I only know so much about filmmaker Jacques Audiard, but I have enjoyed many of his films, including A Prophet, Rust and Bone, and The Sisters Brothers. The news that he had developed a musical crime comedy that plays like an opera caught my attention. Emilia Pérez is a lot of things, including audacious, wild, and unexpected in its execution. Is the Jury Prize winner from the Cannes Film Festival also bound to be divisive? Naturally, as it’s a film full of eccentricity and its own take on delivering an unapologetic trans story. Given the songs, the tone of the film, and more, this is the sort of thing that wants an audience to trust its ambitions and go along with the entertainment it is trying to provide. I very much had a good time here, as I felt caught in the sights of how Audiard had aimed to tell his story.
Zoe Saldaña stars as Rita Mora Castro, a lawyer living an unrewarding life in Mexico. After winning a notable case, however, Rita receives a call from the infamous cartel boss Manitas (Karla Sofía Gascón), who wants to retire from his business and disappear. To do this, Manitas wants Rita to help him realize his dream of becoming a woman. This also means relocating his wife, Jessi (Selena Gomez), and their children for safety. While the plan is a success, it also means leaving Jessi to believe her husband to be dead. However, the lives of these three individuals converge sometime later, with Manitas now living as Emilia Pérez, presenting new challenges.
See Also: ‘The Outrun’ Review: Saoirse Ronan is Raw and Riveting
Given the nature of a story like this, let alone the fact that it’s based on Audiard’s own opera libretto (adapted from Boris Razon’s novel Écoute), one could assume a lot of tragedy is built into this story. Whether or not that is the right thing to have in mind, I was taken by how much fun this movie is. A lot of that comes from Audiard’s presentation of the material. Featuring performers who are a mix of professional singers and those who just act, how musical numbers emerge can be jarring based on the lyrics and rhyming schemes, yet the camerawork is so active.
At a time when tracking choreography is somehow not always clear in full-on musical features, here’s a movie with plenty of fun being open to offbeat choices to convey the emotions of scenes accompanying the dancing. Whether it’s the spins around characters, the fast zooms in place, or steady shots relying on the lighting to add a different sort of dynamic flow to the proceedings, there’s so much to take in on just a visual level before even considering the music in question.
With the songs acting as both vocalized exposition and expressions of desire, Emilia Pérez is happy to embrace its wild premise with a degree of sincerity that makes the more dramatic numbers land with the right sort of impact, others serve as fun spaces between scenes, with at least one that makes the audience well aware the film is in on its own ridiculousness (“La Vaginoplastia”). With these original songs by Camille and a score by Clément Ducol, it’s not just the originality I admired but the fact that I was motivated to keep this music in mind well after seeing the film.
As for the performers having to embrace Audiard’s intentions and put forth their renditions of these musical numbers, I was happy to see so much strong work here. The female ensemble notably shared a Best Actress award from the Cannes Film Festival, and it’s a nice way of recognizing how vital each player is to what’s taking place here. All of that said, Saldaña is terrific here. As a true showcase for her abilities as an actor, dancer, and singer, there’s so much to appreciate about a film really allowing her to shine. Various excursions into sci-fi worlds by James Cameron have certainly allowed her to explore her physicality on screen. Still, the contemporary setting featured in this film means less is in the way to mask what we see from this performance, which is excellent.
I wasn’t familiar with Gascón before this film, but her role requires a lot of heavy lifting to pull off this transformative life and make the inner turmoil come through. Of course, that speaks to the family that she had to give up and not the new life she created to better serve herself as she is, which makes Gomez effective here as well. Having to be none the wiser to who Emilia Pérez really is but play into a sense of familiarity means doing a lot of different kinds of juggling, which adds the right kinds of complexity to this mixture of themes.
Looking deeper into what Emilia Pérez has to say about the trans experience can only take me so far based on a lack of relatability, but to see a film not only revel in the normalcy of this idea as a storyline (despite the deception at play for other reasons) but propel these characters forward as a way of what amounts to a crime story that operates with both humor and drama makes the whole project feel like Audiard’s way of once again serving as a filmmaker happy to challenge what’s expected in ways he sees fit. Could this film be ruled offensive in some circles? Absolutely, and there are certainly avenues to argue as to why. I, however, felt engrossed by what was on display and certainly didn’t feel like there was an intention that would speak harmfully to a cause.
Whatever the case, Emilia Pérez is too vibrant and different for me to have dismissed, even if I wasn’t taken by what it was attempting. But as it stands, I was quite a fan of how this film attacked its story with a glee that made me lean forward. With a sense of fun backed by powerful performances, the movie found ways to sit in its own circle, delivering an experience not shared by any other film this year. That it doesn’t attempt to hide how wild a ride it is only adds to my appreciation for Emilia Pérez.
Emilia Pérez is now playing in select theaters and will be available to stream on Netflix on November 13, 2024.
