly intoxicated for much of the second and third acts.
- Language (Severe): The MPAA citation of "pervasive language" is accurate. F-words, crude sexual terms, and profanity are continuous throughout the runtime.
- Violence (Moderate): Ani is physically restrained and manhandled by Toros and Garnik while they attempt to force the annulment. She scratches, bites, and fights back in intense scenes of physical coercion. No graphic gore.
- Emotional Content (High): The film's most disturbing content is emotional: watching Ani's marriage dissolve in real time, Vanya's capitulation to his parents, and the final car scene breakdown. Many viewers will find this more difficult than the physical content.
For parents: This film has no appropriate age range below adulthood. The explicit sexual content is not the kind that can be fast-forwarded past — it is structurally embedded in the story. The emotional content is sophisticated and adult in a way that teenagers cannot meaningfully process with context. This is a film for grown-ups, and the rating should be understood accordingly.
Formula: Weighted Score = Severity × Authenticity Multiplier × Centrality Multiplier
🔴 Woke Tropes
| Trope | Severity | Authenticity | Centrality | Score |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Sex Work Sympathetic Normalization | 5 | Low | High | 12.6 |
| Fairytale / Romantic Institution Deconstruction | 3 | Low | High | 7.6 |
| Anti-Wealth Class Critique | 4 | Moderate | High | 7.2 |
| Marriage as Transactional / Disposable | 3 | Moderate | High | 5.4 |
| Male Figures as Predatory, Infantile, or Corrupt | 3 | Moderate | Moderate | 3 |
| TOTAL WOKE | 35.8 | |||
🟢 Traditional Tropes
| Trope | Severity | Authenticity | Centrality | Score |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Ani's Genuine Desire for Love and Committed Marriage | 4 | High | High | 5.04 |
| Sex Work Shown Without Glamour — Exploitation and Heartbreak | 3 | High | Moderate | 2.1 |
| Female Longing for Real Love and Security (Authentic Vulnerability) | 3 | High | Moderate | 2.1 |
| Working-Class Authenticity / Brighton Beach Community | 2 | High | Low | 0.7 |
| TOTAL TRADITIONAL | 9.9 | |||
Score Margin: -26 WOKE
Director: Sean Baker
PROGRESSIVE HUMANIST — consistent across career; marginalizing protagonist sympathy is his defining artistic and political gestureSean Baker is independent American cinema's most consistent advocate for the unseen and the discarded. His films are not comfortable, nor designed to be. He has spent his career making close-up portraits of people the culture has written off — transgender sex workers (Tangerine), poverty-stricken single mothers in motel welfare housing (The Florida Project), a sleazy adult film veteran grooming a teenager (Red Rocket) — and consistently declining to moralize about them. His politics emerge through whom he chooses to love on camera, not through speeches or message moments. This makes him simultaneously more artistically valuable and harder to dismiss than a more hectoring filmmaker. In his Anora Oscar speech, he dedicated the film explicitly to 'all sex workers,' his most direct political statement to date. His ideology is genuine and consistent. His craft is also genuine and significant.
Writer: Sean Baker
Baker writes all his own films and brings a naturalistic, character-driven approach to his scripts. He does not lecture through dialogue. He observes — and what he chooses to observe does the ideological work. His scripts are built around economic marginality and social exclusion, and they resist the redemption arc structure that Hollywood usually demands. Ani is not saved by her experience in Anora. She is simply more alone at the end than she was at the beginning. That refusal to provide comfort is both Baker's artistic signature and his political statement.
Adult Viewer Insight
Conservatives who dismissed Anora on sight — recoiling at Baker's Oscar speech, the subject matter, the awards circuit fanfare — missed something worth engaging with. The Washington Examiner noted that conservative critics were 'self-defeating' in their knee-jerk rejection, pointing out that Anora doesn't glamorize sex work: it exposes it as soul-crushing. The film ends with Ani crying in a parked car, her marriage annulled, discarded by a family that treated her as a nuisance. Vanya was a child, not a prince. The Cinderella story was always a lie. What's genuine in Anora is genuine: Ani's desire for real love and commitment is treated without irony, her vulnerability is real, and the class critique — while ideologically inflected — reflects an economic reality about how the very wealthy treat people outside their world. Baker is not neutral. His progressive humanist worldview is consistent and intentional. But so is the film's heartbreak. Both deserve honest recognition.
Parental Guidance
Rated R for strong sexual content throughout, graphic nudity, pervasive language, and drug use. This is an adults-only film with no meaningful age minimum below 18. Explicit content includes: multiple graphic sex scenes; full female nudity in strip club sequences that constitute a significant portion of the film's opening; continuous profanity; persistent marijuana and drug use; physical coercion and restraint scenes; and one of the most emotionally devastating endings in recent cinema. Parents should not screen this film with teenagers. There is no family-appropriate version of this content.
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