Film Review – Emilia Pérez

November 15th, 2024 | POSTED BY Allen Almachar

Emilia Pérez (2024) is one of the most curious films of the year. Whether that is a good or bad thing will be up to the viewer. Certainly, it is an ambitious undertaking. Writer/director Jacques Audiard (in collaboration with Thomas Bidegain, Léa Mysius, and Nicolas Livecchi) has crafted a large scale, primarily Spanish language musical that also operates as a gritty crime thriller. It’s a story of identity, family, and the search for happiness. There are all these various ingredients stirred into the pot, but the overall result is strangely lacking. This is a shockingly dreary and overly melodramatic experience that only gets worse the further along it goes. Whatever themes there are to explore gets squashed under the weight of its absurdity.

There’s a strange imbalance. At certain points, Audiard’s narrative seems hopeful, optimistic, and progressive. Other times, it is a miserable examination of morally compromised characters. There is a kind of soap opera/telenovela tone running throughout, because of the numerous surprises and constantly high emotion. The fact that the entire production is hinged on the structure of a musical just makes it even more bizarre. We’re thrown into a world of corrupt lawyers, ruthless drug lords, dangerous cartels, adulterous affairs, and violent standoffs between warring gangs. And yet, every few minutes characters break out into a song and dance number, snapping their fingers and executing highly intricate dance choreography. It’s just a weird juxtaposition. 

One of the biggest issues is trying to pin down what exactly the film is trying to accomplish. The overlapping themes and genre styles creates a convoluted mess. Let’s start at the beginning. Rita (Zoe Saldana) is an attorney who has big career aspirations. She’s tired of having her hard work being taken by others without any credit. Her fortunes change when she meets Manitas Del Monte (Karla Sofía Gascón). Manitas is the head of one of the biggest cartels in Mexico and has reached out to Rita for a special project. Manitas orders Rita to search for a doctor that can successfully transition him to become a woman. The process goes according to plan. Manitas fakes his death to live as her true self: Emilia Pérez. Of course, this undertaking comes with some complications, namely the fact that Manitas/Emilia was married to a woman named Jessi (Selena Gomez) and has been raising a family. Keeping the surgery and her new life a secret from Jessi creates a house of cards for Emilia. At any point the entire ruse can come crashing down.

What I described to you is certainly a lot of story, but incredibly only makes up the first half. It does bring up some fascinating concepts. That notion of embracing one’s true identity, being able to live freely as oneself and not having to hide under a guise of shame or fear are things we can all relate to in some form. Yes, this even applies to crime lords. Part of the reason Rita agrees to work with Emilia (other than she didn’t have much of a choice) is that she can empathize with her point of view. Unfortunately, these ideas lose momentum in the second half, where Emilia and Rita must deal with the ramifications of their decisions. The narrative becomes less about identity and more as a forgettable, dramatic crime picture. The ugliness and selfishness of the characters come pouring out, to the point where no one is worth investing our interests in. They’re all painted in broad strokes, with no sense of nuance or dimension.

Audiard’s direction makes the error of incorporating a harsh, grubby visual aesthetic. The cinematography (Paul Guilhaume) features unflattering lighting where everything is tinged in yellows and lime greens. The grunginess does not lend to an appealing look – everything we see is grimy and unpleasant. Not the greatest canvas to create a musical, to say the least. During the song and dance numbers, the camera makes abrupt, herky jerky movements that coincides with the choreography. When Rita performs a solo act in a dining room filled with spectators, the sudden movements of her dancing and from the camera play as unintentionally funny. This effect is seen to a larger degree in the hospital scene where Rita learns about various gender-affirming surgeries. The number contains phrases such as, “mammoplasty, vaginoplasty, rhinoplasty, laryngoplasty…penis to vagina” as part of its actual song lyrics. Sadly, the scene has gone on to become viral online for all the wrong reasons.

The cast do what they can with characters that exist mainly on the surface. Zoe Saldana is very good as Rita, even though she gradually becomes a background performer the further things progress. Her singing and dancing are on point. Rita has the most choreography to tackle, and Saldana meets those requirements with flying colors. Selena Gomez is convincing as Jessi. In a bit of a turn (at least from what I’ve seen of her career), Gomez inhabits the character with angst, passion, and intensity. Jessi is a mother who has suffered severe trauma and heartache, and Gomez does her best to make that feel as authentic as possible on screen. Karla Sofía Gascón operates as the heart and soul of the film. She is the one that brings us in emotionally, having us see her perspective both before and after her transition. Unfortunately, the character takes a turn for the worst that I didn’t find convincing, but that doesn’t discount Gascón’s commitment to the role.

Audiard takes a big swing with Emilia Pérez. Unfortunately, the result does not match those lofty goals. I came away with little insight on any of its topics. It’s unremarkable as a musical, a genre picture, or as a depiction of the culture in which it is set. I’m not trans, so I can’t touch on how this speaks to members of that community, although I would assume there are films that do a better job than this. This production is simply an oddity, a hybrid of sharp angles and rough edges. It contains a multitude of pieces that never come together to make a coherent whole.

Emilia Pérez, Jacques Audiard, Karla Sofía Gascón, Léa Mysius, Nicolas Livecchi, Paul Guilhaume, Selena Gomez, Thomas Bidegain, Zoe Saldana