‘Anora ‘Has Already Made Sean Baker’s Biggest Dream Come True

Sean Baker calls taking the stage at the Cannes Film Festival in May to accept the Palme d’Or, the festival’s highest honor, the “most overwhelming moment of my life.”

Onstage, he told the crowd that winning the Palme had been his singular goal for the past 30 years. While most filmmakers would put an Academy Award on that pedestal, Baker has always been focused more on the world cinema stage than the Hollywood one. “I consider it the end-all, be-all,” he tells Little Gold Men. “You’re being recognized by your peers, by extremely renowned artists who have either been at Cannes or have had incredible work of theirs celebrated in the past. So then to be celebrated by them, it just means everything.”

Baker, whose films include Tangerine, The Florida Project, and Red Rocket, won the Palme for Anora, his dazzling film centered on a stripper and sex worker named Anora (she goes by Ani), who falls for the eccentric son of a Russian billionaire. They get married, but his family soon intervenes to pressure them to get their marriage annulled. The movie features a knockout performance by lead Mikey Madison, who is already garnering buzz in the lead-actress Oscar race.

On Anora, Baker was the writer, director, casting agent, and editor, and in an unorthodox practice, he waited months after filming to even begin the editing process. By taking on so much of the project himself, he created something that could only be a Sean Baker film. Baker’s most recent films have all received critical acclaim, but Anora and the Palme win have pushed him more directly into the awards spotlight. Still, he tells Little Gold Men, even if his projects get more ambitious or bigger in scope and budget, he’ll stick with his unique style of filmmaking (forged in independent cinema) no matter what.

Vanity Fair: You went to Mikey Madison about this project before you’d even written a script and told her you’d write the role for her. Why her?

Sean Baker: I already had the beginning, middle, and end in my mind. Being an independent filmmaker, we are the ones who green light our film, so we don’t have to wait for others to green light. So we actually green lit this project in our heads. We were moving forward with it and we knew we had to eventually find our Anora, and it just happened to be that we went out to see [2022’s] Scream opening weekend, right around that time.

I had already been so intrigued by Mikey from her few minutes at the end of Once Upon a Time in Hollywood. I really thought she stole the end of the movie. And so when I saw Scream, those two performances showed me everything I needed. Some of it can’t even be articulated, quite honestly, maybe it’s just intuition, but I just knew there in the theater that she was our Ani, and I turned to my wife and producer, Samantha Quan, and I said, “The minute we step out of this theater, we’re calling her agent.

You’re known for working with people who are a part of the community of the story you’re telling. What did you discover during that part of the process that informed the story in a way you hadn’t initially expected?

Our chief consultant was Andrea Werhun, who wrote an incredible memoir called Modern Whore, and it was looking at her life in her twenties as an escort and a dancer. So much of it applied to Ani’s life. So learning all the details—these are little details that you see sprinkled throughout the film, even down to like how she has her lunch break in the locker room eating out of a tupperware container. It’s been great to hear actually from dancers and sex workers saying that you really nailed it.

How would you say that Anora challenged you in ways that your previous films had not?

I was really happy with Red Rocket in terms of taking us on a roller coaster ride. And I started to see that it was interesting and challenging to play with tonal shifts. So this film, I really leaned into it. I knew that I could actually get to places that were a little more broad in the humor, almost reaching sitcom levels of humor, as long as I brought the audience back to a grounded reality at the end of the film. A lot of it happens in post-production. So you don’t know whether or not you have a good movie on your hands until literally the last day of editing. So it’s a very stressful route that I take.

In that editing process, then, do you have days where you’re worried you won’t get there?

Of course. You know why? Because I edit in a very unorthodox way. I don’t do an assembly cut. Number one, I wait for months before editing so I can distance myself from the material. I try to forget what I shot, and when I start editing, I don’t even refer to a script. I look at the footage, I edit it in order, never looking ahead. I’ll finish one scene entirely, including its sound design before moving on to the next scene.

Really, I’m the only one who can know how to edit this stuff. I think if I was ever a director for hire and I was working for a studio, I would be fired on the second day because it would be like, “what the hell are you shooting? Your coverage makes no sense.”

Anora

Neon

What’s been the most interesting reaction you’ve had to Anora?

I’ve been hearing a lot of different interpretations regarding the ending, and some are jaw-dropping, I have to say. But what I appreciate about it is that everybody seems to be wanting to discuss it and that was the point of that last scene. I think unfortunately audiences have been conditioned to be told everything and be told what to think. It’s kind of sad sometimes when I hear from people saying, “why didn’t you tell us what exactly is going to happen?” I don’t know—my favorite films, they never do.

Could you pick a couple films that you would recommend audiences watch either before or after seeing Anora, as fun companion pieces?

There are different films that I would recommend for different reasons, but I’m going to go with ones that have influenced or inspired the actual story—the content and the themes that I’m covering. One of those is Fellini’s Nights of Cabiria. I think that is like a very early example and one of the greatest examples of a very empathetic approach to sex work. It’s an important film that I think people should be talking more about. And to get you into that New York groove, watch French Connection, watch The Taking of Pelham 123—those classic New York films from the ‘70s, because style-wise, that’s what we were trying to emulate.

Do you think the path you took coming up through independent film is becoming more difficult for aspiring filmmakers as the industry shrinks and shifts and changes so rapidly right now?

Yes, I really do. And I actually feel for a lot of younger filmmakers because I feel like I got my foot in the door just as it was slamming shut. I’m older than most people think. Everyone lumps me in with the Safdie brothers, Chloe Zhao, Robert Eggers, but I’m actually 10 years older than all of them. I’m up there with Paul Thomas Anderson— I just messed up my 20s. I actually think a lot about what it must be to break in right now. A lot of films are getting lost on streaming. There’s lots of obstacles, but I always feel that the cream rises. It might take eight films, it might take 25 years, but if the talent is there, they will get there.

You spoke in Cannes about how important it is for theatrical release and films to still be making their way to theaters. I assume throughout your career you’ve been approached by streamers. Has that been something you’ve just had to pass on because this is such a priority for you?

Yes, it is. I know I could probably get—

Lots of money.

All the money I could ever want, but I have to sleep at night as well. I fell in love with movies by going to the movies. I can’t imagine falling in love with movies by just watching something that’s streaming that you can shut off and go to the bathroom or whatever, pick up your phone and talk.

I think, unfortunately, for many reasons—streaming, COVID—audiences have forgotten that [movie theaters are] actually better. It is better than watching a film at home, and it’s worth it. Filmmakers have to demand—if they have that power to—long theatrical windows, I think that elevates the importance of a movie. It’s saying the only way to see that film is to go and schedule a night, travel to a movie theater, spend perhaps a little bit extra money. It makes it important in our minds.

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