m-sileo

What begins as a lighthearted comedy about a womanizing pharmaceutical rep (Jake Gyllenhaal, using all his charm to sell pills and seduce women) takes an unexpected turn when he meets Maggie (Anne Hathaway). She not only disarms him with her personality but also with a confession that completely changes the tone: she's in the early stages of Parkinson's.

That twist turns what starts off as just another romantic comedy into something far more profound. The interesting part is that we never really know where it's heading: at times the humor lightens the emotional weight, and at others the sadness takes over with force. That blend, although somewhat uneven, feels authentic.

What truly holds everything together is the chemistry between the leads. The sharp, witty, and provocative dialogue keeps things fresh even when the story gets darker. Hathaway especially shines-she brings tenderness, vulnerability, and strength, making the focus naturally shift to her character.

In the end, what remains is an imperfect romance, full of humor and pain, with characters that feel real and emotions that break through the screen.

What always draws me to Sean Baker's cinema is his obsession with portraying those who live on the margins-the kinds of characters who, in any other movie, would be side figures or completely forgotten. Not here. He puts them at the center, gives them the camera, gives them life. But he doesn't turn them into heroes. On the contrary, what I like is that he dares to let them simply be what they are: imperfect people, who rarely fix anything-or if they do, they solve it in the worst possible way, through violence, through glaring flaws. That's what makes them feel so real. Baker doesn't need his characters to be aware of their own tragedy: they just keep moving forward, without much reflection, carrying impossible defects.

The beginning of Anora is a perfect example of that approach. That frantic montage, with explicit sex, struck me as such a bold choice. It's not there for cheap provocation-it's there to throw you right into the raw world of the protagonist. A world where everything is a transaction: a dancer who gives herself to whoever pays, a rich kid who confuses love with power, a giant diamond ring as the only proof of a relationship. Nothing is authentic, everything is ephemeral, Instagrammable. It's the idea of the American Dream, but no longer a dream of social mobility-just the appearance of having moved up. What matters is the image, not the reality.

Within that chaos, what really struck me was the presence of Igor. Not as a traditional savior, but almost as a shadow-suggested through glances, through subtle framing. He's this light at the end of the tunnel that the film never underlines in an obvious way, but it's always pulsing in the background. And in the end, that light becomes essential: Anora believes she has to thank him with sex, because that's the only thing she's learned to give. But when Igor asks for a kiss, everything collapses. Because a kiss means affection, closeness, something real. And she realizes, through tears, that someone finally loved her for real. That scene broke me: the entire screwball comedy artifice, the fairy-tale façade, the illusion of the American Dream-it all comes crashing down.

I liked how it starts: no classic first act, straight into the action, with chases and a dark tone mixed with some black humor that gives it personality (little touches like the horse actually work). I also found it refreshing to have an action lead who isn't a superhero, but rather a flawed, tired, sensitive guy with a backstory that makes him more human.

The film is definitely dark, but it has flashes of life thanks to a cast that knows how to elevate every scene. Even when the dialogue feels weak, the actors make it sound natural, and Jenna Coleman in particular manages to sell lines that could have fallen flat. The action sequences also have this wild, over-the-top quality-motorbikes, jet skis, horses, boats... you name it. Plus, I appreciated the underlying message about breaking the cycle of violence, which gives the story more weight than your average violent thriller.

On the downside, the plot stalls a bit when it introduces some uninteresting villains, and it's not always easy to connect with the characters. The overuse of shaky cam also wore me out, often mistaking motion for excitement. In the end, while it works as an indie action thriller and has its moments, it didn't leave much of an emotional or lasting impact on me.