Anora doesn’t merely exist in some nowhere between a comedy that takes itself seriously and a drama that takes itself lightly, but in a very specific space that few directors nowadays can successfully navigate. And no—whilst in hindsight I hardly see how this is possible, not for a moment did I feel the story was stretched. Not during the nearly hour-long montage leading to the boldly belated turning point, nor during the ensuing screwball marathon—maybe just slightly in the final section, as a different film seems to start only to bridge the touching finale and, with it, somehow sealing the message. On the one hand, much of the credit goes to writer, director, and editor Sean Baker, who has a proven knack for keeping the audience engaged and the pace up with minimal narrative elements (I am thinking of Tangerine, another work of sheer bravura in that respect). On the other, to casting director . . . Sean Baker, for his continued trust in Karren Karagulian, an absolute force of nature, and for gathering an ensemble whose performance, both collectively and as individually, is never less than captivating—in the exact etymological sense of the word.
