Director continues his obsession with sex workers 

New York stripper Ani (Mikey Madison, right) enjoys a lavish lifestyle provided by new boyfriend Vanya (Mark Eydelshteyn) in Anora.

By Richard Ades

Sean Baker is fascinated by folks who make their living in the sex industry. For evidence, look at his last three films, which featured a trans sex worker (Tangerine, 2015), a down-and-out stripper (The Florida Project, 2017) and an aging porn star (Red Rocket, 2021).

So it’s no surprise that the writer/director’s latest flick again centers on someone plying a corner of the sex trade. Anora may differ from its predecessors in other ways, but Baker’s preoccupation with the world’s oldest occupation remains the same.

When we first meet the title stripper (Mikey Madison), who goes by the nickname Ani, she’s confidently hawking drinks and lap dances at a New York club. Then she meets a customer named Vanya (Mark Eydelshteyn), who turns out to be the son of a wealthy Russian oligarch.

Faster than you can say Pretty Woman, Ani’s life undergoes a sea change. Swept away by the 21-year-old’s boyish charm and fun-loving ways, not to mention his bottomless wallet, she’s soon enjoying (paid-for) sex, drugs and raucous parties in his luxurious mansion.

Obviously smitten, Vanya then offers Ani $10,000 in exchange for a week’s worth of exclusivity, and she happily accepts—though only after he meets her counter-demand of $15K. The week includes an extravagant trip with friends to Vegas, where Ani and Vanya engage in more sex, drugs and partying before ending up where inebriated Vegas visitors often end up: an all-night wedding chapel.

And they both live happily after ever, right? Nope, because this isn’t Pretty Woman, despite its initial similarities.

Vanya is soon contacted by his father’s fixer, Toros (Karren Karagulian), who warns him that his parents will never accept his marriage to a woman they consider a prostitute. In an attempt to squash the union, Toros then forces his way into the New York mansion accompanied by hired goons Garnick and Igor (Vache Tovmasyan and Yura Borisov). And chaos ensues.

Anora has been called a romcom, but it’s hard to see how it qualifies. What passes for romance often seems more like a business arrangement—for instance, Ani accepts Vanya’s proposal only on the condition that he put a 3-carat ring on her finger. And as for comedy, the flick does feature gobs of near-slapstick violence and property destruction, but they result in laughs only if you can ignore the threatened disaster that produces them.

What this is, actually, is a Sean Baker film, in which success is a distant goal, and mere survival is a hard-won commodity. As stated earlier, though, it’s not quite like previous Baker films.

While its predecessors offer quiet moments and revealing dialogue that help us understand the characters, much of Anora is a cavalcade of frantic scenes featuring partying, screaming and endless F-bombs. For many, this adds up to an impressive achievement, as the film has already won the Cannes Palme D’or and is rumored to be a shoo-in for multiple Oscar noms.

Personally, while I appreciate Baker’s usual sympathetic treatment of societal underdogs, I wish he had exercised a bit more restraint in terms of tone—and in terms of length, especially during the flick’s repetitive second act.   

Back on the plus side, the film’s strengths include its cast, especially the actors in the two lead roles. In very different ways, Madison’s Ani and Eydelshteyn’s Vanya are both forces of nature.

Gratifyingly, the film also boasts a strong and emotionally complex ending. Though Pretty Woman fans might be disappointed, it should make Baker fans feel right at home.

Rating: 3½ stars (out of 5)

Anora (rated R) opens Nov. 1 at theaters nationwide.

Buffalo pals prepare to let it all hang out

Unemployment turns factory workers into strippers in The Full Monty (photo by Heather Wack)
Unemployment turns factory workers into strippers in The Full Monty (photo by Heather Wack)

By Richard Ades

How desperate would you need to be to go onstage and bare it all before a few hundred friends and strangers?

The men in The Full Monty are plenty desperate, having lost their jobs when the local steel mill closed down. Some are afraid they’re going to lose even more if they don’t find work soon.

Adapted by Terrence McNally from the 1997 film, the musical version of The Full Monty relocates the action from Sheffield, England, to Buffalo, N.Y., and adds melodies and lyrics by David Yazbeck. But the basic situation remains the same.

For some of the characters, their very manhood feels threatened by the role reversals they’ve experienced since losing their jobs. After being the main breadwinners throughout their marriages, they now find themselves relying on their wives to bring home the paycheck.

The central protagonist, Jerry (David Bryant Johnson), has an even more basic worry. He’s separated from his wife (Jackie Comisar) and fears he’ll lose joint custody of his son (Kyle Klein II) if he doesn’t find a way to pay up on his child support.

For Jerry and the others, all of this adds up to more than enough reason to throw caution (and their clothes) to the wind by staging a striptease act that goes the Chippendales one better by climaxing in full frontal nudity.

Though the men’s emotional stress is well expressed in McNally’s script and Yazbeck’s catchy tunes, it doesn’t come across as well as it could in Short North Stage’s production. This is largely due to the central relationship between Jerry and his weight-obsessed friend, Dave (John McAvaney). Johnson’s Jerry is more laid back than one might expect for someone in his situation, while McAvaney plays Dave as a goofy sidekick.

Perhaps director/choreographer Edward Carignan decided to keep things light to find the laughs inherent in the characters’ situation, but “light” mostly comes off as simply “bland.” A bit more gritty reality is needed to sustain our interest in a tale that demands nearly three hours of our time.

On the other hand, little needs to be added in terms of music, movement or spectacle. Other than some songs and scenes that end in an awkwardly anticlimactic fashion, the production excels on all three fronts.

Johnson has a particularly nice voice, and the rest of the cast sings serviceably, at least, and often beautifully. Backing them up, music director Jeff Caldwell leads a band that is equally adept at the jazzy overture, the bluesy Big Black Man and the pretty You Rule My World.

Carignan’s choreography is fun and funny, particularly in a number (Michael Jordan’s Ball) that mimics basketball moves. Just as impressive is Dick Block’s set design, which features weathered interiors and exteriors that roll in and out of sight with dazzling efficiency.

Linda Kinnison  Roth as Jeanette Burmeister (photo by Heather Wack)
Linda Kinnison Roth as Jeanette Burmeister (photo by Heather Wack)

Along with all its other strengths, the production boasts two supporting players who are comedic standouts: Linda Kinnison Roth as veteran rehearsal pianist Jeanette Burmeister and R. Lawrence Jenkins as would-be stripper Noah “Horse” T. Simmons.

Two additional supporting players make indelible impressions playing spouses. Gina Handy combines a healthy libido with loving patience as Dave’s wife, Georgie. And as Vicki, wife of laid-off efficiency expert Harold (Ian Short), Danielle Grays kicks out all the stops on the Latin-flavored number Life With Harold.

Finally, something needs to be said for Adam Zeek’s lighting, which allows the show to live up to its name without becoming excessively graphic. Thanks to split-second timing, the inevitable male nudity is glimpsed just long enough to assure us that Jerry and his Buffalo pals do, indeed give us the “full monty.”

Short North Stage will present The Full Monty through April 24 at the Garden Theater, 1187 N. High St., Columbus. Show times are 8 p.m. Thursday-Saturday and 3 p.m. Sunday. Running time: 2 hours, 55 minutes (including intermission). Tickets are $25-$40. 614-725-4042 or shortnorthstage.org.