Well, never let it be said that Jacques Audiard is afraid to take risks. Emilia Pérez is a wild swing of a film, one that has earned equal parts adoration and scorn since its world premiere at Cannes. Audiard’s bold film combines elements that don’t seem like they should be anywhere near one another. The French filmmaker’s Mexican crime story also serves as an audacious musical, done mostly in Spanish with a pair of French composers. The central story involves a violent gang leader who seeks gender-affirming surgery to live the life they have always wanted to live. Audiard, who has never shied away from daring, unexpected films (Rust & Bone being a personal favorite), deserves credit for taking on this challenge, and with a trio of brave performances by Zoe Saldana, Selena Gomez, and a mesmerizing Karla Sofia Gascon, he nearly pulls off the life-changing drama that he was shooting for.
Sweeping us melodramatically through a trio of mariachi performers, Audiard’s way of cluing us into the broad musical aspects, Emilia Pérez is largely seen through the eyes of Saldana’s character, Rita Mora Castro. An unappreciated defense attorney in Mexico who is sick of helping scumbags go free, Rita longs to do something meaningful with her life. In one of the film’s best and most clarifying numbers, Rita unloads her feelings in song, aided by an energetic, whirling camera weaving between her and dozens of chorus followers.
Rita’s work is too good, though. She’s contacted/kidnapped by Mexico’s biggest cartel boss, Manitas Del Monte (Gascon), who wants to hire her for a mysterious job. While initially seen as intimidating, all tatted up and speaking in ominous tones, Manitas sings his melancholy when informing Rita of what he needs to do. The desperate longing in his voice when asking her to find a surgeon to help transition to a woman is heartbreaking, and we can’t help but recognize the anachronism of it all. Here is this tough, murderous criminal, one of the most dangerous men in a masculine society, sobbing with pain over the need to embrace the femininity he’s been hiding for so long.
This would be more than enough for just about any other movie, but it’s not even close to enough for Audiard. But the more that is packed into the plot of Emilia Pérez, the more unwieldy it becomes. And the more unwieldy it gets, the more you notice some of the language barriers in the music. This is particularly noticeable during a grating number between Rita and the surgeon who will perform the transition. Fortunately, the film rebounds elegantly when we meet Manitas’ post-surgery self, the rechristened Emilia Pérez, and she begins to gain emotional and physical acceptance of her true self. Again, this could’ve been a movie unto itself and doesn’t need more. But then we must consider the life that was left behind, as Manitas had a wife, Jessi (Gomez), and two kids, who must now be convinced of his death and taken away to Switzerland for their own safety. When we first meet Jessi she’s unhappy, longing for the carefree, romantic life she had before. Manitas’ “death” doesn’t free her from anything. He’s gone, but she is still stuck.
Emilia Pérez takes things even further by jumping ahead a few years and a clandestine reunion between Emilia and Rita. Emilia, understandably, wants her children back but that means bringing them and Jessi to Mexico, further shaking up their world. And since Emilia doesn’t want to reveal her secret, and passes herself off as Manitas’ previously unknown sister, it makes things even more complicated and hard to take seriously. If taken as a melodramatic telenovella Emilia Pérez can be forgiven because it hits the roller coaster of emotions.
The film is at its best as an openly, unapologetically trans story of acceptance, self-love, redemption, and forgiveness. It’s not just Emilia who undergoes a transformation, but hers is the greatest by far. It goes beyond just the physical, as another subplot finds her as a community leader and activist fighting for the families of missing people lost to cartel violence. While this detour goes a long way in establishing Emilia’s evolution, it’s never given the time needed to have the intended effect. It serves as more of a launching pad for the fourth woman undergoing a life-altering experience, Epifania (Adriana Paz), the abused wife of a cartel victim who Emilia forms a bond with.
It should be said that Emilia Pérez is a well-intentioned movie and a well-crafted one, and the stories of these women are endlessly compelling. My disappointment comes from unreached potential, but this could have been an even better film. All of the performances are remarkable, with each actress giving everything of themselves from a physical and emotional standpoint. For Saldana, we’ve never seen her move the way she does here, we’ve never seen her this down-to-earth and genuine, or this theatrical. She’s not a natural singer but you’d never know it by the confidence she brings. Gascon is stunning and a truly unique talent in a performance that is sure to be headed for an Oscar nomination and, I think, a likely victory. Gomez gets the short end of the stick as Jessi is a little bit under-written considering the outsized part she plays later, and especially when tensions between her and Emilia result in a surprisingly violent conflict. But that doesn’t take away from Gomez’s commitment to the character or the film. One thing that comes through is that Emilia Pérez is a labor of love for everyone and that dedication to telling such a fearless story is tough to resist.
Emilia Pérez is streaming now on Netflix.
*NOTE: This review was originally part of our Middleburg Film Festival coverage.*
