We were rooting for Conclave to win Best Picture, but dark horse Anora, which we hadn’t yet seen by Oscar night, won instead. On the surface they couldn’t be more different. Staid Cardinals with closely held secrets vying to replace a dead Pope, trapped in a papal conclave until someone wins a two-thirds majority versus an almost pornographic film about sex workers, one of whom finds herself in a Cinderella dream turned nightmare. Each won for Best Screenplay (Conclave for Adapted Screenplay) and, indeed, their scripts were tight and gripping. Both stories feature a key character whose humility and humanity shines faintly at first but blossoms by the end into the “righteous man,” who succeeds where the less righteous fail: Mexican Archbishop Vincent Benitez in Conclave, who is elected Pope, and Igor in Anora, who by film’s end wins the heart of the eponymous heroine.
Dissimilar as the settings in the two films are, all are claustrophobic. Trapped within the Vatican, the Cardinals move from their living quarters to their dining hall to the antechamber in the Sistine Chapel where they vote, and back again. The sex club where Anora works is itself a dead end, but the extensive search for the delinquent Ivan through the clubs and restaurants of Brighton Beach, an enclave dominated by Russian oligarchs and their allied mafiosi, evokes a world that cannot escape itself, not unlike the Vatican as portrayed in Conclave. (The set for the Cardinals’ living quarters in the Domus Sanctae Marthae was deliberately designed to seem more “prison-like” than the actual building.)
Of course, there are key differences besides the content. In Conclave we must be told everything, the past sins, ambitions, manipulations and ideologies of the Cardinals, as well as the astounding revelation with which the film ends. By contrast Anora employs frenetic action sped by constant cutting, and we are told very little. Few details fill in the backstories of Anora, Ivan, Igor and the others. For the most part we are shown, rather than told of, Ivan’s shallowness, Anora’s heartbreak, and Igor’s longing. (Admittedly, it is hard to convey much information with dialogue in which every other word is “fuck.”)
But these tales are, ultimately, similar: men trapped in their own sins, ambitions, and prejudices, women trapped in sex work, an immigrant community trapped in its own limitations and corruption and the glimmer of humanity that moves through it all, creating some semblance of a moral universe in which good triumphs in the end. Both films offer a message of hope for these trying times as well as the caveat that goodness pairs best with humility.