Anora and Love in the time of capitalism

As much as I liked Anora, I can’t say I loved it. While the movie has its moments, a number of things didn’t quite land for me. One scene, however, I did love. It’s the final scene with Anora and Igor in the car. Spoilers ahead if you haven’t watched the movie.

Anora is a sex worker who thought she finally got her Cinderella moment by marrying a young, rich Russian oligarch’s son. When his family and their henchmen head to New York to annul the marriage however, she realises that her dreams are just dreams.

The opening sequence sets the tone: a close-up of her face as she’s  lap dancing for a client, her back turned to him, an image devoid of intimacy. 

This is followed by a montage of her interactions with various men. They talk at her, not to her, while she performs the role they expect, effortlessly upselling her services. These exchanges are sterile, hollow—there’s no genuine connection, only a superficial give-and-take.

Then she meets Vanya, the oligarch’s son. Vanya is everything Anora isn’t: young, wealthy, and reckless. He’s sweet in a boyish, self-absorbed way, but his view of Anora is entirely transactional. He pays for her time, her body, even for her to play the part of his girlfriend for a week. Anora becomes a symbol of indulgence for him—an accessory to his fleeting whims. When they marry, it feels less like love and more like Vanya treating her as another extravagant purchase, a trophy for his impulsive escapades.

When they get married, his parents try to annul the marriage by sending three of their… for lack of a better term, henchmen to Vanya’s mansion. The henchmen, Toros, Garnick and Igor take her wedding ring and try to convince Anora to the annulment. Anora heavily insists on the marriage. That they’re in love, that they should be together. It’s unclear to me whether she loves Vanya or whether she loves the security and money he can provide. 

After Toros and Garnick call her a prostitute, she lashes out at them and fights like a motherfucker. But they agree to find Vanya, who ran away from all of this.

Then comes the final scene—my favorite moment in the film.

Igor, the quietest and most sympathetic of the henchmen, is tasked with driving Anora home. Unlike his colleagues, Igor has shown glimpses of humanity throughout the film, treating Anora with a subdued kindness. In the car, he surprises her by returning her wedding ring. “Don’t tell Toros,” he mutters before stepping out to carry her bags up to her apartment.

Anora is visibly touched but unsure how to respond. When Igor returns to the car, she initiates sex. It’s unclear whether this is a genuine attempt to thank him, an instinctive response to kindness, or a habitual retreat into the only kind of interaction she knows with men. They face each other, and for the first time in the film, Anora’s partner is fully present. Igor looks into her eyes, at her face, his expression a mix of surprise and tenderness. But Anora’s face is blank, detached—this is not intimacy for her. When he leans in to kiss her, she recoils, establishing a boundary. For many sex workers, kissing is an intimate act—one that is often off-limits for professional transactions. Igor, however, isn’t trying to purchase anything from her. For the first time in the film, someone sees her as a person rather than an object. He has tried, in his understated way, to connect with her. This realization overwhelms Anora.

She lashes out, screaming and shoving him away, her pent-up anguish spilling over. And then she breaks, collapsing into his arms sobbing. 

Igor doesn’t speak. He simply holds her as she cries. The camera lingers as her cries fade, replaced by the soft hum of the car engine and the muffled sound of falling snow.

Then, the credits roll.