Since its release beyond the echo chamber of the typically unhip festival crowd, Emilia Pérez has faced a tidal wave of ridicule. Those in the trans community, one of the film’s hefty social topics, have taken a particular disliking. I won’t pretend to be an expert on such sexual or spiritual experiences, as my expertise on the subject remains limited to my critical obsession with the Wachowski canon. But still, it never stopped me from knowing this movie stinks.
Emilia Pérez is a drama/musical/crime/comedy, a genre hodgepodge that never quite does any of 'em well. It sees Rita (Zoe Saldaña) a criminal defense lawyer burdened by her firm’s immoral cases and Mexico’s cultural corruption (we know this because she tells us directly), and her complex relationship with Emilia (Karla Sofía Gascón), a cartel kingpin who desires nothing more than faking her death, leaving her family, and getting a sex change operation.
Acknowledging the God-awful musical numbers seems like a fitting starting point, but frankly, I don’t care enough—and neither does director Jacques Audiard. Entire stretches of thirty to forty minutes pass without music, only for a song to jarringly ambush the audience like getting shanked in state prison. Lin Manuel Miranda is only more horrid.
And to be honest, any synonym for "horrid" or "ugly" feels fitting when describing every aspect of the film. Yet, oddly enough, "downright terrible" didn't often come to mind—aside from maybe the music.
Co-star Karla Sofía Gascón, in the role of Emilia Pérez, is perhaps the film’s sole redeeming element. Warmly lovable—except when you’re reminded of the sins she spends much of the film atoning—her outrageous character feels very welcomed.
Where she becomes troubled lies in Audiard's alienation from the material. Believe it or not, the privileged cis son of a revered French director, doesn’t know a whole lot about transgenderism or Mexico’s moral crises. There’s a level of empathy with Emilia that can never be penetrated as long as Audiard can’t treat his trans character beyond an object of curiosity to dramatize. He’s like a small child who can’t help but stare at the handicapped man on the other side of the grocery store.
When Emilia first reveals the effects of her hormone therapy to Rita, it's treated with disgust. You can read it on Zaldana’s face and the scene’s vile lighting.
He doesn’t do a great job with the cis women either. Zaldana flatlines so hard that you forget she’s supposed to be the lead. And then there’s Selene Gomez. Playing Emilia’s crime lord wifey, she’s portrayed how half the internet believes Martin Scorecece treats his on-screen women. “My pussy still hurts when I think of you”, she tells her secret lover over the phone. Good grief.
The best compliment I can bestow is that I was never bored. And perhaps I was just in awe of the entire thing, but most films can’t even accomplish that much. Though I don’t expect a second viewing to hold up any better.
Just as I Saw the TV Glow propelled trans-cinema years beyond, Emilia Pérez is here to dropkick it back a couple of decades. At least, a la The Substance, the moments seemingly engineered to be solely clipped and circulate around Twitter, will generate some cultural relevance. Just God, please, don’t let this win an Oscar.
Grade: D+