Anora, the latest work from Sean Baker, immerses the audience in what might initially seem like an all-too-familiar neon-lit, hypnotic world – here glamor brushes against stark realism. At its heart is a Brooklyn girl working as a stripper whose destiny unexpectedly intersects with the son of a Russian oligarch. What first appears as a clichéd romance swiftly reveals itself to be a sharp satire of global capitalism—a world where the boundaries between "East" and "West" have long since faded beneath the endless swipes of golden bank cards.

Baker remains true to his artistic vision—his camera embraces people exactly as they are: with lined faces, tawdry dreams, and awkward hopes. However, "Anora" introduces a fresh element—a subtle yet potent flavor of political satire. The Russian wealthy here are neither villains nor heroes. Instead, they're portrayed as comically absurd—lost wanderers caught somewhere between Forbes magazine features and the cheap thrills of Las Vegas.

The director refrains from moralizing or explaining what's "right" or "wrong"; he simply observes. Buying someone else's dream proves just as effortless as losing it. Baker masterfully plays with contrasts—the bright lights of clubs give way to the cold emptiness of Brooklyn landscapes. At a certain point, overt luxury begins to reek of desperation—a "party that never ends" atmosphere.

Thematically, the film cleverly resonates with contemporary discourse. Against the backdrop of renewed conversations about "Russian money" and "freedom," "Anora" rings out as an ironic commentary—free of aggression, yet sufficiently biting. This ironic stance finds its most powerful expression in the film's conclusion, leaving viewers with a bitter aftertaste. The end of the party is tragic—but everyone still has their selfies from the fun ride. "Anora" is ultimately a piercing chronicle of tiny personal tragedies unfolding against the backdrop of a global farce. The fairy-tale facade collapses, revealing a sobering parable about money, patriarchy, and the steep price of taking a ride on the social elevator.