What went wrong with Emilia Pérez?

Amanda Vilanova

Just a few months ago, our news channels and social media feeds were filled with Emilia Pérez and its cast. The musical was initially showered with accolades, winning a Golden Globe for Best Picture in the Musical or Comedy category and 13 nominations for the Academy Awards, the highest number ever for a foreign film. However, after a controversy-filled award season, it was hastily sidelined. The film, written and directed by Jacques Audiard, hovers in the background of my Netflix account with a blurb that describes it as ‘operatic and genre-bending’. I decide to investigate further. Where did Emilia Pérez fail and what can it teach us about making better work?

The film’s first moments are captivating. In Mexico City, Rita, a talented but underemployed lawyer played by Zoe Saldana, is captured by gang leader Manitas, played by Karla Sofia Gascón, and forced to meet with him. Manitas hires Rita to organise their gender affirming surgery. This task will entail faking the gang leader’s death, as well as organizing their operation and personal affairs.  After a strange but compelling start to the story, the plot becomes ever more bizarre. Years later, Rita is tracked down by Manitas, now living as Emilia, who requests her exiled family to be returned to her. Rita becomes Emilia’s right-hand-woman. 

To add to the rather confusing plot, the songs often spring out of nowhere, disrupting the action. The music moves between operatic Les Miserables-like ballads and commercial Broadway-style numbers. Of the latter, the musical number in a hospital wing where staff sing ‘from penis to vagina’ is particularly strange and has garnered many a parody on TikTok. The musical’s many nominations came as a huge surprise to audiences who had mocked its scenes, commented on some of the performer’s accents, and laughed at the tunes. 

The film surprises its audience with new events rather than delving into the characters’ inner lives. The performances are adequate, but none blow you away. But a more interesting issue is what the film represents. It is a Spanish-language musical set in Mexico, with a trans woman as the protagonist, released by the commercial giant Netflix. The film is a perfect opportunity to showcase Latin American and trans talent as well as to tell their stories from a unique point of view.  This  ‘genre-bending’  piece and its commercial platform was a space to champion the underrepresented and was probably originally lauded because of this. The film’s execution, however, left much to be desired. Emilia Pérez was shot in a studio in Paris and features a mostly non-Mexican cast. The second half of the film follows Emilia founding a nonprofit dedicated to finding the bodies of cartel victims, referred to in Mexico as Los Desaparecidos (The Disappeared). Mexicans were offended by the use of this painful part of its history as a mere plot point. In reference to this, screenwriter Héctor Guillén sent a message to The Academy on X saying: ‘500 dead and France decides to do a Musical’ and calling the film a ‘racist Eurocentrist mockery.’ Other responses included trans content creator Camila Aurora making a 30-minute-long parody and releasing it on YouTube. Saldana, after accepting her Oscar, stated that Mexico was not the heart of the film, but rather that the story of struggling women was its focus. Though she is not responsible for the film’s mistakes, there is something disingenuous about grounding a piece of work in a nation’s suffering and then claiming it was only a means to an end.  

The film’s protagonist could have been groundbreaking for the trans community.  Emilia is powerful, rich and the driving force of the plot. However, many trans critics detest the film because it portrays Emilia as a liar who is confused about who they are. Emilia abandons her family and then manipulates them until they are under her control. Manita’s son, in an attempt at a touching moment by the director, sings that Emilia smells like his dead father. The smells mentioned in the song are stereotypically Mexican, like spicy food, guacamole, and mezcal. Later, Emilia sings about being ‘half him, half her’ and reverts to a masculine voice when being  aggressive. The main character is not given the depth and nuance required to respectfully portray the experience of transitioning. To top all this off, Gascón hinted on social media that people working for competing films were out to diminish her work. Then a journalist looked back at her X profile and revealed that it contained a string of antisemitic and racist comments. With the actor’s Oscar prospects crushed, she didn’t attend the ceremony. A genuine apology, like those attempted by Saldana and Audiard, could have gone a long way.

Ultimately, Emilia Pérez has been pushed aside because it is a bad film and a boring watch, but it leaves us with questions. How do we make work about places we aren’t from and about people of different cultures? How do we learn to look at our subjects with genuine curiosity rather than only taking what serves our artistic intention? It would be a shame to live in a world where we cannot create art based on lives far away from ours, but mere interest is not enough. There are ethical issues to consider, best practices, and a need to put one’s ego aside. It requires openness to change one’s vision to tell a truer and more interesting story. We have the world at our fingertips. The internet and social media have many shortcomings but a lack of connection with other lives is not one of them. It is easier than ever to cast talent from all corners of the globe and speak to experts on any subject. If your story is inspired by a group of people, there are ways to make right by them, particularly when budgets and distribution are not an issue.  

The controversy around Emilia Pérez also invites us to reflect on what we do and say online. All of us can think back on statements made in the past that wouldn’t reflect who we are at present. Often, it is how we mend and reframe regrettable things we have said and done that defines us. I wonder what filmmakers, actors, and producers will learn from Emilia Pérez? I hope the disaster and its aftermath will translate into greater efforts to portray underrepresented stories accurately rather than using it as an excuse to play it safe. 

Amanda Vilanova

Amanda Vilanova is a Puerto Rican writer, actor, and translator based in London.