Writing - Elvin

I pretty much forgot why I watched Anora. I think it was a few months after it had won the Cannes Film Festival and before it got the five Oscars. I found that I started to really look into directors for each of the films, as I am directing small projects too. From the resources I have gathered, Sean Baker has an intimate style that often focuses on marginalized people in America, like sex workers and immigrants.

The film Anora received many criticisms and remains a very divided film, particularly for Chinese audiences. This is totally understandable, given the cultural differences between the audience and the film's main characters. However, it would also be reductive to dismiss these criticisms as cultural misunderstandings. Many of them are definitely reasonable. To me, Anora is undoubtedly a great film—but not to the degree that it will be remembered or considered a classic decades from now. This is totally understandable, and I would say there's a reason I still cheer for it receiving these major awards: it encourages the growth of semi-indie-style films (with lower budgets than traditional Hollywood productions) and helps make the lives of marginalized people more visible and understandable.

It is interesting to see that after the film won Oscars, it sparked a lot of discussion in Chinese media. There was a lot of debate online about the film’s themes—how sex workers are presented, whether it’s an exploitation of their identity or a meaningful representation of this group. Regardless, I believe the film provides a good enough portrayal of a character in a two-hour movie. It's hard to create a highly complex character, especially when the audience lacks much background knowledge and holds many prejudices. I won’t enter this heated debate—instead, I’ll discuss my own views on narrative film versus documentary when it comes to representing marginalized people.

For narrative films, the stories are obviously “made-up,” so the question lies in how much they should adopt from and colorize real-life experience. I believe the main objective and advantage of narrative film is to place the audience in the characters’ circumstances and allow them to fully empathize. This creates a more immersive experience. On the other hand, documentaries often carry a responsibility to be truthful to real events. The core of these two genres is different—one aims for empathy, the other for authenticity. Narrative films prioritize the inner world of the characters through story. Anora, in particular, brings the audience through the relatable struggles of love, resilience, and trauma. Yet this is often criticized for oversimplifying problems. Documentaries may focus more on factual representation. Rather than using dramatic storytelling, they offer a curated selection of multiple, real-life stories.

Narrative films are crafted over time. Scriptwriters must personally talk with marginalized people, get to know their culture, understand their lives, and draw inspiration—or even entire events—from them to craft an engaging and dynamic story. Writers can engineer each element to serve the film’s emotional and thematic goals. Archetypal stories often risk oversimplification, but it's the degree of this that sparks heated debate. A good movie is inevitably a simplification of reality, but it should include implications that allude to the complexity of its real-life counterpart. If those allusions are weak, it may anger people. In contrast, documentaries rely heavily on the shooting process—and more importantly, the editing process—to create a narrative. They are a reconstructed reality. Documentaries can take unexpected turns, as exploration happens during the shoot itself. This inherent difference brings a different mindset for directors, which permeates both the purpose of their work and how it's received by audiences.

Narrative films like Anora focus more on evoking emotion. They have all the storytelling tools to impact the audience and are meticulously crafted for effect. The events, plot, and actor interactions can all be polished in detail. As such, the tone and message of a narrative film are especially tuned to evoke audience response. I would compare this to a traditional novel: rather than directly discussing problems, it uses an objective depiction of events to tell a story. Documentaries, by contrast, discuss problems explicitly and sincerely. They focus more on logic and offer variation through differing perspectives. While this discussion is more restrained and takes a different approach, good documentaries still create strong emotion—just through critical distance rather than direct storytelling.

Due to their social impact, both genres of film must consider ethical responsibilities. Filmmakers have a duty to balance artistic representation with respect for the communities they depict, avoiding misrepresentation. Documentaries can subtly manipulate reality—especially if the director has a predetermined message—which can introduce natural bias. Their social impact differs as well: one genre aims to mobilize understanding, while the other serves more to educate. Narrative films tend to lean toward entertainment, so they can’t stray too far from audience expectations. Documentaries often require a more invested audience—people who are already interested or seeking more information.

When I see films like Anora in the spotlight, and they personally introduce me to a new group of people, I’m glad that awareness is being raised. The key takeaway isn’t necessarily understanding the political rights or policy intricacies, but simply gaining some insight into the kinds of problems people can face. That said, I do admit the film has its flaws—and that’s why I don’t think it will become a classic. Simply put, the artistic elements aren’t stunning. The film has a coherent, distinguishable style, but it's not especially influential. The characterizations are flawed. I really enjoyed the addition of Igor, but that doesn’t make up for the underdeveloped portrayals of Anora and Nikolai Zakharov (her temporary husband). Igor’s representation is done quite well. Even though he’s still a relatively flat character, he has more depth and warmth. Anora and Zakharov, on the other hand, are flat, static characters who undergo little change. They lack emotional impact. Igor is the emotional core that brings some warmth, but he occupies a relatively small portion of the film.

I really liked the last scene—and it’s that scene that I think elevates the movie to another level. Scenes like that don’t exist in isolation; they complement the whole. Additionally, I’d like to point out how the film effectively creates a sense of chaos. The scenes where they’re searching for Zakharov demonstrate how a breakdown of chaos can be orchestrated into a powerful, logical sequence. These scenes effectively convey the desperation of finding Zakharov, Anora’s trauma, and Igor’s powerlessness—and how these feelings all intersect. This orchestrated chaos pushes the plot forward.

Overall, I think the film’s social implications are greater than its impact when judged under the analytical lens through which traditional films are usually evaluated.