Emilia Pérez – Film Review

Jacques Audiard‘s Emilia Pérez is a daring and distinct blend of musical, crime, and comedy, delving into themes of identity, redemption, and societal transformation within a vibrant musical framework. The film, based on Audiard’s opera libretto, which itself draws loosely from Boris Razon’s novel “Écoute,” showcases a fearless attempt to navigate the life-altering journey of a feared Mexican cartel leader, Juan “Manitas” Del Monte, who transforms into Emilia Pérez. Played by Karla Sofía Gascón, Emilia’s transformation is portrayed not just physically but through an emotional and philosophical reinvention, marking this as a story about seeking authenticity in a world built on façades. The result, however, is a film that swings between deeply moving and disjointedly chaotic, ultimately presenting a mix of hits and misses that leaves it uneven.

Audiard places Emilia Pérez in the realm of high-concept filmmaking, with the core plot tracing a cartel leader’s quest to shed their violent past and assume a new life in line with their true identity. The narrative gives space for intriguing moments of self-examination, especially in the scenes where Emilia (formerly Manitas) confronts her family and reflects on her past. Zoe Saldaña as Rita Mora Castro, a pragmatic lawyer pulled into Emilia’s orbit, complements this storyline by offering a grounded counterpoint to Emilia’s dramatic metamorphosis. Rita’s moral dilemmas, her professional ambition, and her own undercurrents of disillusionment provide an interesting subplot that runs parallel to Emilia’s journey.

Yet, while Emilia Pérez bravely tackles transgender identity within the crime genre, the film occasionally falls short of conveying depth in its examination of Emilia’s internal struggles. The narrative, aiming to weave themes of personal liberation with an underlying message of atonement, loses coherence amid the exaggerated, at times kitschy, musical elements that feel more like decoration than meaningful storytelling. The emotional weight of Emilia’s experiences is sometimes diluted by the sudden shifts in tone—from introspective to comedic to operatic.

One of the film’s more polarizing aspects is its musical structure, shaped by original songs from Camille and an evocative score by Clément Ducol. The music veers between catchy and hauntingly melancholic, working best when underscoring Emilia’s moments of reflection. However, the songs sometimes lack integration within the narrative, feeling more like standalone performances than organic extensions of the story. This is especially evident in elaborate numbers like “El alegato” and “Mis siete hermanos y yo,” which, though memorable, occasionally detract from the film’s pacing.

Paul Guilhaume’s choreography brings a welcome layer of artistry, injecting moments of expressive movement that accentuate the film’s operatic themes. The choreography is most effective in “El encuentro,” where Emilia’s internal struggle and aspiration for freedom are powerfully conveyed through dance. Yet, some of the dance sequences can feel overly stylized, pulling viewers out of the story rather than immersing them in it. This, coupled with the already sporadic tone shifts, makes the film’s musical and choreographic choices a mixed bag—creative but inconsistent in their impact.

The cast delivers committed performances, with Karla Sofía Gascón standing out in the role of Emilia Pérez. Gascón brings an authenticity and a quiet power to the character’s journey of self-discovery, portraying Emilia’s vulnerability and resolve with nuance. Zoe Saldaña, as Rita, adds depth to the film, grounding it with her portrayal of a lawyer caught between her principles and personal ambitions. Saldaña’s chemistry with Gascón injects some much-needed realism into the otherwise larger-than-life narrative, particularly in scenes where the two characters confront the moral and emotional implications of their decisions.

Selena Gomez, in the role of Jessi Del Monte, also makes a memorable appearance. Her character’s initially superficial nature becomes more layered as Jessi’s life unravels, with Gomez managing to evoke both pity and frustration in her portrayal. Supporting cast members like Adriana Paz and Mark Ivanir contribute with solid performances, though they are often underutilized, given the film’s sprawling plot.

Sadly, the film sometimes veers into excess, with certain sequences feeling unnecessarily grandiose and dragging down the pacing. The balance between lavish visuals and tight narrative focus isn’t always maintained, leaving some scenes to feel like filler rather than essential components of the story.

Emilia Pérez is undoubtedly an ambitious film, attempting to tackle complex issues of gender identity, redemption, and family through a musical lens. Audiard’s creative vision shines in moments, especially through Gascón’s compelling performance and the film’s striking visual presentation. However, the film’s narrative structure lacks cohesion, with tonal shifts that disrupt rather than enhance the storytelling. The music and choreography, while artistically intriguing, can feel out of place and distract from the emotional depth of Emilia’s transformation and the impact of her past.

Emilia Pérez is a film brimming with style and creativity but one that ultimately stumbles over its own ambition, leaving audiences with a memorable but uneven cinematic experience.