The portrayal of prostitution in cinema has traditionally been filled with depictions that overlook or avoid the problematic nature of commercial sexual exploitation. Over the years, these portrayals have generally fallen into four main categories: normalization, sensationalization, glamorization, and sanitization. Each of these approaches distorts public perception of the sex trade in a different way, but one of the most subtle distortions stems from the sanitization of sex buying. In this latest blog series, the CSE Institute will examine how various films have misrepresented commercial sexual exploitation and discuss the impact these portrayals have had on public perception of prostitution and human trafficking.
Most recently, systems of prostitution have been thrust into the spotlight by this year’s award-winning movie, Anora, a film depicting the life of a young, female “exotic dancer” living in Brooklyn, New York. The movie follows the journey of Ani, who works at a strip club in Manhattan, struggling to make ends meet. At the club, she meets Vanya, the son of a powerful Russian oligarch, who visits the strip club looking for commercial sex. In sharp contrast to Ani, Vanya lives a life of luxury in a sprawling mansion, surrounded by wealth and excess. After their initial meeting, Vanya begins inviting Ani to his mansion for sex, then later offers to pay her to be his girlfriend for the week. During that week, he takes her to Vegas with his friends, where he asks her to marry him. Their marriage fills Ani with hope for a new life to the point that she quits her job at the club, convinced she’s done with the sex trade.
However, when Vanya’s parents learn of the marriage, they send their henchmen to demand an annulment. Vanya runs away and abandons Ani, leaving her at the mercy of the henchmen. Ani is then tasked with aiding in the hunt for Vanya, left with nothing but the ring on her finger (until one of the henchmen literally takes the ring off her finger) and the fur coat he bought her. By the end of the movie, it becomes clear her life is not destined for a fairytale ending, and Ani and Vanya have their marriage annulled. During their annulment, Ani leaves the coat behind with Vanya’s mother, marking the end of the illusion.
While Anora has been widely celebrated, sweeping this year’s Academy Awards with five Oscars, it represents the latest in a long line of films that attempt to depict the sex trade and fail to fully capture its exploitative nature. Unlike many of its predecessors, Anora does engage with some of the harsh realities of commercial sex. There is no “Cinderella” storyline; Vanya is not portrayed as a “rescuer” as he might have been in films like Sound of Freedom or Pretty Woman. However, even in the absence of a male “prince charming” figure, the film does not attempt to develop Ani’s character at all. For a titular character, we know nothing of her background or motivations. Instead, the movie focuses on Ani’s interactions with Vanya without revealing any information about how those interactions impacted her life outside of those few weeks.
Anora especially falls short in its portrayal of sex buyers by sanitizing Vanya’s character through the use of humor and childlike behaviors. Though the movie makes the unequal power dynamics between Vanya and Ani clear, it glosses over Vanya’s responsibility for her exploitation. Throughout the film, Vanya is portrayed as a juvenile, carefree boy. He exhibits a blatant lack of control, drifting through the film acting on impulse until his parents step in. His behavior is repeatedly excused by those around him, including Ani. Even in the end of the film, the worst consequence he faces is his parents’ disappointment. It’s as if his youth and perceived naivety are an excuse for buying sex and abandoning Ani to face physical abuse.
In a way, the scene where the henchmen arrive at the mansion is likely unintentionally the closest Anora comes to accurately representing the sex trade. Though Vanya is the one responsible for buying sex and all of the subsequent exploitation, he abandons Ani, leaving her to face the consequences of his behavior. The film frames this interaction as comedic, eliciting laughs from the audience despite the fact that the scenes plainly depict violence against a woman in prostitution. During this interaction, Vanya’s handler, Toros, explains to Ani how easy it would be to frame her as a criminal, suggesting that no one would believe a woman in prostitution was a victim. The blame and the responsibility falls to Ani, though the fault should rest solely on Vanya. Through comedic moments and juvenile behaviors, the film attempts to lighten the tone around its depiction of the sex buyer, ultimately minimizing the true impact of his exploitation.
Anora also sanitizes the power dynamic that governs relationships between people in the sex trade and those who manage them. Throughout the film, Ani is shown confronting her manager at the club without any significant repercussions. There is no clear power imbalance or implicit threat of retribution that would typically characterize a relationship involving a woman in the sex trade. In fact, the manager in Anora is seemingly friendly toward Ani, allowing her to leave the club without resistance and even telling her he’ll miss her.
While it is possible that there are some individuals in the sex trade who can freely enter and exit, by choosing to depict the sex trade in this way, Anora sanitizes reality and focuses on the privileged rather than the majority. This depiction overlooks the fact that many women in prostitution are trafficking victims, whose circumstances are shaped by the fraud, force, and coercion exerted by their trafficker. Many pimps use a combination of psychological manipulation, emotional abuse, and physical violence to control their victims. Under Pennsylvania law, such coercive tactics are classified as human trafficking. The definition contained in § 3011 highlights that coercion into commercial sex is not simply an abusive relationship, but a criminal act that strips individuals of their autonomy and safety.
Anora turns what could be a thoughtful critique of sex buyers and the sex trade into something far more palatable, framing buyers as the spoiled children of rich and powerful families with staff on call to clean up any problems that arise from their behavior. Disappointingly, Anora wholly fails to confront the harsh realities of the sex trade. Any attempts to present systems of prostitution in a way that is more digestible to broader audiences yet disconnected from the violence, exploitation, and trauma that many survivors experience is irresponsible. These same themes and oversights are present in Anora, contributing to its portrayal of commercial sexual exploitation as sanitized, arguably glamorous, rather than an honest depiction of systemic violence and harm that define the lived experience of survivors.
As part of our series, the CSE Institute will continue to explore how films like Anora contribute to a narrative that distorts public understanding of commercial sexual exploitation through sanitization, normalization, glamorization, and sensationalization. This blog was written by 1L blogger Skylar Glass.
All views expressed herein are personal to the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the Villanova University Charles Widger School of Law or of Villanova University.