Score: 2.5/5
French filmmaker Jacques Audiard delivers a unique Spanish-language crime musical that succeeds in some ways but fails at others.
Emilia Pérez tells the story of three women living in Mexico City. It first introduces Rita Mora Castro, a talented lawyer working a dead-end job for a firm more interested in accumulating money than delivering justice. In the midst of her routine-induced malaise, she is presented with a lucrative opportunity from feared cartel leader Juan “Manitas” Del Monte who wishes to undergo gender-affirming surgery to transition into a woman. Rita agrees to the offer and helps Manitas stage a fake death, beginning a new life as Emilia Pérez.
The driving force of the film is its magnetic performances from the three lead women. Zoe Saldaña has a commanding presence unlike any of her previous roles, controlling every scene and musical number she’s in with captivating expressions and physicality. Selena Gomez delivers her best in an unfortunately underwritten role as Emilia’s now ex-wife, Jessi. She brings a unique supporting performance to the film that feels unexplored in the script.
The standout performance is Karla Sofía Gascón as the titular character. She exudes passion and heart, conveying dynamic expression that adapts to whatever tone the film shifts to. Although Saldaña is in many ways the lead performer — with the story told through her perspective — Gascón is the film’s emotional centre, impacting everyone around her.
Unfortunately, Emilia Pérez’s strong ensemble cast cannot make up for the several glaring flaws that stick out in the film. For starters, to succeed as a musical your songs must be memorable. The bulk of these songs feel wonky, unimportant and stick out jarringly. “El Mal” works as the standout number, incorporating fast-paced camerawork and magnetic choreography led by Saldaña. “Las Damas que Pasan” concludes the film extravagantly and stands among the more emotionally evocative tracks.
The core flaw that inhibits Emilia Pérez’s success is its own ambition to be several things at once. It tries to simultaneously be a musical, a comedy, a melodrama, a story about being transgender, a crime thriller and a love letter to Mexico, but it only partially succeeds at delivering each of these.
Emilia’s nuanced experience as a trans woman is barely explored after her transition. The film completely shifts its attention from her interiority after she transitions to focus on another plotline that painfully strips away the film’s potential. Audiard ambitiously tries to use Emilia’s trans identity as an allegory for Mexico’s changing national identity, but his perception of Mexico is regressive and shallow. In an interview, when asked if he studied Mexico in preparation for the film, Audiard simply said, “No, I didn’t study much, I kind of already knew what I wanted to understand.”
By the third act the film has introduced far too many scattered plotlines to wrap up cohesively. It ends abruptly and anti-climatically, its narrative beaten with a hammer leaving you unsatisfied.
There’s a lot to respect about filmmakers who push boundaries to create something new. There’s nothing quite like Emilia Pérez, but that’s not necessarily a good thing. Its invigorating performances led by three women are enough to tune in, but the lulls in the story, convoluted tone and chaotic narrative lead the film to fizzle out, the sparks of potential fading fast.